Today, Gabe and I had the opportunity to go to his kindergarten open house and meet his teacher. While she was describing the curriculum and class units for the year she mentioned, that in the spring, the class would be "hatching baby chicks." Gabe (who had wondered off to the other side of the room) perked up and returned to me with a look of up most confusion.
He, quite confusedly (is that a word?) said, "Mom, how are we going to hatch baby chick?"
"I don't know Gabe. I guess you will have to wait and see in the spring."
Gabe, after a minute of contemplation, "Am I going to have to sit on them?"
I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing right there in the class room (I know.....Melanie laughing?.....impossible!)
I am thankful to the Lord for offering me times like these to remind me of what adorable kids I have. Otherwise I think I would forget, what with all the seriousness life seems to have trust upon me lately.
Oh......check out my newly started "other" blog
www.melanielovesdinner.blogspot.com
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Kids say the darn-dest things
Kids sure say the darn-dest things don't they?
Gabe and I had quite the interesting conversation yesterday. I had gone downstairs to read him a book before quiet time and as I snuggled up on the bed next to him he says,
"Mom....we have four boys in our family don't we."
"Yep," I said, and testing to see whether or not he considered me a girl, "and how many girls do we have?"
"One...........but we will be having another one soon."
Me.....feeling a little uncomfortable at this point, "Oh yeah, how do you figure?"
"Well, you are going to grow her and then you will go to the hopsipal (yes....it is a typo but this is how he said it).
I don't know Who has been talking to my kids but they sure have been interested in having a baby sister. Do they not understand that we just had a baby. Do they not get it? Huh? Huh?
On a similar note, a friend of mine told me this story today. But first a little background on her. She is the mother of 5 year old twins, has a baby who has JUST turned one and is 19 weeks pregnant.
Yesterday she was driving in the car with her kids, had turned off the radio for some R and R, and found herself praying about her worries and fears (having little money, so many kids, etc) and was just finished telling the Lord that she thought they might be done after #4 was born and then.......one of her 5 year olds piped up with this:
"Mommy, the Holy Ghost just whispered to me and told me that there is another baby in heaven waiting and we are suppose to have five kids in our family."
Wow.....isn't that crazy. At least I don't have that kind of pressure.
Who am I kidding? I, at LEAST, have two more to go. If that's not pressure I don't know what is.
Gabe and I had quite the interesting conversation yesterday. I had gone downstairs to read him a book before quiet time and as I snuggled up on the bed next to him he says,
"Mom....we have four boys in our family don't we."
"Yep," I said, and testing to see whether or not he considered me a girl, "and how many girls do we have?"
"One...........but we will be having another one soon."
Me.....feeling a little uncomfortable at this point, "Oh yeah, how do you figure?"
"Well, you are going to grow her and then you will go to the hopsipal (yes....it is a typo but this is how he said it).
I don't know Who has been talking to my kids but they sure have been interested in having a baby sister. Do they not understand that we just had a baby. Do they not get it? Huh? Huh?
On a similar note, a friend of mine told me this story today. But first a little background on her. She is the mother of 5 year old twins, has a baby who has JUST turned one and is 19 weeks pregnant.
Yesterday she was driving in the car with her kids, had turned off the radio for some R and R, and found herself praying about her worries and fears (having little money, so many kids, etc) and was just finished telling the Lord that she thought they might be done after #4 was born and then.......one of her 5 year olds piped up with this:
"Mommy, the Holy Ghost just whispered to me and told me that there is another baby in heaven waiting and we are suppose to have five kids in our family."
Wow.....isn't that crazy. At least I don't have that kind of pressure.
Who am I kidding? I, at LEAST, have two more to go. If that's not pressure I don't know what is.
Testosterone Overload.....I thought I knew the meaning!
Gillespie Household Testosterone Count: 4 (ages 30, 5, 2 1/2, and 1). Gillespie Household Estrogen Count: 1 (age 27). I am used to being outnumbered and I am cool with it. Like it says in my header "It's okay, I have enough estrogen to balance it out." Besides, the nice thing about male hormones is that they are pretty steady and consistent. I can't imagine what our house would be like if the numbers were flip-flopped. Having said that.....I can now say that if I EVER thought I knew what true Testosterone Overload was....I was wrong. Oh, so very wrong.
Last weekend, things got a little interesting as we more than doubled the amount of Testosterone in our home. Weekend Testosterone Count: 9 (ages 33, 30, 8, 7, 5, 4, 2 1/2, 2 1/2, and 1). Weekend Estrogen Count: 2 (27 and 27).
We had some friends stay with us for a few days. They not only have three active boys of their own but they brought along their 8 year old brother/brother-in-law as well.
Crazy.....crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy. I literally thought the house would come tumbling down a few times. There was lots of wrestling, lots of yelling, lots of things being broken, and LOTS and LOTS of time enjoying the outdoors. HOORAY for good weather. What would we have done without you?
Be as it may, I did learn a few valuable things.
#1 Stop having children NOW. We can't afford to risk the possibility of ANY more boys.
#2 A room with padded walls is a NECESSITY. It must consist of four walls covered in high impact foam, straight jackets, and a pad lock on the outside. (I know what you are thinking.....but no,.....the room is not for me. It would be for the boys...although I may have to borrow it at times when Rob is traveling with work and, in order to do that,.....Rob would have to find a job. So as you can see...the room would solely be for the use of the children. At least for a while. Anyhow......). The rules would be that no one is allowed out unless they were bleeding, on the verge of dying, or already dead (in which case they would not be coming out on their own, but on a stretcher headed for the morgue).
#3 Boys are Boys are Boys. Here I thought my boys were the only one who were loud, obnoxious, mean, hyperactive, and a number of other things but....it turns out most of them are like that. Wow. I guess I won't have to send mine away to boot camp for babies after all.
EARLY Sunday morning (about 6:15AM) we found Gabe and Cael standing next to Nate and Nicole's air mattress talking their ears off (I have no idea where they get that). Nate and Nicole later told us that they would be bailing out on us a night early and going to their hotel instead. Something about "needing to catch up on sleep." I must say, I have never been more grateful for early-rising children. (that's a joke....just a joke).
All kidding aside, we did enjoy having the Carroll's with us. It has been a really long time since we have had the opportunity to enjoy their company and....enjoy it we did.
Thanks guys for giving us a glimpse into the future. I must say, I have NEVER been more frightened of what is to come.
Last weekend, things got a little interesting as we more than doubled the amount of Testosterone in our home. Weekend Testosterone Count: 9 (ages 33, 30, 8, 7, 5, 4, 2 1/2, 2 1/2, and 1). Weekend Estrogen Count: 2 (27 and 27).
We had some friends stay with us for a few days. They not only have three active boys of their own but they brought along their 8 year old brother/brother-in-law as well.
Crazy.....crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy. I literally thought the house would come tumbling down a few times. There was lots of wrestling, lots of yelling, lots of things being broken, and LOTS and LOTS of time enjoying the outdoors. HOORAY for good weather. What would we have done without you?
Be as it may, I did learn a few valuable things.
#1 Stop having children NOW. We can't afford to risk the possibility of ANY more boys.
#2 A room with padded walls is a NECESSITY. It must consist of four walls covered in high impact foam, straight jackets, and a pad lock on the outside. (I know what you are thinking.....but no,.....the room is not for me. It would be for the boys...although I may have to borrow it at times when Rob is traveling with work and, in order to do that,.....Rob would have to find a job. So as you can see...the room would solely be for the use of the children. At least for a while. Anyhow......). The rules would be that no one is allowed out unless they were bleeding, on the verge of dying, or already dead (in which case they would not be coming out on their own, but on a stretcher headed for the morgue).
#3 Boys are Boys are Boys. Here I thought my boys were the only one who were loud, obnoxious, mean, hyperactive, and a number of other things but....it turns out most of them are like that. Wow. I guess I won't have to send mine away to boot camp for babies after all.
EARLY Sunday morning (about 6:15AM) we found Gabe and Cael standing next to Nate and Nicole's air mattress talking their ears off (I have no idea where they get that). Nate and Nicole later told us that they would be bailing out on us a night early and going to their hotel instead. Something about "needing to catch up on sleep." I must say, I have never been more grateful for early-rising children. (that's a joke....just a joke).
All kidding aside, we did enjoy having the Carroll's with us. It has been a really long time since we have had the opportunity to enjoy their company and....enjoy it we did.
Thanks guys for giving us a glimpse into the future. I must say, I have NEVER been more frightened of what is to come.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
The Pedestal Plunge.......I have fallen and never want to return
So....I have this new obsessive compulsive behavior....it's called blogging. For some reason my mind in constantly thinking about what I might write about and......here I am again, writing about some insanely nonsensical things that really has no bearing on my life or the life of my readers.......or does it?
I was marveling today at how much I am enjoying my new mad house running skills (thank you Napoleon Dynamite). I have spent far too much time, in the last few years, berating myself for not being able to keeping house like I used to. What a joke, right? Was that not a completely different life time?
"The Time of Too Much Time"
Melanie: stay at home mother of one (Does that not say enough right there?). My house was deep cleaned once a week and spotlessly maintained throughout. The laundry was ALWAYS folded, Gabe was bathed ever other day, without fail. Dishes were done after EVERY meal and the kitchen was wiped down accordingly. Toys, books, and anything else touched by ANYONE were put properly back in their place the minute they left the hands of the user (no wonder Gabe never really learned to PLAY). I was known, amongst my friends and neighbors as "The Clean One" (or "One of the clean ones." Nicole was there too). What a pedestal to be put on. I don't know about you but I HATE being put on a pedestal. Inevitably you fall off..... and fallen, I have.
Now I have three children and a husband that is home full-time. The house is deep cleaned on a as-needed basis (or should I say, was-needed-a-week-ago-and-is-now-beyond-DISGUSTING- basis), I still TRY to keep the house tidy and not too unsanitary. The laundry is ONLY folded after two or more consecutive days of Gabe saying, "Mom, there is no underwear in my drawer,"or "Mom, I don't have any clothes to wear"...then I fold what is left of it (because inevitably, at that point, the clean baskets are starting to empty out and the dirty ones are filling up again), toys are always scattered around the house (we do try to pick them up at night but sometimes getting the kids out of our hair is more important than having them pick up their toys) and the status of the kitchen only enters my mind once a day.
The shining beacon in this life of anti-perfection is that I am coming to terms with it. Life is what it is and there is just no more time left in the day to get my "chores" done like I used to (unless I were to forgo all family (and blog) time). The important things are taken care of. My husband and children are fed and loved and are not forced to live in conditions that would attract the attention of social services. The rest just takes a back burner.
Rob.....my ever SO helpful husband and I, have come up with a nightly routine that is SO GREAT. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful husband. Every night after dinner he takes charge of the kids. He bathes them, dresses them, medicates them, and brushes their teeth. He even helps them pick up all their toys. Meanwhile, I am left alone in the kitchen to conquer the mess. And every night, I shut the light off and turn my back to a clean kitchen. I LOVE IT and I love him for allowing me the time to do it. I don't have to think about dishes all day, which includes not mentally scolding myself for not doing them after every meal, and in the end they get done and I don't even resent having to do them. It's WONDERFUL.
For those of you who knew me when I lived at Wrigley Apt, you would die if you saw my house now. Nicole (my former pedestal mate) and her family are staying with us this weekend. I think she will probably have a heart attack (or course the house will be clean when she gets here but after a few days I think my secret will be out). These changes in me are actually quite positive, I think, and hopefully she will see that too. Maybe I can talk her into taking the plunge with me.
Sunday's Spokesman Review Classifieds:
One "CLEANEST HOUSE IN THE UNIVERSE" Pedestal is now vacant and ready for the taking. Cost: Your ever living soul. If you are interested, please contact the Devil @666-6666.
Other pedestals that may be available soon, courtesy of Melanie G:
"THE MOST CONSISTENT MOM (Even If It Means Following Through With Something That Makes Her Mother Cringe)" Pedestal and "THE SKINNY ONE" Pedestal. Inquire Above.
I was marveling today at how much I am enjoying my new mad house running skills (thank you Napoleon Dynamite). I have spent far too much time, in the last few years, berating myself for not being able to keeping house like I used to. What a joke, right? Was that not a completely different life time?
"The Time of Too Much Time"
Melanie: stay at home mother of one (Does that not say enough right there?). My house was deep cleaned once a week and spotlessly maintained throughout. The laundry was ALWAYS folded, Gabe was bathed ever other day, without fail. Dishes were done after EVERY meal and the kitchen was wiped down accordingly. Toys, books, and anything else touched by ANYONE were put properly back in their place the minute they left the hands of the user (no wonder Gabe never really learned to PLAY). I was known, amongst my friends and neighbors as "The Clean One" (or "One of the clean ones." Nicole was there too). What a pedestal to be put on. I don't know about you but I HATE being put on a pedestal. Inevitably you fall off..... and fallen, I have.
Now I have three children and a husband that is home full-time. The house is deep cleaned on a as-needed basis (or should I say, was-needed-a-week-ago-and-is-now-beyond-DISGUSTING- basis), I still TRY to keep the house tidy and not too unsanitary. The laundry is ONLY folded after two or more consecutive days of Gabe saying, "Mom, there is no underwear in my drawer,"or "Mom, I don't have any clothes to wear"...then I fold what is left of it (because inevitably, at that point, the clean baskets are starting to empty out and the dirty ones are filling up again), toys are always scattered around the house (we do try to pick them up at night but sometimes getting the kids out of our hair is more important than having them pick up their toys) and the status of the kitchen only enters my mind once a day.
The shining beacon in this life of anti-perfection is that I am coming to terms with it. Life is what it is and there is just no more time left in the day to get my "chores" done like I used to (unless I were to forgo all family (and blog) time). The important things are taken care of. My husband and children are fed and loved and are not forced to live in conditions that would attract the attention of social services. The rest just takes a back burner.
Rob.....my ever SO helpful husband and I, have come up with a nightly routine that is SO GREAT. I am truly blessed to have such a wonderful husband. Every night after dinner he takes charge of the kids. He bathes them, dresses them, medicates them, and brushes their teeth. He even helps them pick up all their toys. Meanwhile, I am left alone in the kitchen to conquer the mess. And every night, I shut the light off and turn my back to a clean kitchen. I LOVE IT and I love him for allowing me the time to do it. I don't have to think about dishes all day, which includes not mentally scolding myself for not doing them after every meal, and in the end they get done and I don't even resent having to do them. It's WONDERFUL.
For those of you who knew me when I lived at Wrigley Apt, you would die if you saw my house now. Nicole (my former pedestal mate) and her family are staying with us this weekend. I think she will probably have a heart attack (or course the house will be clean when she gets here but after a few days I think my secret will be out). These changes in me are actually quite positive, I think, and hopefully she will see that too. Maybe I can talk her into taking the plunge with me.
Sunday's Spokesman Review Classifieds:
One "CLEANEST HOUSE IN THE UNIVERSE" Pedestal is now vacant and ready for the taking. Cost: Your ever living soul. If you are interested, please contact the Devil @666-6666.
Other pedestals that may be available soon, courtesy of Melanie G:
"THE MOST CONSISTENT MOM (Even If It Means Following Through With Something That Makes Her Mother Cringe)" Pedestal and "THE SKINNY ONE" Pedestal. Inquire Above.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Good Times on the Oregon Coast.
We just spent the last few days on the Oregon Coast and had a really good time (besides the fact that I got sick and spent most of the last two days on the couch with a fever...oh well). No....we normally do not go on vacation, especially when we don't have a job but....we had already payed for it and we could NOT pass up the opportunity to see all the Thiessen's. It had been far too long (6 years) and most of them had not met the boys. Besides, they are too much fun. So....we went and what a fun time it was.
By the way, for anyone who suffers from chronic car sickness (which I do) I have a solution. A good one too. These....
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....are called "sea bands" and fight against motion sickness. I was soooo nauseous the last few days we were there (something to do with this bug and the twisty roads) that i wanted to hurl every time we were in the car. So, on the ride home I put them on and I felt awesome the whole time. I could even read. It was great. Rob thinks it is all in my head but to this I say......WHO CARES. He is constantly teasing me about them and thinks that if I put them in the trunk and tell myself that they will still help, then they will. Real funny, huh? Anyway, supposedly they can help with morning sickness too. I have had them for YEARS and have never tried them with pregnancy. I will have to try them next time. I'll let y'all know.
Goodbye days of summer bliss.....hello reality.
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| Make a Smilebox scrapbook |
By the way, for anyone who suffers from chronic car sickness (which I do) I have a solution. A good one too. These....
.JPG)
....are called "sea bands" and fight against motion sickness. I was soooo nauseous the last few days we were there (something to do with this bug and the twisty roads) that i wanted to hurl every time we were in the car. So, on the ride home I put them on and I felt awesome the whole time. I could even read. It was great. Rob thinks it is all in my head but to this I say......WHO CARES. He is constantly teasing me about them and thinks that if I put them in the trunk and tell myself that they will still help, then they will. Real funny, huh? Anyway, supposedly they can help with morning sickness too. I have had them for YEARS and have never tried them with pregnancy. I will have to try them next time. I'll let y'all know.
Goodbye days of summer bliss.....hello reality.
Our numero 3 has turned uno!
I can't believe that my baby is one (and I'm not pregnant. I didn't have that luxury last time.......that's right. I HAVE MY BODY BACK. IT'S MINE.....ALL MINE and I will do with it what I want and ONLY have to answer to MEEEEEE! Crappy food. Here I come. Yeah right, like that stopped me before....) anyway, back to Isaac.....
So like I said before, Isaac has turned ONE. What a sweet baby he is. He is so mild tempered (although he is beginning to voice his opinion) and he makes us laugh constantly. Could there ever be a more handsome kid, either? We think there may not be. He is pretty dang cute. He has such a sense of humor. We named him wisely (Isaac means "he who laughs"). Come with us while we enjoy a recap of his life.
Okay, so after I put this slide show together I watched it (of course) and CRIED! That's right, Melanie does have feelings. I CRIED. Wow......our family has been through a LOT this year and poor Isaac was born right in the midst of it. He has dealt with a lot of stress and worry (because of his mother) in his short little life and done it with a smile. I remember one particular day, back when Isaac was just a few weeks old, that I had lost it. I had just screamed at the older boys and was feeling pretty lousy about it (especially because Isaac didn't even flinch at the volume of my voice....he must have been too used to it). I looked at him (while feeding) and said, "Don't worry. I will yell at you too some day." I always keep my promises. Sure enough, although he does not yet receive the full brunt of my mean mommyness, he does get scolded from time to time but it is really hard to stay mad for long. He either laughs at me or pulls the "sad bottom lip" routine and starts wailing. Tooooo cute. But always, in the end, he is smiling.
Here is a short video of him in all the glory of his quirkiness. He really is quite quirky (I wonder where he gets that from?)
*(Sorry about the resolution. If we make the picture any better the sound goes all crazy and makes the picture skip. We just can win but you get the idea of his personality anyway.)
So.....I realized that I didn't add any photos of his b-day on the slide show. Hello, McFly! So, instead, I got to have more fun making another slide show. Enjoy!
Did you notice a common theme in the pictures. The puppy. Isaac actually picked it out in the store and hadn't seen it for a few days. Once he unwrapped in, though, he would not let us take it from him for anything (but cake and ice cream. The boy likes his food.) He is seriously attached.
Oh Isaac. We love you and are so glad to have you with us.
So like I said before, Isaac has turned ONE. What a sweet baby he is. He is so mild tempered (although he is beginning to voice his opinion) and he makes us laugh constantly. Could there ever be a more handsome kid, either? We think there may not be. He is pretty dang cute. He has such a sense of humor. We named him wisely (Isaac means "he who laughs"). Come with us while we enjoy a recap of his life.
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| Make a Smilebox slideshow |
Okay, so after I put this slide show together I watched it (of course) and CRIED! That's right, Melanie does have feelings. I CRIED. Wow......our family has been through a LOT this year and poor Isaac was born right in the midst of it. He has dealt with a lot of stress and worry (because of his mother) in his short little life and done it with a smile. I remember one particular day, back when Isaac was just a few weeks old, that I had lost it. I had just screamed at the older boys and was feeling pretty lousy about it (especially because Isaac didn't even flinch at the volume of my voice....he must have been too used to it). I looked at him (while feeding) and said, "Don't worry. I will yell at you too some day." I always keep my promises. Sure enough, although he does not yet receive the full brunt of my mean mommyness, he does get scolded from time to time but it is really hard to stay mad for long. He either laughs at me or pulls the "sad bottom lip" routine and starts wailing. Tooooo cute. But always, in the end, he is smiling.
Here is a short video of him in all the glory of his quirkiness. He really is quite quirky (I wonder where he gets that from?)
*(Sorry about the resolution. If we make the picture any better the sound goes all crazy and makes the picture skip. We just can win but you get the idea of his personality anyway.)
So.....I realized that I didn't add any photos of his b-day on the slide show. Hello, McFly! So, instead, I got to have more fun making another slide show. Enjoy!
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| Make a Smilebox slideshow |
Did you notice a common theme in the pictures. The puppy. Isaac actually picked it out in the store and hadn't seen it for a few days. Once he unwrapped in, though, he would not let us take it from him for anything (but cake and ice cream. The boy likes his food.) He is seriously attached.
Oh Isaac. We love you and are so glad to have you with us.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Back to the blogging world
All y'all I am back to the blogging world. I have just spent the last four days on the Oregon Coast while enjoying the company of Rob's maternal connections (in other words: the Thiessen family reunion). All in all....very enjoyable. We love the Thiessen's. There is never a place that one can feel so free to be loud, really loud, and be in good company. We are so glad we got to be there.
I just wanted to thank everyone for your love and support as of late. I have posted some pretty "deep" stuff lately and have felt nothing but love seeping in. Wow. I count myself lucky to have family and friends like you. Thanks again.
Soon to come......."Tales of the Oregon Coast" and "Isaac's first birthday........not quite the disaster I pictured it to be but a glowing success"
I just wanted to thank everyone for your love and support as of late. I have posted some pretty "deep" stuff lately and have felt nothing but love seeping in. Wow. I count myself lucky to have family and friends like you. Thanks again.
Soon to come......."Tales of the Oregon Coast" and "Isaac's first birthday........not quite the disaster I pictured it to be but a glowing success"
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
The story of a "crazy"....not so much a story as a novel........enjoy (if you like novels that is)
Disclaimer (I seem to be making a lot of these lately): The story that follows is again, personal, and not intended to make light the seriousness of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, or anyone who suffers from it. Having suffered from it myself I can assure you that it is a very REAL disorder that takes over the mind and is very difficult to overcome. These things, these fears, for me were VERY real and in essence, RULED my EVERY ACTION and took all of the will power I possessed (and an older sister who was ordered to keep a very close eye on me) to overcome it.
Now.....having said that I can now say that I quite enjoy these memories and get a good laugh from them.... so will you (I hope).
It has taken many years of self-evaluation and analyzation and sorting through memory after memory to try to determine how each piece of the "crazy" puzzle fit together. I'm sure at one point I was a normal, healthy child and then one day I became "Super Crazy Melanie, only, not-so-crazy-outside-of-my-home (which is unusual for people with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. They usually do fine inside their homes....have you ever seen "As Good As It Gets? Anyhow........).
Now like I said before, my disorder, focussed mainly around anxiety which is what?.....Fear. So, essentially, anything I was afraid of I had to take "control" of and in the process of trying to "control" it, I lost control. Here's my story.
I think it must have all started in the fifth grade. Something about fifth grade rings a bell but I have no specific memories. My "oh so scary crazy side" must have just been laying dormant waiting for the right time to emerge.
Cause #1
I was afraid of throwing up. I mean, no one likes to throw up, but I was actually afraid of it. I had not thrown up since I was quite young and I had forgotten what it was like. Nothing is more fearful than the unknown, right, so........hence my fear of vomit, it is what started the whole blasted mess.
One day in sixth grade a boy in my class, named Armondo, threw up on the stairs to our class trailer. Everyone saw it and had to step over it to get back to class and I had to sit next to him. I must have been really embarrassed for him because I went home and told my mom how bad I felt for him because of it (I don't remember telling my mom, but she does). Lucky for me....Armondo sat next to me in class and always chewed Fruit Stripe Gum...so....to me, Fruit Stripe Gum = throw up, and I never chewed it again.
A little first grader, while we were practicing Spanish Christmas carols (I was in Spanish immersion and every year we sang Christmas carols at the mall) threw up in the front row (I was in the back). The teachers had to take him out, while he was still barfing in a garbage can, and he had to walk in front of all of us to get out. Hence, rule #1 and #2 were born.
Rule #1 NEVER throw up in public. This means.....avoid all confined spaces, you will never get out in time.....just in case, right?
Rule #2 When in public, always keep track of the nearest garbage can. That way, you can barf in there. There is already a liner, and some of them are portable. You can take them with you while you run our of the room (just like the little boy).
Our classroom, at school, was really small. I started suffering from anxiety attacks. I would get all this, who knows what, pent up inside and it would cause my stomach to do flips which would make me think I had to throw up (remember, I couldn't remember what it ACTUALLY felt like to be nauseated so I had no idea that I wasn't actually sick). It didn't take me too long to realize that if I could just walk around a bit and breath I could calm myself down so.....at a very young age (which, the counselor I went to see a few years ago was amazed with) I learned that when this happened I just needed to buy some time to relax so I would keep an extra pencil on my desk so I could get up, during class discussions, and pretend to sharpen my pencil. It worked most of the time. I only remember twice actually running out of the classroom after the whole pencil sharpening thing didn't seem to be working for me (once in 6th grade, once in 7th grade). I must have had very kind teachers because both time they just asked me if I was alright and let it drop (thank you Ms. King and Mr. Hansen). Oh....and I once ran away from my sister. We were looking through some of her first aid books at the kitchen table and I guess I couldn't stomach it. I politely excused myself ("excuse me") and went tearing down the hall to my mother room, screaming and yelling that I was going to throw up, over and over again (It's too bad I can't record an audio version of Christy imitating me and post it......she does a REALLY good impression).
So....as time went on I began to incorporate things into "my crazy", as I saw fit, that would help me to better "control" my world.
My brother got food poisoning at a restaurant (he ate some bad shrimp but also had a huge plate of spaghetti) and threw up on my mom's new sage green carpet. She spent hours scrubbing red sauce from said carpet (and from off the cupboards in the hall) and I heard her, in the morning say something like "all over my carpet, I wish he would have gotten to the bowl (which was right across the hall). Now, I never wanted my mother to have to clean up my throw up so.....
Rule #3 Never eat red sauce on your spaghetti (In fact, I stopped eating anything I could ever remember ANYONE throwing up aka. corn dogs--kimberly 1st grade, rice krispies- tory 3rd grade (and on my pillow, I might add....I didn't eat them again until after I was in college), Mi Ranchito-Andrew and Stacy unknown time, and the list goes on and on.)
Rule #4 Never sleep without a bowl next to your bed (just in case)
Rule #5 Never step in that spot on the carpet again (I don't know how many years I spent jumping over the spot I had seen the towel covering that morning...too many).
About the time I started sleeping with a bowl next to my bed (you could say it was my security blanket) I had developed a nightly routine. It consisted of things that could either hinder my way in getting to the toilet in time, just in case of course, or things that would burn my house down (by this time, as well, I had had a few friends whose houses had burned down. One because of a curling iron and one because clothes got under the water heater. See what I mean about continually incorporating things.......always incorporating). Once the routine was in full swing, it went like this: Everyone was in bed, I started in the bathroom. Toilet seat up, ALL small appliances (curling irons, blow dryers, etc) unplugged, rugs straight, shower curtain pulled closed, flick lights on and off in increments of 7, check everything all over again.......exit. Make sure nothing is in hall. Straighten hall rug. Go into kitchen. Unplug all small appliances (toasters, etc), straighten rugs, check and re-check back door lock, lights...again in 7's, check everything again....exit. Living room. Since this was not in my path to the bathroom, as long as all lamps were unplugged, I was good.....exit. Straighten already straight hall rug, again. Down the stairs (which had to be free of all debris) to the landing (split entry). Straighten rug.......lights inside and out in increments of 7, bolt and unbolt the dead bolt, again, 7 times.......re-straighten the rug.......down the next flight of stairs (with the same routine on that landing). Into laundry room. Check under the water heater for clothes. Recheck under the water heater for clothes. Swipe the broom under the water heater for dirt, dust....and of course, any clothes I may have not seen the first two times. Then, down on my knees to "just make sure." Push all clothes away from heater......flick lights in 7's. Finally, into my room. Once there I would crawl into bed, pull my bowl out from underneath and set it on the table. Breath a sigh of relief. That is for 2 or 3 seconds. Most of the time, I would worry that something didn't get done and I would go do the whole routine AT LEAST one or two more times that night. And that was only if someone did not come home. You see.....I had older teenage siblings who had late curfews. If I was still awake when one of them came home, I would lie in bed waiting for them to go to bed and start the routine all over again. Sometimes it would be done 6 or 7 times in one night. Sounds exhausting doesn't it? Well.....it was.
Eventually raw meat came into play because one day I put a piece of raw chicken between my teeth (who the heck knows why) and my sister said, "Ew.....don't do that. It could have salmonella and that will make you throw up." Oh....all heck broke loose from there. I was a prisoner in my own home. I refused to touch ANYTHING in the kitchen with my hands, especially if my mom was cooking meat. I opened everything with my feet (even the upper cupboards, luckily for me I was a gymnast and I could reach them that way). If, for some reason, I was forced to touch a handle or towel, i would wash my hands 2-3 times in the kitchen and another 2-3 times in the bathroom and would not dry them (who knows what other people had touched before they touched the towel)......my hands got pretty bad. I ended up damaging several layers of skin. Which actually, eventually, became my door to freedom.
In tenth grade (4-5 years after it all began) my dad took me to a dermatologist so he could have a look at my hands/wrists (which I swear were not much more than a tiny layer of skin covering the bone...okay not that bad but close). The Dr. asked me a few questions then turned to my dad and said, "I think she needs more help than just mine. I think she may need to see a psychiatrist." I was horrified. In the car, on the way home, my dad turned to me and said, "Melanie, you can take care of this on your own." It clicked. I think I was just so tired and soooooo ready to be done with it that I fought with all my might to get over it from that point on (although my parents believe they were already seeing improvements before then, I just don't remember it that way).
At first I was given allowance to do my routine ONCE a night......ONCE. That was it. My sister, who I shared a bed with, was given strict instructions not to let me out of my bed after the ONCE and eventually, I was not allowed to do it at all. The bowl was no longer allowed to come up on top of the night stand, from there it could not come out from under the bed, until eventually it went upstairs. I will never forget the first night I slept without it. I came up stairs, the sun was coming in the kitchen window, the bowl was on the kitchen counter (it has just been freed from it's years worth of dust) and my mom said to me "You did it." It was invigorating.
The only complaint my parents ever had after that was that THEY now had to make sure the house was secured for the night and they hadn't had to do it for years. My dad said he was going to miss that much, at least.
So......years and years later I count myself mostly cured. I still sometimes catch myself looking for the nearest garbage can in really confined courters (movie theaters, the grocery store, the temple, he he it's true), I still am pretty cautious with raw meats (although having three children leaves me no time or energy to spend an hour and a half cleaning up after chicken (which i have pulled out of the freezer in a plastic bag, inside of another plastic bag and taken out of the bag with disposable gloves)). I like to think that I take the normal precautions anyone, in MY generation, would to clean up after myself (sorry Mom and Cathy.....you still don't meet my standards of cleanliness as far as raw stuff is concerned(but like my momma says, "I haven't poisoned anyone yet...and it's true.)......Thank you Rob for humoring me when I am in the room....(who knows what you do when my back is turned)....and only rolling your eyes sometimes. What a sweet boy).
As said before, when you are in the thick of it......not so funny.....in fact, very far from funny.....but, now I enjoy it. It is just a reminder of a few things: #1 The mind is a very powerful thing; #2 Fear can, and eventually will, eat you alive; #3 There is no greater support than that of your family; and lastly but most importantly #4 The LORD is on your side. He can and will help you to overcome ANY obstacle you face.
I hope you enjoyed the novel. If you thought it was too long, or didn't like it, then sorry, but if you are reading this then you have no one to blame but yourself for completing it.
I promise the next few posts will be REALLY short to make up for it. He He!
Now.....having said that I can now say that I quite enjoy these memories and get a good laugh from them.... so will you (I hope).
It has taken many years of self-evaluation and analyzation and sorting through memory after memory to try to determine how each piece of the "crazy" puzzle fit together. I'm sure at one point I was a normal, healthy child and then one day I became "Super Crazy Melanie, only, not-so-crazy-outside-of-my-home (which is unusual for people with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. They usually do fine inside their homes....have you ever seen "As Good As It Gets? Anyhow........).
Now like I said before, my disorder, focussed mainly around anxiety which is what?.....Fear. So, essentially, anything I was afraid of I had to take "control" of and in the process of trying to "control" it, I lost control. Here's my story.
I think it must have all started in the fifth grade. Something about fifth grade rings a bell but I have no specific memories. My "oh so scary crazy side" must have just been laying dormant waiting for the right time to emerge.
Cause #1
I was afraid of throwing up. I mean, no one likes to throw up, but I was actually afraid of it. I had not thrown up since I was quite young and I had forgotten what it was like. Nothing is more fearful than the unknown, right, so........hence my fear of vomit, it is what started the whole blasted mess.
One day in sixth grade a boy in my class, named Armondo, threw up on the stairs to our class trailer. Everyone saw it and had to step over it to get back to class and I had to sit next to him. I must have been really embarrassed for him because I went home and told my mom how bad I felt for him because of it (I don't remember telling my mom, but she does). Lucky for me....Armondo sat next to me in class and always chewed Fruit Stripe Gum...so....to me, Fruit Stripe Gum = throw up, and I never chewed it again.
A little first grader, while we were practicing Spanish Christmas carols (I was in Spanish immersion and every year we sang Christmas carols at the mall) threw up in the front row (I was in the back). The teachers had to take him out, while he was still barfing in a garbage can, and he had to walk in front of all of us to get out. Hence, rule #1 and #2 were born.
Rule #1 NEVER throw up in public. This means.....avoid all confined spaces, you will never get out in time.....just in case, right?
Rule #2 When in public, always keep track of the nearest garbage can. That way, you can barf in there. There is already a liner, and some of them are portable. You can take them with you while you run our of the room (just like the little boy).
Our classroom, at school, was really small. I started suffering from anxiety attacks. I would get all this, who knows what, pent up inside and it would cause my stomach to do flips which would make me think I had to throw up (remember, I couldn't remember what it ACTUALLY felt like to be nauseated so I had no idea that I wasn't actually sick). It didn't take me too long to realize that if I could just walk around a bit and breath I could calm myself down so.....at a very young age (which, the counselor I went to see a few years ago was amazed with) I learned that when this happened I just needed to buy some time to relax so I would keep an extra pencil on my desk so I could get up, during class discussions, and pretend to sharpen my pencil. It worked most of the time. I only remember twice actually running out of the classroom after the whole pencil sharpening thing didn't seem to be working for me (once in 6th grade, once in 7th grade). I must have had very kind teachers because both time they just asked me if I was alright and let it drop (thank you Ms. King and Mr. Hansen). Oh....and I once ran away from my sister. We were looking through some of her first aid books at the kitchen table and I guess I couldn't stomach it. I politely excused myself ("excuse me") and went tearing down the hall to my mother room, screaming and yelling that I was going to throw up, over and over again (It's too bad I can't record an audio version of Christy imitating me and post it......she does a REALLY good impression).
So....as time went on I began to incorporate things into "my crazy", as I saw fit, that would help me to better "control" my world.
My brother got food poisoning at a restaurant (he ate some bad shrimp but also had a huge plate of spaghetti) and threw up on my mom's new sage green carpet. She spent hours scrubbing red sauce from said carpet (and from off the cupboards in the hall) and I heard her, in the morning say something like "all over my carpet, I wish he would have gotten to the bowl (which was right across the hall). Now, I never wanted my mother to have to clean up my throw up so.....
Rule #3 Never eat red sauce on your spaghetti (In fact, I stopped eating anything I could ever remember ANYONE throwing up aka. corn dogs--kimberly 1st grade, rice krispies- tory 3rd grade (and on my pillow, I might add....I didn't eat them again until after I was in college), Mi Ranchito-Andrew and Stacy unknown time, and the list goes on and on.)
Rule #4 Never sleep without a bowl next to your bed (just in case)
Rule #5 Never step in that spot on the carpet again (I don't know how many years I spent jumping over the spot I had seen the towel covering that morning...too many).
About the time I started sleeping with a bowl next to my bed (you could say it was my security blanket) I had developed a nightly routine. It consisted of things that could either hinder my way in getting to the toilet in time, just in case of course, or things that would burn my house down (by this time, as well, I had had a few friends whose houses had burned down. One because of a curling iron and one because clothes got under the water heater. See what I mean about continually incorporating things.......always incorporating). Once the routine was in full swing, it went like this: Everyone was in bed, I started in the bathroom. Toilet seat up, ALL small appliances (curling irons, blow dryers, etc) unplugged, rugs straight, shower curtain pulled closed, flick lights on and off in increments of 7, check everything all over again.......exit. Make sure nothing is in hall. Straighten hall rug. Go into kitchen. Unplug all small appliances (toasters, etc), straighten rugs, check and re-check back door lock, lights...again in 7's, check everything again....exit. Living room. Since this was not in my path to the bathroom, as long as all lamps were unplugged, I was good.....exit. Straighten already straight hall rug, again. Down the stairs (which had to be free of all debris) to the landing (split entry). Straighten rug.......lights inside and out in increments of 7, bolt and unbolt the dead bolt, again, 7 times.......re-straighten the rug.......down the next flight of stairs (with the same routine on that landing). Into laundry room. Check under the water heater for clothes. Recheck under the water heater for clothes. Swipe the broom under the water heater for dirt, dust....and of course, any clothes I may have not seen the first two times. Then, down on my knees to "just make sure." Push all clothes away from heater......flick lights in 7's. Finally, into my room. Once there I would crawl into bed, pull my bowl out from underneath and set it on the table. Breath a sigh of relief. That is for 2 or 3 seconds. Most of the time, I would worry that something didn't get done and I would go do the whole routine AT LEAST one or two more times that night. And that was only if someone did not come home. You see.....I had older teenage siblings who had late curfews. If I was still awake when one of them came home, I would lie in bed waiting for them to go to bed and start the routine all over again. Sometimes it would be done 6 or 7 times in one night. Sounds exhausting doesn't it? Well.....it was.
Eventually raw meat came into play because one day I put a piece of raw chicken between my teeth (who the heck knows why) and my sister said, "Ew.....don't do that. It could have salmonella and that will make you throw up." Oh....all heck broke loose from there. I was a prisoner in my own home. I refused to touch ANYTHING in the kitchen with my hands, especially if my mom was cooking meat. I opened everything with my feet (even the upper cupboards, luckily for me I was a gymnast and I could reach them that way). If, for some reason, I was forced to touch a handle or towel, i would wash my hands 2-3 times in the kitchen and another 2-3 times in the bathroom and would not dry them (who knows what other people had touched before they touched the towel)......my hands got pretty bad. I ended up damaging several layers of skin. Which actually, eventually, became my door to freedom.
In tenth grade (4-5 years after it all began) my dad took me to a dermatologist so he could have a look at my hands/wrists (which I swear were not much more than a tiny layer of skin covering the bone...okay not that bad but close). The Dr. asked me a few questions then turned to my dad and said, "I think she needs more help than just mine. I think she may need to see a psychiatrist." I was horrified. In the car, on the way home, my dad turned to me and said, "Melanie, you can take care of this on your own." It clicked. I think I was just so tired and soooooo ready to be done with it that I fought with all my might to get over it from that point on (although my parents believe they were already seeing improvements before then, I just don't remember it that way).
At first I was given allowance to do my routine ONCE a night......ONCE. That was it. My sister, who I shared a bed with, was given strict instructions not to let me out of my bed after the ONCE and eventually, I was not allowed to do it at all. The bowl was no longer allowed to come up on top of the night stand, from there it could not come out from under the bed, until eventually it went upstairs. I will never forget the first night I slept without it. I came up stairs, the sun was coming in the kitchen window, the bowl was on the kitchen counter (it has just been freed from it's years worth of dust) and my mom said to me "You did it." It was invigorating.
The only complaint my parents ever had after that was that THEY now had to make sure the house was secured for the night and they hadn't had to do it for years. My dad said he was going to miss that much, at least.
So......years and years later I count myself mostly cured. I still sometimes catch myself looking for the nearest garbage can in really confined courters (movie theaters, the grocery store, the temple, he he it's true), I still am pretty cautious with raw meats (although having three children leaves me no time or energy to spend an hour and a half cleaning up after chicken (which i have pulled out of the freezer in a plastic bag, inside of another plastic bag and taken out of the bag with disposable gloves)). I like to think that I take the normal precautions anyone, in MY generation, would to clean up after myself (sorry Mom and Cathy.....you still don't meet my standards of cleanliness as far as raw stuff is concerned(but like my momma says, "I haven't poisoned anyone yet...and it's true.)......Thank you Rob for humoring me when I am in the room....(who knows what you do when my back is turned)....and only rolling your eyes sometimes. What a sweet boy).
As said before, when you are in the thick of it......not so funny.....in fact, very far from funny.....but, now I enjoy it. It is just a reminder of a few things: #1 The mind is a very powerful thing; #2 Fear can, and eventually will, eat you alive; #3 There is no greater support than that of your family; and lastly but most importantly #4 The LORD is on your side. He can and will help you to overcome ANY obstacle you face.
I hope you enjoyed the novel. If you thought it was too long, or didn't like it, then sorry, but if you are reading this then you have no one to blame but yourself for completing it.
I promise the next few posts will be REALLY short to make up for it. He He!
Flippen' funny story....no, still not the OCD one....but still VERY funny!
Okay, so this story is not mine. I heard it on the radio the other day but laughed for hours over it (actually I am still laughing a little inside when I think about it......okay, even a lot sometimes.).
So........this man on a local "talk radio" show called in the other day to relate this story about his sister (now mind you, this is my version of the story......nothing is to be passed off as a quote unless it is in "quotation" marks, okay?).
She was in Vegas playing the slots and doing really well, you know, cleaning up the place. She had a HUGE bucket of quarters and decided to call it a night (early morning would be my guess....but anyway)
She was feeling very nervous carrying around this large sum of money (how much money can you have in a bucket really....okay, I will stop making wise cracks, the story is funny enough without them) and made her way quickly to the elevators that would take her up to her room.
When the elevator doors opened she was even more frightened because standing against the back wall were "two big black guys" and here she was, all by herself with all this loot (side note from the caller, "Now my sister is not racist. In fact, she is as far from being racist as anyone could be. She was highly suspicious of everyone, and the fact that they were pretty big guys scared her to death). So here she is shaking in her underpants and one of the men says, "Hit the floor."
She didn't even hesitate. She droped to the floor in a panic, quarters go flying everywhere, and the two man start laughing hysterically. She, feeling quite foolish, as she is now lying on the floor of an elevator, stands up slowly and stares straight ahead at the doors until it reaches her floor.
The two men help her pick up her money and even INSIST on walking her to her room to make sure that both she and her quarters get there safely.
The next morning she comes out of her room to find a dozen roses, each with $100 bill wrapped around the stem and a note that says,
"Thanks for the best laugh we have had in years." Love, Micheal Jordan and Eddie Murphy
Isn't that great. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
Heck, I'm still laughing.
So........this man on a local "talk radio" show called in the other day to relate this story about his sister (now mind you, this is my version of the story......nothing is to be passed off as a quote unless it is in "quotation" marks, okay?).
She was in Vegas playing the slots and doing really well, you know, cleaning up the place. She had a HUGE bucket of quarters and decided to call it a night (early morning would be my guess....but anyway)
She was feeling very nervous carrying around this large sum of money (how much money can you have in a bucket really....okay, I will stop making wise cracks, the story is funny enough without them) and made her way quickly to the elevators that would take her up to her room.
When the elevator doors opened she was even more frightened because standing against the back wall were "two big black guys" and here she was, all by herself with all this loot (side note from the caller, "Now my sister is not racist. In fact, she is as far from being racist as anyone could be. She was highly suspicious of everyone, and the fact that they were pretty big guys scared her to death). So here she is shaking in her underpants and one of the men says, "Hit the floor."
She didn't even hesitate. She droped to the floor in a panic, quarters go flying everywhere, and the two man start laughing hysterically. She, feeling quite foolish, as she is now lying on the floor of an elevator, stands up slowly and stares straight ahead at the doors until it reaches her floor.
The two men help her pick up her money and even INSIST on walking her to her room to make sure that both she and her quarters get there safely.
The next morning she comes out of her room to find a dozen roses, each with $100 bill wrapped around the stem and a note that says,
"Thanks for the best laugh we have had in years." Love, Micheal Jordan and Eddie Murphy
Isn't that great. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
Heck, I'm still laughing.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Oh....what could have become of me?
So after this latest entry I thought it might be a good idea to start an anonymous blog so I could vent all of my frustrations and annoyances and mean things I had to say about myself, other people, places, and circumstances. See....I want this (as in Testosterone Overload) blog to be happy and, like I said before, I try to look for positive things to write about so that I am focusing on the good things is life but sometimes I just want to vent. I had a few ideas. Maybe I would just have a blog where I could write but no one would have access to it (what would be the point?....I know). Maybe I could just invite a few people (whom of course I would not write about) to view it.....and maybe i would just invite the whole world to be a part of my negative word vomit (for venting sake only, of course).
I set it up. I even spent quite a long time thinking about what I would call it and how I would run it, etc. But......I just couldn't do it. I never posted one entry. Not that I wouldn't have things to say. Ohhhhh, I could come up with plenty to say, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how bad of an idea it would be for me (I could get soooooo carried away). I was afraid it would poison my soul. Over and over I thought to myself, "It will poison your soul....don't do it." So, who knows whether or not I am just crazy and have voices in my head or whether or not it was the Lord trying to warn me of the consequences of such actions. Either way, I deleted the blank blog this morning. It was a hard thing to give it up but.....I did it.
So what does that have to do with you, you are asking? Well, I may, every once and a while, have to post a gripe or an annoyance just to get it out of my system but all-in-all I hope to keep this as nice and happy as possible. Deal.....okay, Deal. Let's shake on it.
I set it up. I even spent quite a long time thinking about what I would call it and how I would run it, etc. But......I just couldn't do it. I never posted one entry. Not that I wouldn't have things to say. Ohhhhh, I could come up with plenty to say, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how bad of an idea it would be for me (I could get soooooo carried away). I was afraid it would poison my soul. Over and over I thought to myself, "It will poison your soul....don't do it." So, who knows whether or not I am just crazy and have voices in my head or whether or not it was the Lord trying to warn me of the consequences of such actions. Either way, I deleted the blank blog this morning. It was a hard thing to give it up but.....I did it.
So what does that have to do with you, you are asking? Well, I may, every once and a while, have to post a gripe or an annoyance just to get it out of my system but all-in-all I hope to keep this as nice and happy as possible. Deal.....okay, Deal. Let's shake on it.
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