Pain in the Butt

I woke up on Friday morning without my usual reaction: Falling out of bed trying to reach my phone that I can never reach, but it will just not shut up. Because I don't have telepathy. No, this past Friday, I couldn't even muster enough motion to fall out of the bed. Finally, I sat up and pain shot through my entire body. I have to tell you, I have a pretty high pain tolerance. But this, this just about sent me over the edge.



My tailbone! I nursed it the rest of the day by sitting only when I needed to, and lounging on the couch like someone who resided in the Greco-Roman empires. The next day, I lounged around some more, but then I had a church function and had to be on my feet for a couple hours. I felt surprisingly well afterward. I thought, "Hey! I'm on the mend." Meanwhile, I had been asking Dr. Google for his advice. People are like, "This happened to me too. Try this. It didn't work for me, but hey, try it anyway."

I've met with a physical therapist and have a chiropractor appointment scheduled for Thursday night. Hopefully it will get a little bit better.

R and R

I know I'm getting old. I'm slowly, but surely, coming to terms with it. When I woke up this morning, I was not only suffering from THE PLAGUE THAT WILL NEVER EVER GO AWAY, but also was having back spasms. Nathan slept with us all night last night (I think he's still under the weather), which I think contributed to my back pain ... but man.

This brings me to something I've realized recently: the true value of sleep. I think many Americans - particularly moms - believe that sleep is a luxury. We feel guilty if we get too much, you know, because we could have been really "productive" during that time. Well, with my broken back and darned lousy immune system, I understand that it's not a luxury. Sleep is a necessity that I need to make time for.

So, in the next couple of weeks, I'm working on a couple of things:

1. Weaning myself from extraneous TV programs that just keep me up too late. Even with DVR, you have to figure out a time to watch it. But man, I really loves TV.
2. Going to bed by 10:30 at least 5 nights per week. I think this is going to be really difficult for me. I don't mind "going to bed", but I usually read or now that I have a new laptop (thank you Targo!), work on interwebs-related things. You know what? I'm just going to have to do that from 9:30 to 10:30.

I'm sure there were more things, but I can't think of them right now.

Any ideas of how to implement this HUGE life change?

Is There a Doctor in the House?

Are there any physical therapists out there? (Besides my friend Colleen.)

I think I've permanently damaged my right arm (and my back, OY!) from carrying Nathan in his car seat. He just passed 18 pounds, so I'm taking him out of it - usually. The only times I leave him in it is if he's asleep. I wake the kid up at 6:00-6:15 to get him ready for daycare. The least I can do is let him sleep when he falls asleep in the car.

Anyhoo - I'm learning (about time!) and am not carrying him in the car seat ANY MORE. But, what can I do about my right arm? It's weird, tingly, hurts ... and just not right. Know what I mean?

I know what you're thinking, because I think it too: How can someone that inarticulate get a PhD? *shrug*

Belly Watch #11

*Edit* I'm going to try to post every day, even if it's something super lame, until the baby is born. I was thinking about how frustrating it is when you're waiting around for a blogger friend to have a baby ... and suddenly she doesn't post for three days and you're thinking "Yay! Baby." But really, it's because she's been way too busy eating all of the ice cream in the house.

You know, I'm feeling pretty good, aside from my rib dysfunction thingie. But, I have to tell you, I'm about done. Thank you to the moms out there who told me that I'm not a wimp, because these last couple of weeks are really hard. I just feel like a wimp, seriously. I cannot tell you how many naps I've taken in the past week. I know many of you are thinking "Man, I wish I could take naps!" Well... they're awesome, it's true. But I wish I could sleep at night. Here's why I can't:

*cough*Belly*

*cough*Magic*

He knocked this box down - without breaking any of the glasses - just two hours after this photo was taken. Dork.

Dysfunction

Gah... two weeks and counting. I'm very uncomfortable today and my back - it hurts a lot. I'm not sure I explained my actual injury. Somehow, when The Targo and I started running, I hurt the muscles between my shoulders. Because it was painful, I actually altered the way I stand, the way I sit, and my gait, which resulted in a rib dysfunction. I have no idea what that is either... but after a year (plus) of chiropractic care and physical therapy, I was feeling good. And then I got pregnant. And suddenly, this baby got really big. And the rib dysfunction is quite dysfunctional and I smell ... like Icy Hot ... like, all the time. This is just a big whine and really, I don't know why I had to share. Meh.

So anyway, The Targo and I were at his parents' house tonight, going through baby pictures. Good lawd, he was a cute kid. Unfortunately, they didn't have their scanner hooked up, so no pics for you.

I recently visited my aunt's website and found a couple of pictures from when I was little. Man... the Seventies and photos. What the heck was up with that orange color that all the pictures seemed to have. And don't get me started on Grandma Jones' ugly furniture... Especially her davenport (real people may say sofa or couch.). Lucky for you, I cropped it out! Heh.

Here are two shots I found. I had to crop people out of them though, thus the awkwardness.


This is a shot of my youngest brother, Chris, and me. The caption says 1977... so, I would have been almost two. I'm not sure if that's right. What I know is wrong - Chris's knee socks. Seriously? Oh and the LPGA visor is not a good look. At all.


This next picture is allegedly Christmas of 1979, which I know is a lie. I think this was 1982. Looking back to my second grade picture (in my mind), that sounds about right. There's never been a four year old that tall. So, I'm thinking I was 7.

All of this babbling and silliness has a point. What say you, internets? Is this my nose?

On the Geriatric Moving Crew and Why I Have No Internets

Hindsight is 20/20. Oh yeah it is. (And also, this is a boring story. I just gotsta vent!)

Our parents were awesome. My mom and dad drove into Chicago on Friday night and helped us take a load of stuff to our new place. It made me think that it wasn't going to be so bad on Saturday.

Unfortunately, it was that bad. Part if it was that I was crabby. Part of it was that everything we moved uncovered dust bunnies larger than Magic. And another part of it was that it just too much work for 3 old people, my mom (who is neither old nor gimpy), The Targo and his gimpy back, and me (who was little help).

Keep in mind that we lived in a one bedroom apartment. It really should not have been that much stuff. But the Targo and I became so good at storage solutions that there was something hiding in every nook and cranny. And also, two PhD students have a lot of books. A hella lot.

We started at 8:00 Saturday morning. I had originally planned on taking the cats to the new place early, but decided against it. The Targo had already dumped their food. So, the poor critters were shut in the bedroom with the Amazon Dust Bunnies from Outer Space without food. There was much howling. My dad and The Targo went to get the truck. They came back with one that had no loading ramp or lift. Dear God. That probably tacked an hour and an a half onto our move. My dad used to be a Pepsi man, so he loved driving the truck. I think he might be a closet Tetris player too, because he packed that thing like a pro!

We finally got the truck to our new place at noon. *weep, sob*

My parents left at 4:00 to head back home. The Targo's parents stayed until 5:00. Then we snoozed on our bed, which was definitely in place, for about twenty minutes and then went back to the old place to finish cleaning and load up the last of the stuff. (HOW DID WE HOARD SO MUCH STUFF IN SUCH A SMALL SPACE???) We finally made it home, our new home, around 8:00 that night.

On the bright side, we had Guatemalan cuisine (yummy) and Gelato that night. (And we saw The Simpsons Movie on Sunday.)

I couldn't find my toothbrush or shampoo and I nearly cried. I think I was too tired to manufacture tears.

The kitties appear to be adjusting okay. Magic spends much of his time under the bed, but comes out when you call him. Mystic has staked out her sunny spots and demands belly rubs as you pass by. If we didn't live amongst 400 boxes, I would say life is just about normal.

*****

The Targo, on the phone at 5:45 pm: Oh hi. We had a phone, cable and internet install scheduled from 1-5 today. We were just wondering if the technician was on his way.

Evil Phone/Cable/Interweb conglomerate: Um no. The technician had a family emergency and our other guys are trying to pick up his appointments. How's Thursday from 1-5 sound? We'll waive your installation fee.

The Targo, watching Marianne's head explode: Oh that's fine. Thanks! Have a good day!

Marianne faints at the prospect of no phone, cable, or internet for 6 days.

He's so nice, that Targo.

I'm So Blonde and How Was Your Weekend?

Despite the faux platinum currently residing on my head, I'm a natural blonde. It's just a much more natural-looking natural. Heh. But that has nothing to do with anything. What I want to tell you is that yes, I have blonde moments. I like to think I'm one of those blondes that blonde jokes DON'T apply to, but then I'll drop a brick on my head. What can you do?

So, then...Today, I went to physical therapy and was all panicky because I was running late. And that damn bus just would.not.come. I finally got there, at 8:47 for my 8:45 appointment. I was all flustered and sweaty and hot and icky and... it was the wrong day. Yeah. My appointment is tomorrow. #*%@#%@

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Soooo, how was your weekend? Ours was nice. No, I didn't get to see Pirates of the Caribbean. The Targo decided he didn't want to pay Chicago prices for that or Shrek the Third. Me? I don't pay for movies. That's his job. I buy pizza.

We went to The Targo's parents' house for the obligatory Memorial Day cookout. Rock on! The Targo's dad cooked some sort of ribs for everyone but me. For me, he sweetly made boneless barbecued chicken breasts. I's spoilt!

It was a nice time. Too, I got to hang out with this guy:


Even if you're not a dog person, you've got to love this face. C'mon. That mug says "I'm so dopey, you gotta love me."

And also - there's Honey, the in-law's other dog, a soft-coated Wheaten terrier. She's a teddy bear. I want to eat her feet!


Aren't these dogs cute? Admit it: You totally wish you were hanging with me over Memorial Day. Don't ya?

A Lot of Nothing Going On

Did you guys watch the season finale of American Idol? I admit it - I did not. I sort of hit the pause button on my life when baseball season starts. I was watching the Oakland A's shut down the White Sox. AND - "watching" my beloved St. Louis Cardinals win their 2nd game in a row. For those of you who follow baseball - the Cardinals have been so unbelievably bad that winning one game is monumental, let alone two. What? Oh! AI. I heart Jordin! She was so super cute.

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I've also been "window-shopping" online for a bridesmaid dress for my friend Julie's wedding. She's getting married in southeast Missouri in October. Julie is 6 feet tall. I'll be standing up with her and her tall Jayne Mansfield-esque sisters. It's going to be an awesome wedding. So, let me know if you see any red bridesmaid dresses (floor-length) that might look good on a chunktastic gal, such as myself. Really, these girls are so lovely that at my best, I'd still look short and dumpy.

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Random Mother-in-Law note: The Targo's mom is very sweet to me. She says things that inspire gape-mouthed double takes, but she's very kind to me. The other day I was telling her that I only had two more baby showers for friends in the near future. I was relieved, sort of, because I love spoiling my girls and right now, I'm trying to put some money back. She looked at me for a second and said: "Is the next baby a boy or a girl?" I told her the parents decided they didn't want to know. So, she rushed upstairs and brought down two adorable yellow outfits.

MIL: These are the only unisex outfits I've got. I have one with Lego's, but I'm saving that for my friend's son and his wife.

Me: Oh! Are they expecting?

MIL: No, but he loved Lego's as a kid. I bought a couple of others, but I'm saving those for my grandchildren.

*Dumb.blonde.look.silence*

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I went to physical therapy on Tuesday and was encouraged to do more core strengthening to help my back pain. The problem? Well, besides the facts that I'm a couch potato and hate working out alone, the elliptical has been killing my back. The Targo will be running his last race of the season (until Halloween, I think) on Saturday. I think we'll be going back to our 3-4 mile walks at night. Those of you who are runners - or taking up running - have my admiration. But also my lack of understanding. If a bear is chasing me, yeah I'll run. That's about it.

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Happy Thursday!

Sick Day

Gah... The plague. She has taken over my body!

I felt sort of lousy all day yesterday, but last night my eyes started burning, I started coughing, and my nose began to run ... a lot.

I went to physical therapy this morning and after that I just called into work. I'm a wuss. I can't do it today. My previous job was in health care and they really hated it when people came to work sick. Personally, I hate it too. "Thanks so much for spreading your cooties!" :-) The rest of my day will be spent in bed, feeling sorry for myself, coughing up a lung, and hopefully, I'll be 100% tomorrow. But, I have a most important question: Why does daytime TV suck so bad? WOW. How many shows can there be about paternity tests?

I hate being sick... mostly because I'm a baby.

101 (Useless) Things

This morning, I posted my 100th entry! Isn't it crazy? I'm the person who has been working on her dissertation for YEARS and yet, I can write 100 posts about nothing - well, sometimes about my cats. I'm not really sure that's better. Hmm.

To be honest, I definitely don't think I'm interesting enough for 100 things, but it's one of my favorite things to read on other blogs. Especially when people are funny. Love that.

And since this is my 101st post, I'm going to list 101 Things:

1. My name is Marianne. I cannot tell you how often people spell it wrong. Or worse, don't know how to pronounce it.
2. Even worse? My last name is very short and is a word that appears in the English language as a noun, verb, and onomatopoeia; yet people still don't understand it when I say it
3. The Targo's has a long Polish last name. But it's phonetic.
   
4. Um, I guess that's my last name now too. Neither the Social Security Office nor the DMV is aware of this fact.
5. By the way, I do have a middle name.
6. I'm the youngest of four kids. The only girl. And the only one between my parents.
7. But I'm not spoiled. I'm well-loved.
8. Everyone in my family has a million nicknames. This freaks The Targo out because sometimes he doesn't know who I'm talking about.
9. I had several nicknames as a kid and my dad still calls me "Mouse."
   
10. I became an aunt the first time when I was six years old. My mom became a grandma at 29. That's not as white trash as it sounds, because she's my oldest brother's step-mom.
11. I have always been a crazy cat lady.
    
12. My first cat (she was actually my youngest brother's cat) died my sophomore year of high school. She was 20. And gross.
13. I went to grad school and got my first ever dog. He was a black lab named Jake and I loved him more than my long-time boyfriend.
    
14. When I moved to Chicago, Jake moved in with my parents and their pool. He was most happy.
15. He died in October 2005 and I cried for two days.
16. I only have one friend from high school that I still talk to. And sadly, we don't talk that much.
    
17. My closest friends are the girls I met in college.
18. And Sloth. I was the best man in his wedding.
19. And Amy. She's my soul-mate. *Shhhhhhhh... Don't tell the Targo! Or Amy's husband.*
20. I always wanted "mall-bangs" in high school, but my hair was too thick and too straight for it to work. And? I hate hair products.
21. I'm a diehard St. Louis Cardinals fan. It's in my genes. I don't know what the Targo (a diehard White Sox fan) and I are going to do if we have children. It's almost like having conflicting religions. At least he's not a Cubs fan.
22. I'm totally a Tomboy. I love playing sports and know a lot of sports trivia.
23. But I'm too chunky to be athletic.
24. I'm not afraid of spiders.
25. Or snakes. In fact, one of my childhood cat used to bring snakes into the house. It would freak my mom out. I'd pick up the snake and throw it into the neighbor's yard.
26. But, I'm totally gagged-out by flies. *ICKALOT*
27. I have really eclectic taste in music. I thank my mom for that. Aside from her, her entire family is musically gifted. She made up for it by having an awesome vinyl collection.
    
28. I used to play the saxophone. I was not very good, but I really enjoyed it. Except taking a tenor sax on the bus. So not fun.
    
29. I was in marching band in high school and college. In high school, I twirled the rifle. In college I was a flag-twirler, which wasn't as cool.
    
30. I broke my own nose once when I caught my rifle with one hand but missed it with the other. I have a scar and I consider it a battle wound.
31. I've broken four fingers (but not my thumb) on my right hand. Again, battle wounds.
32. My dad broke my nose once. He ran over a stick with the lawnmower and it flew thirty feet and smacked me in the nose.
33. My nose doesn't work so well for breathing.
    
34. I've always had weight issues (like most American girls). Two of my brothers used to say "Oh! One more jelly donut and they'll roll you to high school." They're mean. And all three are very thin.
    
35. The thinnest I've ever been was my freshman year of college when all of the dorm food made me sick. I was a size six. And for the first time in my life, I had cheekbones.
36. It didn't last long.
37. I have size 9 1/2 feet. And I'm 5'3". Now how does that make sense?
38. Once when I was shoe shopping, the sales guy at Lady Foot Locker recommended I wear the box. Jerk.
    
39. The Targo has huge feet too. But he's about 6' tall.
40. Speaking of The Targo: I really like him.
41. We met in 1999 and became instant friends. He was really shy, but so cute. I was happy-go-lucky, which made up for my lack of cuteness.
    
42. Then something happened: He broke up with his girlfriend.
43. We started dating the following week.
44. It was a long haul, but I finally got him to marry me.
45. I love The Simpsons.
46. And South Park.
47. And Law & Order. Especially SVU.
48. And HGTV.
    
49. And the Ghost Whisperer.
50. I love TV.
51. And TiVo changed my life. Dear Lord!
52. The Targo makes fun of my TiVo choices, but once had two shows about the giant squid. So there.
    
53. I read voraciously.
54. But I'm embarrassed to elaborate on that.
55. Because my taste in books is even worse than my taste in TV shows.
    
56. I think I'm hooked on blogs.
57. Especially Mommy Blogs.
58. Because I'm obviously baby crazy.
59. Or perhaps just crazy.
    
60. I've recently become a homebody. It drives The Targo crazy because we live in a tiny, mole-hole apartment.
61. We're moving into a larger apartment this summer. Thank God.
62. My parents still live in the same house we moved into when I was 2 1/2 years old.
    
63. Since I graduated from high school, I've lived in three different towns.
64. I've moved a bajillion times. And I still have stuff in boxes.
    
65. I love living in Chicago, but I'm sort of ready to move again.
66. I want to live near the mountains. And get a couple mountain dogs.
67. I have fantasies of buying acres of land and building three houses on them: one for us, one for my in-laws, and one for my parents.
68. I think that would officially make it a compound.
69. When I was in grade school, I wrote short stories about ghosts and stuff like that.
70. When I was in high school, I wrote short romances.
71. I never much succeeded in English. And I'm sure you can see why: I write like I speak. So. NOT. Good.
72. But, I'm a miracle term paper writer. Like, 40 well-written pages overnight.
73. I firmly believe my procrastination is a character flaw. Yet I can't seem to shake it.
74. I've worked in several bars and restaurants.
75. I am now beleaguered with server anxiety and guilt. And never leave a bad tip. Even when the service is atrocious.
76. I'm addicted to The Sims 2. I'm trying to quit.
    
77. I have a potty mouth and hate it. I'm totally trying to quit that too.
78. My biggest pet-peeve is when people say "addicting."
79. Isn't that pathetic?
80. The first physical thing I tend to notice about people is eyebrows. Mine are straight across, so perhaps that's why. My other BFF, Chris, has perfect eyebrows. She could be a Vulcan.
81. I really overuse the words so, like, and yeah.
82. My mom's family motto is "If we didn't make fun of you, you wouldn't think we loved you."
83. They all suck.
84. Okay, not all of them, but many.
85. I had a friend in college who said "Here's a 'jeez whiz' fact for you..." I thought she said "Cheez Whiz fact." Now I say that all the time. In mixed company. People think I'm crazy.
86. The Wiz is playing in Chicagoland this summer.
87. If you're ever in Chicago, it's got an awesome live theater scene. You really can't go wrong.
    
88. I love musical theater.
89. I think Jesus Christ, Superstar is unparalleled in its awfulness.
    
90. But I've seen and loved Les Miserables, RENT, The Lion King, Miss Saigon and The Producers.
91. I made the mistake of taking The Targo to see Miss Saigon. He hated it because it was "so unrealistic."
92. He also rooted for Benny in RENT.
93. He's got a good heart though.
94. I liked college, but not enough to do it again. The only thing I'd do over is go to a more demanding (undergrad) school and work harder. Oh, and pick a different major. Okay, I'd totally do it all over.
    
95. I'm totally a "grass is greener" person.
96. That bothers me more than the word "addicting."
97. Why does blogger think "addicting" is a word, but doesn't recognize "blog?"
98. I reference wikipedia a lot. But firmly believe it's not reliable.
99. It's just easier than looking elsewhere.
100. I'm apparently lazy too.
101. This was really a lot harder than I thought it would be.

I'm a Cheating Cheater

I cheated on my chiropractor. I KNOW. It's terrible.

So like, I've got this back issue. Which I've whined about mentioned too many times to count. God. Here's the thing, I thought I'd be all smart and take care if it in the non-American way, meaning SLOOOOOOW. I've been seeing my chiropractor for the past year and a half and there have been times when my back has felt blissfully better - like, rainbows and unicorns better. There have been other times, like the last three weeks, where it's felt like someone wearing a stiletto has been kicking me in the right shoulder blade every time I say the word "Like." Which I say a lot. Or worse? Every time I punctuate something improperly. Again, quite frequent.

So, I thought I could persevere. I'm pretty tough. Right? No, I'm not that tough. Today, I went to one of the best rehabilitation programs in the country and sought a second opinion. I had hoped thought that they would give me a quick fix: "Here you go! Five days of the most powerful steroid on the market! Have a great time!" Again, I am denied. The physiatrist and his resident made me take my shoes off, examined me, and totally did not offer me a lollipop. Essentially they said that I need six weeks of physical therapy and an occupational therapist to evaluate my work environment. You know, unless there's an ergonomics specialist at my company! Bwahahahaahahaha *snort* hahahaha. Hooo-boy... I'm crying. Yeah.

That's where I'm at. I guess this same-old-same-old is better than something very bad. It's just frustrating. And maybe? I'm a big baby.