The other day we observed what we believe to be Piper’s birthday. She’s four years old now, so to celebrate we gave her a new squeaky Kong. She spent all day with that Kong, and miraculously the squeaker was still functioning at the end of the day. So when hubby was trying to take a quick nap before driving the kiddos to Grandma’s house, she was making quite the racket outside in the hallway. I was across the hall working on laundry so I took the ball from her and placed it on top of the dryer. When I was done in the laundry room I took the ball and brought it downstairs before giving it back to her.
Fast forward a few days… now every time I walk upstairs, she leads me right back to the laundry room. To beg for a ball that isn’t there (pictured left). I think she must believe that’s where we are hiding them now (we buy a bunch at a time and keep them in our bedroom closet). Either that or she thinks the washer magically produces squeaky Kong balls. Wouldn’t that be a dog’s dream come true?
I honestly don’t know when I became a dog person, but there’s no doubt it happened. I suppose I can live with that.
The kids kept telling me that Piper needs a bath, so we made that happen! Since it was super hot out, and Mike already had the hose out, we thought it would be a good idea to just hose her down in the backyard. She wasn’t sure at first what was happening but she settled into it fairly quickly. I don’t know if you can tell in this photo, but she’s smiling big. With a ball in her mouth.
Still fighting back that depression. I’m better though. I’m not sleeping excessively. I take naps when I need them, but I think about it first when the urge comes. Does my body need rest or am I just trying to escape a dark feeling? If I determine I’m just wanting to sleep to escape, I go the other way. I pick from my list of “pick-me-ups” and go from there. Drink water. Have a snack. Get dressed. Wash my face. Text my mom. These things help to serve as a way to sort of reset and redirect. And it’s working. Every day I’m standing a little taller and am feeling a bit lighter.
My brother and sister and I went out a week or so ago to celebrate my birthday. It’s a tradition we used to have, where we all met for the other’s birthday. The birthday guest picks the restaurant, the other two pay the bill. We had let the tradition slide for many years but we recently decided to pick it up again. We went out for drinks after dinner and talked for hours. It was wonderful. The three of us share a pretty special bond because our parents divorced when we were very young. Through all the changes that situation involved, the three of us were the constant. We always had each other. And I am so thankful that’s still true.
While out for drinks with my siblings we talked about running. They are both avid runners, having run 5ks to marathons, ultra-marathons, Ragnars, you name it. And I admire them both, and look to them for encouragement and inspiration. I want to be a runner. I don’t love running the way they do, but I love the satisfaction that comes at the end of a good run. I love that I am able to run. I find it worth doing. I say all that, but I had not been running regularly since I sprained my ankle just after Christmas. My ankle is fine now, so I don’t know what I have been waiting for. However, today I managed to get myself on the treadmill. I walked/jogged for 40 minutes. My body hated it, of course, having had a solid three months to loaf around. But I continued moving until I reached my goal time. See, I want to work up my endurance so that I can run a 10k race this fall with my brother and sister. I am not sure if my body will let me do it, but I’m gonna put it to the test anyway. I’m going to keep working up my endurance as far as I can go. Let my body tell me I can’t do it. When I think about actually running a 10k I don’t really feel up to the challenge, but I’m taking it in steps. After all, there was a time not long ago when I thought I would never run, period. Today I moved for 40 minutes. By next week maybe I will be able to do 50, and maybe next month I’ll be able to run for 90. We shall see.
I do expect and hope that getting back to regular exercise will help finish off this depression once and for all. I know it should help my pants to fit a little better, and how can that not make me happy, right??
I like taking pictures of my food but sometimes I am so excited to eat, I forget. So here is the aftermath of my lunch today, roasted asparagus with a garlic vegan cream sauce. Made all by myself and it was delicious!! I don’t even like asparagus, really, but you throw on a the right topping and I’m good to go. I found the recipe for the sauce on Pinterest and it looked easy enough to manage so I gave it a shot. I’m so glad it turned out I’ll probably make it again tomorrow.
I’ve been doing more of this, taking risks with food, trying new things, and it’s been kind of fun. I still wouldn’t say I enjoy cooking as a whole, but I’ve discovered one thing I do love making: Soup! With soup you can throw things in and it doesn’t matter how it looks. Timing isn’t super important so there’s no rushing involved. It’s very relaxing, and when you’re done, you have a warm and comforting meal to either share with loved ones (if they’ll touch it) or to supply your lunches for the next week!
Now to find some dessert…
Our dog Piper loves loves loves to meet new people. She’s what I call “aggressively friendly”. When anyone comes to the door, she’s right there yapping and jumping like the crazy dog she is.
Today the UPS driver came to pick up a package we were returning to Amazon, so I had to wiggle through the front door to give him the box. The entire time Piper was jumping at the glass door, just begging to join us. The driver was laughing at her antics and when we were done with our exchange he reached into his pocket and pulled out a dog biscuit! I was so surprised, and I told him thank you. I said she’s really harmless and she’s never bitten anyone, but that the FedEx driver was so scared of her he won’t even come up our driveway.
He said nothing, because maybe he didn’t want to bash the competition, but he gave me a smirky smile that told me he thought that was pretty funny.
I tried to get a picture of her with the biscuit but she scarfed it down too quickly.
Did I really just go an entire month without even thinking about blogging? So much has happened, I don’t even know how to update you properly.
I’ll say I do believe the unplanned hiatus was a result of the medication I’m now on for anxiety. It starting working right away, but I discovered it was actually working a little too well. I went from being anxious about every possible thing, to not caring about much at all. Even the important stuff. So a few days ago I started taking half a dose, and that seems to be working out well. I’m caring again but I’m not having panic attacks, and that makes me very happy. I’m praying that I’ve found the right balance and look forward to moving on with my life.
My daughter turned 8 a couple weeks ago. My precious baby girl is 8. She’s growing up too fast for me. I just need her to slow down. She is currently obsessed with unicorns and animal print – two things I have zero interest in or experience with, so I’m sort of watching her from afar, in awe of her sense of self and unashamed quirkiness. I know she’ll look back on these days and wonder what she could have been thinking and ask me why I didn’t forbid her from making these disastrous fashion choices, and I cannot wait for that day. I was her age during the 80’s, so I have plenty of those groan-worthy memories to look back on.
We threw a party to celebrate right here at the house, with a handful of Natalie’s friends from school and the neighborhood, both old and new. The girls gave themselves Jamberry manicures and ate unicorn cake and rainbow sherbet. Then at the end we had time leftover so the girls put together a fairly rowdy game of Simon Says. It was really something to be on the outside, seeing her in her element and enjoying spending time with her friends. She just seemed so grown up, so “Eight.” It’s one of those days I hope I never forget.
In other news, I went to a new audiologist today to update the programming of my cochlear implants. While the audiologist I had been seeing was nice and all, we never felt like she really knew much about the technology for my implants. I think she probably dealt more with hearing aids. With my last programming, my husband was positive that it was a big change in the wrong direction, and that I ought to find a new audiologist. Well, I finally did and it certainly paid off. The office only services people with cochlear implants, so that is their specialty. We knew as soon as we walked in that we were in the right place. The visit took a solid two hours but it was thorough and I left feeling a ton more confident about my hearing level and speech recognition. Exhausted, but confident. I’m looking forward to the days ahead, for every opportunity to hear all the typical sounds in a new way with this new and improved programming. Technology truly is a wonderful thing.
The nurse put my iv in my right hand, right above my super rad Wonder Woman bracelet my mom made for me, so I couldn’t resist taking a photo. Because when I think about fighting like a girl, I think about this constant fight for my health against MS, and so it just seemed appropriate.
Courage, bravery, stubborn determination. That’s how I fight this. How do you fight?