The Texas Mama

Loralee of Looney Tunes and I have collaborated to bring you…. The Sexy Sixth.  On the sixth of every month, we will be bringing to you something that we avoid for the most part.  We will be posting about sexually related…uh… stuff.  Not necessarily sex per say, but things of a sexual nature.  Ohhh SO taboo, I know!  I have basically avoided posting anything too sexy in the past, as do many bloggers out there.  I don’t intend to get pornographic on you, but I will be candid, and I will venture into uncharted territory (for me) and I can Promise that Loralee will be laying it out for you. 

This is not just my chance to come out of my shell a little and blog about sex, it’s anyone’s chance.  If you are reading this and you blog, or know someone who does or would like to start blogging, HERE IS YOUR CHANCE! Come on out of your sexless shell a little and join us every month for The Sexy Sixth.  We all do it! Lets talk about it, just for one day a month!  Lets be BAAAD. 

By blogging about sex on the sixth it doesn’t really count, you see.  Its like eating two pieces of pizza at the same time, one on top of the other- your body doesn’t know the difference, right?!  You don’t have to broach the subject any other day.  Cut loose and blog about it with us!  Leave a comment that you are joining us on either blog, and I will post a link to your Sexy Sixth entry when I post my Sexy Sixth entry.  Lets share the linky luv! 

If you are related to me (hi Grandma! Yes, I know, how awesome is it that my grandma reads my blog?! I love her, she is the BEST!) or would like to believe that the storks bring the babies, you may want to avoid this blog on the 6th of every month.  You should be somewhat safe all the other days of the month.

*or you can e-mail me at: theidahostouts@yahoo.com
**just ignore the following, my blog is being a weirdo…Technorati Profile

I had this whole witty thing typed up that described all my makeup, just as Very Mom had in her meme, and Loralee (she’s Looney Tunes, over there in my blogroll) as well, and I’m sure many others. Then, the internet decided to just up and shut down, just as I was finishing up. So I WILL NOT re-type it all, but here is the pic of my makeup and bag. I am cheap, so most of it is CoverGirl or Wet’n'Wild or Maybelline or something of that nature.  I apologize for the blahness thereof, but I am PISSED at my computer right now… I am thinking of leaving it for another laptop, but for some reason I still love the ‘ol thing, so we may stay together a few more years- we need each other…
 
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As you were forewarned, I am about to spill my guts (haha) about my weight and a major health issue that I have.  Just hold on while I take a deep breath, because this is not very easy for me.  It’s not easy, because in order to deal with it for so many years now, I have basically ignored it.  I can do a pretty decent job of forgetting about it- not letting my mind ponder over it for too long.  If I do, well, I just get depressed. 

But NO MORE!  I have called my doctor’s office and received a letter of referral to UTMB- University of Texas Medical Branch.  They offer programs for individuals who are in need of assistance to cover their medical costs.  The cost of surgery is waaaay up there.  I had Hali via emergency c-section, and that with a three day stay in the hospital was around ten thousand smackeroos.  Yep.  Luckily, because we were broke at the time, starting a new business, and I am unable to get medical coverage (which I will sooooo write about another time), I was able to get on medicaid.  But I am straying here.

I am hoping and praying for assistance to cover the cost of surgery.  I have a pituitary adenoma- a tumor on my pituitary gland.  Here’s a quick lesson in anatomy:  the pituitary tumor is located very close to the center of your brain.  If you were to run a line straight from between your eyes to the back of your head, and another from one temple to the other, where they bisect would be approximately where your pituitary gland is located.  The pituitary gland is often referred to as the “master gland” because it controls/effects so many of your hormones.  Thus, I am a moody, fat b%$#@!  Some of the time. 

This site has a great summary of what it is, what it does, what can be done, etc.  This tumor is a microadenoma, and is benign.  I first found out about it the beginning of 2002.  This was just months after finding out about another health problem, and right after I got married.  I will write about the other thing later, in fact I already have something in the works in the way of an article I am submitting to a few sites, because it is an important issue that needs addressing, especially now that there is a way to prevent it.  But I digress.  Again.

Things that clued my doctor and I in that I may need some blood work done were (and we are getting personal here): 

- I started lactating.  Odd, I know, because I wasn’t pregnant, nor had been.  But this is all part of what type of tumor I have.
- Missed periods.  Despite being on the pill, and taking pregnancy tests all the time to make sure I wasn’t pregnant, I still had not had a period in months.
- I was seriously moody and emotional.  At first I chalked it up to the pill, because I had heard of women who had been effected by it this way
- Weight gain.  This was and still is the tough one for me.  I was a very nicely built 135 weeks before I got married.  Soon after, I started packing it on.  Many just told me that it happens to lots of women when they get married.  Some said it was the freshman fifteen, because I had also just started my second semester of college.  My husband and I ate out a lot back then, so we weren’t eating very healthy. 

After some blood work and an MRI, it was confirmed that I had a pituitary tumor.  Next, was what to do.  Because I had no prior insurance (I was barely 19) we had to pay for everything.  The medicine, which was what my doctor recommended, was something like $580 for a 2 week supply.  For most people that aren’t oh, I don’t know, rolling in it- this is a huge amount of money.  For newly weds, well, you can imagine.  Well, I found out that the company that makes the medicine can help those who cannot afford it.  They were willing to pay for one weeks worth of it, every month.  So what about the other weeks?  So, I took the pills for a week.  They made me feel awful, but I figured it was better than nothing.  By this time, a year had passed. 

Wouldn’t you know it, the one week that I was on the medication and my hormones were in some kind of balance, I managed to get pregnant!  So now you know how I was able to conceive Hali.  Bet you don’t read about that on other blogs much!

Well, no more medication for me.  For the next nine months I grew a great big baby girl.  After I had her, I was still able to stay on medicaid for about 3 more months, until the pregnancy medicaid would end.  So I took a few more weeks worth of the medication.  After those three months, I started to look for some kind of program out there to help pay for the medication or for surgery.  Either we made too much (and yet, not enough or there wouldn’t be a problem) or because our tax situation was up in the air, and we couldn’t provide them with the past year’s taxes, they couldn’t do anything.  So here I am, basically.  Stuck in limbo.  I have very few options left.  The best is this whole UTMB thing.  Even if they are willing to take me on and finance part of the surgery or SOMETHING I will be THRILLED!  I CANNOT TAKE IT ANY MORE!  I have been in denial about it for long enough.  So everyone, please, please, PULEEEEZ pray for me that this will work out. 

Now, well, you saw my virtual model.  I am barely hanging on to this side of obesity.  A few more pounds, and I will officially be obese.  I really hate all the extra weight I am carrying around.  Unfortunately, when I was first diagnosed with the tumor, my doctor told me that weight gain was NOT an effect of the tumor.  Well, turns out it is- I got on the internet and found this out fairly quickly.  The problem was convincing my husband- he believed my doctor, as I did for a while.  You can imagine how I felt- I had no control over the weight I was gaining, and my husband just thought I was being lazy or eating too much.  It just wasn’t true- it wasn’t about what I was or wasn’t doing, it was/is the tumor. 

The whole being fat thing sucks.  It makes nearly everything more difficult or uncomfortable.  I feel embarrassed to run into old friends from school who knew me just five years ago when I was thin.  I feel embarrassed when Jeremy introduces me to someone he knows because I can’t help but think they must wonder what a good looking young guy like Jeremy is doing with someone as fat as me.  Surely he should be with some young thin hottie with a great rack.  “THAT’S ME!!!” I want to yell.  I was the young thin hottie with the great rack.  Well, the rack is still pretty dang great if I do say so myself.  I didn’t get to breast feed Hali, as another side effect of the tumor- I can’t produce any actual milk. So the boobs aren’t nearly as saggy as most women with “girls” as big as mine.  They, in addition to all the weight, make for a lot of back pain.

So the whole point of this long, rambling thing, is that all these problems are HOPEFULLY going to change soon.  I will definitely post when I know something for sure.  Oh, and not all the links are to me, some are actually really helpful, so check them out too!

I have all these thoughts and ideas running around in my head.  Running, running, ALL THE TIME!  It’s like I cannot get my head to shut up for just a few minutes or peace.  Every few weeks I go through this ” I better raise the bar” phase.  I decide that I should be better.  Better organized, more productive, a better mom, a better wife, a better ME.  I can’t fall asleep, because all these thoughts are crowding my head.  My brain just doesn’t want to shut down at night.  I have even gone out and bought a couple notebooks, and am already happily filling them up.  I have all these ideas of what I want to be, what I want to do.  Sure, some of them are impossible for a few years.  Some of them are just plain deluded.  But they’re goals.  We all need goals, right?

Unfortunately for me, I am a very impatient person.  Once I finally wise up and realize what it is that I want, I want it NOW!  I don’t want to wait.  Sure, I am willing to work hard and sacrifice (somewhat) for it, but I wanted it yesterday, even though yesterday I didn’t know that’s what I wanted.  I decided to do this blog and a website at the same time.  I stayed up until at least 2:00 in the morning every day for about two weeks, but I did it.  And then I changed it.  And then I changed it again.  Now, I may be changing it again soon. 

Life, especially life as a SAHM, is full of activities that just don’t require your whole brain.  For instance, here’s what we did today, so far.  It’s not too unusual of a day.

- cuddled in bed while waking up (it takes me a long time) and finished watching Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire for the billionth time

- ate breakfast and checked e-mails

- got dressed, brushed hair, all those type of things- I am a makeup girl, so the make up is on most days

- picked up quickly

- dropped off water bill

- went to Walmart, narrowly avoided being seen by this guy’s wife

- unloaded groceries in the nearly 100 degree humidity that is known as a Texas summer, trudging up the stairs with them, my purse, and Hali’s

- cleaned up new bottle of bath wash/bubble bath/shampoo that Hali spilt upon pulling it out of a bag

- cut up fruit for Hali and I to snack on while I made lunch

- talked to Jeremy on the phone

- made lunch

- paid bills

- put SpongeBob dvd on for Hali and sat in front of the computer

All of this is fairly routine for us.  Welcome to my life.  Not exciting.  But I am thankful for that, really.  Routine is great for our little family.  In fact, I hate it when things really upset our routine too much.  A little variant now and then- fine, but nothing big, please.  I hate to get all preachy on you, but I forget to think about how lucky I am that I have not just a roof over my head and plenty of food for my family, but things like freedom, the peace of not living in a war torn country (not that I am not totally freaked out that eventually the terrorist will get us somehow), and luxuries like air conditioning, refrigeration, a bazillion clothes, electronics, and all kinds of things we so take for granted.  Despite all this, I find myself wanting more.  Always wanting MORE.  It’s The American Way.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with vegetable dip, this is what it looks like ALL OVER YOUR FREAKIN CARPET!

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Not a good look, you say? Hali disagrees.  Apparently she thought it would both LOOK and SMELL smashing splattered all over the living room carpet.  I believe her technique involved coating her hand in it by sticking it well into the tub of dip, and then shaking and flinging her hand about in a swift downward motion. 

I wouldn’t know.  I was on the phone with my mom.  The cheap corded phone.  Needless to say, Jeremy picked up some carpet cleaner and a cordless phone on the way home from work.  I, in my never ending search for blog fodder, had the foresight and presence of mind to snap a few pictures with my bad camera (Jeremy took my good one to work with him).  So the pics are a little bit on the blurry, low quality side, but I think you get the idea. 

I really don’t know what to do about this one.  Vegetable dip is a savior to me.  Well, WAS a savior to me before this incident.  My darling daughter will eat carrots and broccoli- pretty much anything really, if she can dip it.  Now don’t get me wrong, she eats vegetables at dinner without dip, but with it I can get her to actually SNACK on veggies.  So now what?  Do I ban it?  I can’t do that!  So I think that she will be partaking of dip only under direct supervision of an adult thenceforth.

                                                         
   So now you know what I look like.  Except that’s not my face.  Or my body.  But I am pale and blond…

   Okay, so it’s just a virtual representation of me.  Kind of.  I found this cool site where you can type in your measurements and then it will give you a model of what your body approximately looks like.  It is supposed to be for helping you track weight loss and/or try on clothes online.  

   This is great and all, but… ya, there’s a big butt here (pun intended) it really isn’t accurate.  I mean it gives a good idea, and before you go all “you have a distorted body image” on me, let me just ask you to take a close look.  Do you see those hard earned stretch marks from pregnancy that virtually cover my body?  Do you see a shred of cottage cheese/ CELLULITE?!  Do you see any varicose veins?  Do you see the slackness in her jowl, breasts, butt, stomach, and arms?  

   I mean come on!  That chick up there looks much better!  Sure, she needs to lose a little weight, but she isn’t too disgusting looking in her underwear, right?  Wait, that’s supposed to be me!  My gut would be hanging OVER those tight black underwear.  Either that or my gut would be squished inside them, protruding as if I was trying to hide a spare tire in them.  My huge, friendly arms (they wave back) are larger than that.  And my thighs are sooo fatter than that. 

   So you may be asking yourself why I don’t get off my butt and DO something about my size.  Well, that’s coming soon.  I will be sharing.  It will be A Serious Post, but it is time.

   

A few weeks ago, two more loved ones succumbed to a terrible disease.  This particular disease is quite serious- once you have it, there is no chance of recovery.  It disfigures you by changing your color.  No, I am not talking about Micheal Jackson.  I am talking about the two newest hand towels to be added to my collection. 



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My dear husband thought he would be helpful one weekend and help me out with the laundry.  I know- most husbands wouldn’t even think of it.  He has his moments.  Unfortunately what started off as a good deed turned sour.  When he put in a load of rags, washcloths, hand  towels, and towels he thought they smelt (and I quote) “bad and mildewy or moldy or something”.  So he added a little bleach, thinking that would solve the problem.  Well, a couple hours later, when they were washed and dried, I went to pull them out of the dryer.  Imagine my horror and sense of loss when I removed two orangish towels. 

These towels used to be the color that you can see dominantly on the towel on the left.  A really nice kind of tan/antique/camel/taupe color that matched my shower curtain and other towels for the master bathroom.  Alas, I don’t have anything that coordinates with them now.  So they join the other towels that are awaiting there fate in Jeremy’s new shop, which should be up in a few weeks by the way! The cement is poured, and they were going to start building today, but it rained earlier today, so I am sure that delayed them.

Hali and I set to making our “pigs” beautiful a couple weekends ago, and the hubs came in.  He really must miss painting cars, because he took one look at our pink polish with pearl and wanted his done to.  He agreed to a photograph and I have obtained his permission to post said pic here:


                                          

This is sooo HOT! I mean who doesn’t want to see hairy toes with polish on them? Exactly.  My husband has allowed me to paint his toes twice.  The other time was when I was pregnant and I wanted him to paint mine.  He sucked at it.  He has painted tons of cars.  That is what he has done for a living for several years. 

But paint my toes, he could not.  Or would not.  So we compromised by letting me paint his.  Last time it was in the winter, so no one saw it.  This time around, it was July.  He wore flip flops over to a buddy’s shop and forgot to take the polish off.   It was great.  He splashed some reducer on his toes and took care of it, but not before a little embarrassment.  Too bad we stopped there first instead of getting his hair cut…

   I have posted about this language before- the tongue I have termed Halitalk.  This language is made up of several components: clearly understandable (even to a non-toddler raising stranger) english words, partially understandable (if you really consentrate and squint your face just so while listening closely) english words, ??? words (there is no interpreter available to tell us what these sounds mean, as no one actually knows the language either) that may or may not be english, the occasional spanish word (which really keeps me on my toes, as I often really have to think for a minute to realize what it is that word means), screams, grunts, squeels, hand motions (not american sign language- again, no interpreter)

   I am the most reliable interpreter of this language, but alas- sometimes my skills are lacking and I just have to shake my head and tell Jeremy “I have NO idea”.  Jeremy could be a more proficient interpreter if he wanted to, but he finds it easier to ask me rather than hurt his poor little brain thinking about it for a few seconds.  

   My new favorite Halitalk phrases is “make a hug”.  When she wants a hug or knows that Mom or Dad want a hug, she says “make a hug?” and then puts her arms around your neck.  I mean, I hate to exceedingly brag here (ok, not really- I love to brag it up) but how cute is that?  

   She thinks that her Dora the Explorer vitamins are candy.  She loves them. I love that she loves them.  It’s win-win.  Most doctors say that toddlers should be getting their nutrients/vitamins/minerals/whatever from food and should not need vitamins, but I like to just make sure she is getting what she needs.  She is a big fruit lover (yes, I realize what that sounds like) and loves her milk.  She doesn’t shy away from veggies, either.  Yes, I am lucky- for the time being that is… but she does do that picky thing most kids do, where she won’t eat forever, and then when she does it is something odd.  Occasionaly. So do I.  Gee, and I wonder where she picks up her habits.  I have tried to blame all the bad ones on Jeremy, but I know they aren’t ALL him- just like you know, 99% of them… *cough* ya, that’s it!