tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53288113930220807982024-03-06T00:33:20.407-06:00I Want a Dumpster BabyKitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.comBlogger135125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-87563663883338709442013-03-14T10:52:00.002-05:002013-03-14T10:52:19.437-05:00I've Moved!Hey you guys! I've moved the home of IWADB over to <a href="http://www.chicagonow.com/i-want-a-dumpster-baby" target="_blank">Chicago Now</a>, which is super exciting! <br />
<br />
The same deal there as over here. I say what I want, when I want, how I want. Please come see me!<br />
<br />
This site will remain up and active, so everybody can see past posts, as they are pretty great too.<br />
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Thanks everybody!<br />
KatyKitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-91182147832104687092013-03-12T08:03:00.002-05:002013-03-12T08:03:16.845-05:00Do You "Woo"?I am not, by nature, a "<i>woo-er</i>". You see, in <b>THE HOUSE OF PAIN</b> (the stationary bike spinning class I take), we "<i>WOO</i>". Because our teacher is awesome and gets us freaking pumped up and we "<i>woo</i>". As I said, I am NOT, by nature, a "<i>woo-er</i>". <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNOXyfDprXSOny-avTeXfYnwr1Jj9S6YHYbcHl37usJy6AsATH3-mjn7lUESF14veLt2feZmIVvf-i5jxwlT7X-iuXTaVWUgIR1LNryOrDylwqCgX6RL4EjuQydxdzeIiLqvQdoCXgwM/s1600/Untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPNOXyfDprXSOny-avTeXfYnwr1Jj9S6YHYbcHl37usJy6AsATH3-mjn7lUESF14veLt2feZmIVvf-i5jxwlT7X-iuXTaVWUgIR1LNryOrDylwqCgX6RL4EjuQydxdzeIiLqvQdoCXgwM/s400/Untitled.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a picture from last year's <a href="https://secure2.convio.net/mskcc/site/SPageServer?JServSessionIdr004=09b4aqvhu2.app210b&pagename=cycle_for_survival" target="_blank">Cycle for Survival </a>event, but it's the only picture I have of me spinning, so, "<i>Woo</i>"!</td></tr>
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But last night, at the gym, I "<i>woo-ed</i>". I "<i>woo-ed</i>" loudly and I "<i>woo-ed</i>" softly; I "<i>woo-ed</i>" solo and I "<i>woo-ed</i>" with the group and I EVEN "<i>woo-ed</i>" on command, which is something I don't do - like - ever. DO SOMETHING I AM TOLD TO DO, ON COMMAND? Um, no. I am WAY TOO COOL for that shit. <br />
<br />
I first wrote about my gym experience a while ago <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2011/09/you-are-going-wrong-way.html" target="_blank">here </a>- please take a minute to read, it's quick and funny and gives background to where we are today.<br />
<br />
Now, I am not a person who loves exercise. I hate it. If left to my own devices I will pick couch time over physical exertion every damn time. Just like drinking and smoking are in my nature, sloth is in my nature as well. By all accounts, I SHOULD be drinking and smoking right now, BUT I AM NOT. Because we CAN change our behaviors if we work at it.<br />
<br />
Last night I didn't WANT to go to spinning necessarily, but I went. I pumped and fed babies before I left and strapped the girls in with my most powerful sports bra, and I jumped on the train and I left. AND I WAS SCARED. Because I am scared of everything. But I walk through the fear today. I haven't been spinning in months and months. I was pregnant you know, I am not sure if you heard. I kept up my gym membership the whole time because I KNEW I WOULD BE BACK. I wasn't spinning for a long time. And this HOUSE OF PAIN is a bitch. It ain't a leisurely bike ride round the park if you catch my drift. You are up and down and back and forth and killing yourself for 50 minutes in there and it HURTS. But dammit if I didn't do the whole class and do it hard even though my instructor said, "Katy just had twins so she's the only one exempt from jumping in and out of the saddle!".....I did it anyway. <br />
<br />
Because I'm stubborn and needed to prove to myself that I could do it after all this time. You see, a couple years ago, I weighed almost 200 pounds and lost a lot of weight through changing my diet and exercise. Spinning was a big part of that. I wanted to get in shape BEFORE I got pregnant, if I ever were to be lucky enough to be pregnant, so that I could bounce back into shape after having a baby or two. <br />
<br />
That's what I did. I now have about 15 pounds to lose before I'm back at pre-baby weight and spinning is going to help me get there. It's pure vanity but also health reasons that I do this. I am almost 40 and I JUST HAD TWINS. What in the sam hill was I thinking? Oh girl, I'm gonna be around to be with these babies and I'm going to be healthy. This clean living IS FOR SUCKERS. And I am a sucker for sure. A happy one. A by product of clean living is looking kinda hot. And yes, I want that. No lie. <br />
<br />
So, there are several things at play here. I just had babies and I feel a bit down about myself sometimes. What I would do if I live purely by what's in my nature, I would drink and smoke and not work and not take responsibility and self destruct because I don't like myself very much at that moment - not believing that the moment would pass. BUT, if I practice new behaviors and believe that the moment will pass, I take responsibility and work my program and eat right and resist that smoke and drink and exercise a bit, I get ALL THE THINGS! I get the life beyond my wildest dreams. I get the mental and emotional and physical bliss that comes with working hard to be healthy. We always say, it ain't easy, but it is so worth it. I don't want to do any of these healthy things by nature. I DO NOT WANT TO DO IT. But I do. Because it is the best thing for me and for my family.<br />
<br />
It was the first time in over a year, that I felt like my body <b>BELONGED TO ME</b>.
Not to science and not to babies and not to my demons. And if that sounds selfish, then
yes, I'm selfish. I needed that feeling. I desperately needed to feel
connected to my body and in that way to my soul as a woman who has her
own needs and wants and feelings without being attached to another
being.<br />
<br />
Today, I am a drunk who is not drinking, a smoker who is not smoking and a sloth-like creature who is practicing moving around more. It's that simple. One day at a time, we can change our behaviors. AND WE CAN BE AWESOME TODAY!<br />
<br />
Can I get a <u><i><b>WOO</b></i></u>!? <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">WOO!</span><br />
<br />
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<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-71106297730740930822013-03-07T08:41:00.003-06:002013-03-07T08:41:26.506-06:00Things I Love Thursday - Part 67<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I don't need to write a lot of words for what I love this Thursday. Hall & Oates being lazy, adorable, gifted,
slug-like babies doing their BABY CIRCUIT TRAINING every morning. It's
about the best thing ever. Now, couldn't we all do with more Tummy Time?<br />
I bet MOST of you can even lift your heads up and keep them up all day
on your own already. <br />
That's not asking too much, is it?</div>
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And, one and two and one and two, and WAKE UP BABIES!</div>
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These babies oughta pay me more (OR ANYTHING) for being their personal trainer. I pay good money at my gym for a workout like this. And the view isn't nearly as silly. Or lovely. Or gratitude inspiring.</div>
<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-5708706218370466202013-03-01T08:19:00.001-06:002013-03-01T08:41:03.716-06:00Choose HopeI often say I don't like people. That people are damaged and that
only animals are true and pure and without judgement or conditions. And
to a great extent I believe that. People have baggage. People are
damaged. I have baggage and am damaged. You know who doesn't?
Children. Children are pure and will soak up what you give them. And
that leads to who their parents are, who their family's are and what
situation they are in. That all determines who they will be as they
develop and grow. <br />
<br />
This is a post about Donna. <br />
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A child who I never met, but of so much inspiration and who's <a href="http://www.chicagonow.com/mary-tyler-mom/donnas-cancer-story-2/">story</a>
continues to inspire those of us who were so deeply moved by reading
it. Donna was diagnosed with a brain tumor in 2005 and fought for so
much of her young life before she passed away at age 4. Donna died of
Cancer. Donna DIED OF CANCER. Pause. <br />
<br />
Her mom is a
bit of a hero to me. A lot of a hero to me. She is brave and lovely
and had the courage and the talent to write this story and carry on a
legacy that has touched so many people. We are celebrating Donna and
her family here. And at the end of this post, you can help. <br />
<br />
I'm new at this mom thing, so I don't feel qualified to speak about them
most of the time, but I'm getting there more and more every day. However, in Donna's case and the case of her mother,
Sheila, who I have grown so fond of in such a short amount of time, I am
honored to be asked to post about her. Sheila is so much like me.
She's funny and smart and loves Mad Men, A LOT. She loves fashion and
dishing about awards shows and celebrities and hair and shoes and
typical womanly stuff. She's also very different from me. She has a
HAIR ARCHITECT. I find that HILARIOUS. But that's neither here nor
there. My point is, we are very different, and yet, we have become
quite fond of each other ONLINE and now in real life in the past couple
years. She likes me. She respects me. She values my being a recovering
alcoholic, even though she is not one. That right there is hopeful. <span style="font-family: inherit;">That is love and compassion and grace. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzNWSQv4LzB-X52REG77m2-kErMw3XtHQYumo2eYGwBM2WvN5tEKsQolV3Qp0n8BJg_4QhdUcR7jSXGB3Vx_ou5BiNP_3J196fK_DCYodIgoFYoIvutv9li8Mynz0XvGQ2FD94EZ4-qs/s1600/421271_324414380929634_236587319712341_828268_1257238828_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDzNWSQv4LzB-X52REG77m2-kErMw3XtHQYumo2eYGwBM2WvN5tEKsQolV3Qp0n8BJg_4QhdUcR7jSXGB3Vx_ou5BiNP_3J196fK_DCYodIgoFYoIvutv9li8Mynz0XvGQ2FD94EZ4-qs/s400/421271_324414380929634_236587319712341_828268_1257238828_n.jpg" width="298" yda="true" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did an event called <a href="https://secure2.convio.net/mskcc/site/SPageServer?pagename=cycle_for_survival">Cycle for Survival </a>last year. It's to raise money for rare cancers. <br />
I listed Donna as someone I rode for. I never even met her!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I want people like Sheila in my
life. You know how she got into my life? By sharing her story about
her incredibly beautiful daughter, Donna. Donna was life, and hope and
beauty. And her mother is just like her. Some say children are like
their parents, but my guess is Sheila would love it if we said she is
like Donna. </span><br />
<br />
Now, I cannot begin to imagine
what her life is like, what her heart is like after losing Donna. But I
do know she chooses hope. Every day, she chooses hope. And that, is a
woman after my own heart. My heart is in my throat just writing
about this here. After I read <a href="http://www.chicagonow.com/mary-tyler-mom/donnas-cancer-story-2/">Donna's Cancer Story</a>,
I was changed. My heart grew for this little girl who did not ask for
this by any wrong doing on her part. Little children do not deserve
this awful disease or to die. Donna and her family made me want to do
better, to BE better. Above all, to CHOOSE HOPE. After reading all the
posts and many of the comments from fellow readers, something strange
happened. I found a little faith in humanity. To be honest, I found a
lot of faith in humanity. <br />
<br />
Sure, who could be FOR a
child having a terrible disease and dying? And yes, it's incredibly
sad, but damn, it lifts you up. READ IT. For you saying, I can't bear
it, it's too sad, READ IT. I promise you will be changed. For those of
us who have known hopelessness, who have been in so much pain and
darkness and think we can never ever get out, CHOOSING HOPE is what can
help us. The teeniest tiniest bit of hope can be a spark to feeling
human again. To be able to put one foot in front of the other and pull
ourselves out of the greatest despair anyone has ever known. I know
about choosing hope, Donna's mom and dad know about choosing hope, and a
whole hell of a lot of you KNOW about CHOOSING HOPE. I have heard
it. I have heard from so many of you who have struggled with your own
shit and have fought so hard and so long to feel human again. We all
know this pain and what choosing hope can mean. <br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Facts and Stats:<br />
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">
<ul>
<li style="margin-left: 15px;">More US children will die from cancer than any other disease, or many other diseases combined;</li>
<li style="margin-left: 15px;">Before the age of 20, 1 in 300 boys and 1 in 333 girls will be diagnosed with cancer;</li>
<li style="margin-left: 15px;">worldwide, a child is diagnosed ever three minutes;</li>
<li style="margin-left: 15px;">the
cure rate for the most common form of pediatric cancer, ALL leukemia,
is as high as 90%, but most other childhood cancers do not have that
success rate, e.g., brain tumors have a 50/50 cure rate, and some, like
DIPG, are known to be fatal with no known treatment or cure;</li>
<li style="margin-left: 15px;">73% of kids who survive their cancer will
have chronic health problems as a result of their treatment and 42% will
suffer severe or life-threatening conditions like secondary cancers. </li>
</ul>
<div>
All of these stats can be found on the <a href="http://www.stbaldricks.org/about-childhood-cancer" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">St. Baldrick's website here</a>. Information regarding why childhood cancer is so poorly funded can be <a href="http://www.stbaldricks.org/filling-the-funding-gap" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">found here</a>. </div>
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<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 12.499999046325684px;">
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The Childhood Cancer Ripple Effect - </div>
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The purpose of the Donna Day campaign is to raise $ for our head shaving
event on Saturday, March 30 in Chicago. It is our second event. Last
year's started with a goal of $20K and we raised $79K! This year we
have many fewer heads to shave and have set a goal of $30K. Our oldest
shavee is 89 years old and she is doing it with her daughter, a
returning shavee for us. WOW! Here is the <a href="http://www.stbaldricks.org/events/mypage/6969/2013" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">link to Donna's Team Page</a> and I encourage you to donate to this team or any other team by using the GREEN donate
button. Any amount will be awesome. Seriously. Many people chipping
in $5 and $10 makes a HUGE difference. If folks want to shave their
head, that is so cool, too, and there is still time! Folks can raise a
lot of $ in 30 days! </div>
<br />
How can YOU help Conquer Kids’ Cancer?<br />
<br />
1. Donate Now to fund lifesaving research.<br />
<br />
2. Sign up as a Shavee or Volunteer at an Event Near You. <a href="http://www.stbaldricks.org/">http://www.stbaldricks.org/</a>
(Once you find an event, click on the blue box that says ‘participate
at this event’. If you want to join the Donna’s Good Things team, when
prompted say you want to join an existing team, and filter for “Donna”
at other events).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0TZOeVCi0n3mPfvquFNoX-PFxtZLX0Bo4Dp5q-m6l1fimjd_u92FT7KAA3VTyOAE0m0t2TKwsoLUkvKzEkJ9WzQ1TS301mRa42w-iiCy4gtnbHKsuPw6eTFDelN9h-94IevRkWi0oEk/s1600/DGT_BlueRed.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" sda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju0TZOeVCi0n3mPfvquFNoX-PFxtZLX0Bo4Dp5q-m6l1fimjd_u92FT7KAA3VTyOAE0m0t2TKwsoLUkvKzEkJ9WzQ1TS301mRa42w-iiCy4gtnbHKsuPw6eTFDelN9h-94IevRkWi0oEk/s400/DGT_BlueRed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.donnasgoodthings.org/">http://www.donnasgoodthings.org/</a><br />
Donna's Good Things - so much good info over there from Donna's Mom and Dad. <br />
<br />
3. Can’t find an event near you? Organize your own event. The St. Baldrick’s Foundation will coach you every step of the way.<br />
<a href="http://www.stbaldricks.org/">http://www.stbaldricks.org/</a><br />
<br />
4. Have questions about getting involved? <br />
<a href="http://www.stbaldricks.org/events/mypage/6969/2013">Event page</a></blockquote>
<br />
THAT IS THE CHICAGO EVENT on March 30, 2013 ! I will be there for sure and I cannot wait! <br />
<br />
Thanks
everyone for reading and for opening your hearts. Finding faith in
humanity is not easy to come by. At least not for me. But here and
now and with this story, I hope you've found a little more. I know I
have. <br />
<br />
I choose hope. I am betting you do too. Please give something if you can in any way you can.Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-89778748806204049642013-02-28T09:56:00.000-06:002013-02-28T09:56:05.962-06:00Things I Love Thursday - Part 66What do I love today? A whole hell of a lot. But right now, here's what I got. THE INTERWEBS! <br />
<br />
The wwwwwww world wide wonderful web!<br />
<br />
It affords somebody like me who's stuck at home a lot of the time to have access to EVERYTHING! <br />
<br />
My mom didn't have it. My Grammie's didn't have it. We are really really really freaking lucky.<br />
<br />
THE GOOGLES!<br />
<br />
I use the internecks for good, like doing searches like this -<br />
<ol>
<li>Why is my baby looking at me like that?</li>
<li>Who do I think I am?</li>
<li>What should I wear today?</li>
<li>Who is that one guy?</li>
<li>My nails are ugly. </li>
</ol>
You know, all the important shit. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqltaIqrnbP1aEaeFsrY1Hnvnj-0bkdMhMRJHaWMKiweuTFQo7OU73JxRwx-eETJoyiwHeLfMpVxhJr5wAkqlojVt-0L7jpPyLqLwelm_UIopvLIlf3oLZk_b2wuhgK7A8MswJEdcoN9U/s1600/Untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqltaIqrnbP1aEaeFsrY1Hnvnj-0bkdMhMRJHaWMKiweuTFQo7OU73JxRwx-eETJoyiwHeLfMpVxhJr5wAkqlojVt-0L7jpPyLqLwelm_UIopvLIlf3oLZk_b2wuhgK7A8MswJEdcoN9U/s400/Untitled.png" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Take it from me, you can't ever find any bad information on the internets.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But for real? This thing CONNECTS us all. It's so profound and I really truly believe it helps with the loneliness and the isolation that we talked about here - <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2013/02/secrets-can-be-funny-even-dark-ones.html" target="_blank">REMEMBER? </a><br />
<br />
Especially for someone like me who desperately NEEDS to connect with people, even when I don't want to. ESPECIALLY when I don't want to. That is when I need to connect more than ever, when my brain is telling me, "you're fine, you don't need anybody." There are AA chat rooms and meetings, there are mom's chat rooms and meetings - one in Chicago specifically for multiples, which is great. As long as I don't dive too far down the rabbit hole and can pull myself out and realize, hey! I AM A REAL PERSON! I need real live people too! And then drag myself out of the hole and get out and connect with other real live people. EVEN ON THE PHONE. I would rather slice my eyeballs than talk to someone on the phone, but it's important. So I do it. When I have to. <br />
<br />
IT'S CRAZY OUT THERE ON THE WEB! There are a lot of crazy people and BULL TO THE SHIT out there and if you're not careful, you can believe some of the shit that they put out there. REEL IT BACK IN PEOPLE. It's called balance, and for me, it's essential. It's not ingrained - all or nothing is more my style. But if I put for the effort, I can maintain an online thing and a real life thing that keeps me sane and happy and grateful. <br />
<br />
I'm grateful for this computer and the electricity it needs to power up and to Al Gore (hay Al, call me!) for inventing the internet. I am grateful for the job that I have that affords me to pay for all this shit. This is all really truly profound shit that when I stop to think about it MAKES MY HAIR HURT. <br />
<br />
SERIOUSLY. The internet, when used for good and connecting and truly funny, inspiring shit is AMAZING. <br />
Let's all use it for good and not for evil, shall we?<br />
<br />
*goes off to google when I can make with beans and soy sauce and potatoes because that's all I have in my kitchen* <br />
<br />
<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-21977121596964519792013-02-24T09:08:00.001-06:002017-12-11T13:19:13.584-06:00Respect Your Sally BoySitting here at the computer I wait without knowing I'm waiting for a sound. A sound of jumping in the windowsill and then onto my lap - usually walking across the keyboard first. But today it's not coming.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx15LmJOOq9UZE944rvhnMNcoYyiwzRXlGeJhdlijioZ15gO_KUq2s6v0llHeBU5achkOCCCmQesyt2pcieOp4HqTVJBW59SOE8qbbd58_rJwz9qZUH9dO1Q3lGtNIhcxMLdOMesb1vXc/s1600/307359_10151447561444036_1105581531_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx15LmJOOq9UZE944rvhnMNcoYyiwzRXlGeJhdlijioZ15gO_KUq2s6v0llHeBU5achkOCCCmQesyt2pcieOp4HqTVJBW59SOE8qbbd58_rJwz9qZUH9dO1Q3lGtNIhcxMLdOMesb1vXc/s400/307359_10151447561444036_1105581531_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My little rescuer and best little friend I've ever had or ever will have.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Sally Boy is gone. He's gone over the Rainbow Bridge and he is not in any pain anymore. Friday morning we woke up and it seems he had a stroke or something on top of everything else that was going on health wise with him. He couldn't open his mouth. HE COULDN'T OPEN HIS LITTLE MOUTH. Not to drink, not to eat, not to lick and not even to meow. The right side of his face was so weighed down that he couldn't do it anymore.<br />
<br />
And so we knew. We knew without a doubt that if he cannot open his mouth, he cannot live. I made the appointment nobody ever wants to make for that evening and DH got home from work early to spend time with his best little friend. It was the longest saddest day ever. We were with him as he went and he went so peacefully, he just fell asleep and all the failings of his little body went away. He was so alive in spirit and yet his body failed him. It's not fair. IT IS NOT FAIR. He was still his sweet little self and didn't understand what was happening to him and WE COULDN'T EXPLAIN IT TO HIM. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXUVlPlGouyS9yp8Ay5v0fbfqMIhkEcBWLXq76n7FsNa-vHRv_X-R54P8E4jpSvQUWDh9HNxm7aPLCrI_T0-Uiu-bMeEek8rROmFPe5sH0Obn1ttgHqg9uJcJjNTuIyNHwg7RXMmoT3s/s1600/image.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWXUVlPlGouyS9yp8Ay5v0fbfqMIhkEcBWLXq76n7FsNa-vHRv_X-R54P8E4jpSvQUWDh9HNxm7aPLCrI_T0-Uiu-bMeEek8rROmFPe5sH0Obn1ttgHqg9uJcJjNTuIyNHwg7RXMmoT3s/s400/image.jpeg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sally Boy got this mug for DH a few years ago, it says, "Sally is my B.F.F." It's true.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgq2FE3JWOiWXUd2UylyvaJCTpanPBIYr3dP_Ly0IkUpnrltCzgdU_-hLDRxN4PJgz64awXSYUdt2FhIK_UZMCO9_LZfsvf1TWPhSMop0XDUQ6mpl5OI_NTGVLdPtPTsmLH6IGh-rDvqI/s1600/photo3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgq2FE3JWOiWXUd2UylyvaJCTpanPBIYr3dP_Ly0IkUpnrltCzgdU_-hLDRxN4PJgz64awXSYUdt2FhIK_UZMCO9_LZfsvf1TWPhSMop0XDUQ6mpl5OI_NTGVLdPtPTsmLH6IGh-rDvqI/s400/photo3.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Sally walked into my life in 2002 and that portion of our life was he and I and Eliza Jane Kitty, which was good.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ1YV1untYnggGVnSIyIZwxtZ5fruk9LORebtEUyUeQ_qf_x434vFwH9rSdZ-u6x6zEhLyqpo3YiGOLVy1Le7SEa24YOCaRWFmQaXvrzYVVFMZyYizCOAbLXIRpdm8HyeYr5aEvwZJ6Sk/s1600/191_7939029035_3291_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ1YV1untYnggGVnSIyIZwxtZ5fruk9LORebtEUyUeQ_qf_x434vFwH9rSdZ-u6x6zEhLyqpo3YiGOLVy1Le7SEa24YOCaRWFmQaXvrzYVVFMZyYizCOAbLXIRpdm8HyeYr5aEvwZJ6Sk/s400/191_7939029035_3291_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I push around a different type of stroller today, but Sally loved it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCH0OTPGeIq7IVybgprHzOLADTApNSRROxBILsHIKUqOC4L8mj8JgyLJpmX84OPcvLbl8l0UV5-aR78W4dj6AEC5IHaE-pVyPvvXDux5qtQIapxHSUZq7o7knKXLfPqWRzfwilqsnUjA/s1600/191_7939109035_6049_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCH0OTPGeIq7IVybgprHzOLADTApNSRROxBILsHIKUqOC4L8mj8JgyLJpmX84OPcvLbl8l0UV5-aR78W4dj6AEC5IHaE-pVyPvvXDux5qtQIapxHSUZq7o7knKXLfPqWRzfwilqsnUjA/s400/191_7939109035_6049_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Single gal living in the city with two cats and a cat stroller, see where my life was heading before DH? </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then we stormed into DH's life in 2007. DH didn't have to accept us with open arms and more so LOVE US ABSOLUTELY, but he did. He fell in love with these kitties. And that portion of our life was UNFUCKINGBELIEVABLE. And here we are today. And we have a life BEYOND OUR WILDEST DREAMS with two new babies who got to meet Sally and we have the pictures, so many pictures!<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBnXRXIrYkUwP_-nuQTgqVv-PqXEso5DA13RMevgG3HU9ljSX-zfGHjSnPaBU-VWkXrvbJW1twDyIHOUDdjNfBPpH1NsJIrkgYWcnHs74lVLU81gYvml5Me82xis5cAHdWEpQxdFMZsXU/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBnXRXIrYkUwP_-nuQTgqVv-PqXEso5DA13RMevgG3HU9ljSX-zfGHjSnPaBU-VWkXrvbJW1twDyIHOUDdjNfBPpH1NsJIrkgYWcnHs74lVLU81gYvml5Me82xis5cAHdWEpQxdFMZsXU/s640/photo.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I had the honor of spending the last few weeks Sally Boy as I'm home on maternity leave. He was sweet with the babies as we knew he would be. We only wish he could have stayed longer to share with them how amazing his huge spirit was. But we will tell Sally tales for the rest of our lives and possibly longer.<br />
<br />
We got to tell him everything he meant to us and love on him so much but it's never enough. He was a truly special cat. People who didn't like cats loved Sally. People were better for knowing him. And he picked me. All those years ago, HE PICKED ME to spend his life with. <a href="http://www.iwantadumpsterbabyfamily.com/2012/03/straight-from-sally-boys-big-mouth.html">Please read the whole story if you haven't yet, you'll be glad you did. </a><br />
<br />
Talk about feeling all the feelings...this sucks. This really sucks. I
know the hurt and the devastating pain we feel right now will pass and
fade, but Sally's memory never ever will. He rescued me when I needed rescuing most. He might think I rescued him, but it was truly the other way around. And I am such a better, sober person for having known him. <br />
<br />
<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-17055378547133498952013-02-20T09:20:00.001-06:002013-02-20T09:20:06.958-06:00Secrets Can be Funny - Even the Dark OnesThere are all these feelings. The <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2012/08/the-darkness-i-should-not-feel-let.html">DARK FEELINGS that nobody wants you to talk about</a>.<br />
<br />
I am fairly confident in saying that every new mom who stays home with newborns has these feelings. And multiply that by two, and you have this dark dark shit that you feel guilty about feeling. GUESS WHAT? I'm talking about it. I'm alone. This is about the loneliest I've ever felt, save for being a hopeless drunk. It's completely different, mind you, but it's lonely nonetheless. I'm on my own here during the day with two little beings, who while incredibly cute do nothing but SUCK THE LIFE OUT OF ME. Literally and metaphorically. My bewbies are drained and pumped so hard, they are pretty much indented. While yes, we are incredibly grateful for these two precious gifts, CHRIST ON A BICYCLE they are exhausting and soul sucking. <br />
<br />
They are also soul affirming when they smile or do something funny, like fartcrying - which is just what it sounds like. Fart-cry Fart-cry Fart-cry. It's HILARIOUS. You know, when a baby does it. Not adults so much. Have some pride. My dear sweet dumpster husband coined this term, HASHTAG FARTCRY (#fartcry). Let's make it rain on Twitter, y'all. <br />
<br />
There's a lot of crying in the Dumpster House lately. Babies and Mommy cry. Sometimes at the same time, sometimes separately while mommy is in the shower she cries. AND GUESS WHAT? That is perfectly ok! We all gotta get that shit out! <br />
<br />
I'm using online AA Meetings like they are a fucking life jacket right now. A LIFE JACKET. AA and meetings keep me sane. Keep me sober. Keep me connected. I need that now more than ever. I'm connected with other moms. Other multiple moms. And it helps. It really does, HOWEVER.......<br />
<br />
Sure you say, hey Katy, you are going out and having visitors and a wonderful family and support system and have a fantastic completely wonderful husband, so doesn't that help with the loneliness? Well, of COURSE it does. But you know what we drunks need? OTHER DRUNKS. I am saying all this here and I trust that you all will relate and not judge me. That is what I do with other drunks. They get it. They get the deep dark loneliness that we can feel sometimes. We are able to climb back out together if we acknowledge ALL THE FEELINGS.<br />
<br />
Finding people we connect with is critical. Drunks or not. People we trust and that will have our backs when we call crying or write a text that says something like, "HOLY SHIT THESE BABIES ARE BEING ASSHOLES TODAY" and not think you aren't so fucking grateful for them is CRITICAL. <br />
<br />
There are more feelings now than I've ever had in my life. And they are good and bad and don't have to define me or what I'm going through. It's simply admitting that they are there and getting them out in the open and dealing with them that lessen their power. I am NOT ALONE. You are not alone. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
These two don't have any secrets. Everything they feel is right out in the open. I'm kind of jealous.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUDeBR8SAO9QOmeC8MJKkc74UHu_WesazUIFeJBwp_zT7XUXrC1974Ka2GerE4LhyphenhyphenDTUvs63D93Dc_AAs8NfjOEgyOUJrOXAgJsDGbEIBuAe49liNIE3KYz5GyuQ0A5Dkb0jBlUUUU50/s640/blogger-image-394767595.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhUDeBR8SAO9QOmeC8MJKkc74UHu_WesazUIFeJBwp_zT7XUXrC1974Ka2GerE4LhyphenhyphenDTUvs63D93Dc_AAs8NfjOEgyOUJrOXAgJsDGbEIBuAe49liNIE3KYz5GyuQ0A5Dkb0jBlUUUU50/s640/blogger-image-394767595.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Don't
tell Mommy, but let's demand simultaneous feedings every time today!
That will make her lose her shit! No rest for the weary, and GO!"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Here's the thing. In the end, if we can laugh at ourselves and have people in our lives who we open up to that MAKE US LAUGH about all this, it can save us on a daily basis. It's all so minute, it's all so small, my world right now. It's babies. Every day, all day. AND THAT IS ISOLATING. I have to keep connected or I'm done for. This is the shit that keeps me sober and laughing and grateful every damn day. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Thank YOU for reading and sharing and helping me every damn day. I hope I'm doing the same for you. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com64tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-38647882156421086462013-02-14T06:53:00.001-06:002013-02-14T06:53:58.128-06:00Things I Love Thursday - Part 65<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">You better watch out because I'm gonna say fuck. </span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">WE WENT TO THE MOTHERFUCKING MALL, YO!</span></div>
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy403CYyrTGNdVfYe_Bs_zsVI_gh8JaHmmxeXbpt3TspfyrkSygELs6QwBggD3oqhCAuCgM8qFfhyBudphiHkk6D6g19MekBvHDGIMAqO2Z696A2c_hysaX4Hl5OK2rtCoJ40Cli9dF8E/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy403CYyrTGNdVfYe_Bs_zsVI_gh8JaHmmxeXbpt3TspfyrkSygELs6QwBggD3oqhCAuCgM8qFfhyBudphiHkk6D6g19MekBvHDGIMAqO2Z696A2c_hysaX4Hl5OK2rtCoJ40Cli9dF8E/s640/photo.JPG" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rollin' with the homies</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Thing I Love This Thursday is MALL WALKING. And yeah, yeah, yeah, we all know I love my dear sweet dumpster husband, but it's Valentines Day and I'm sure there will be a barrage of lovey dovey posts today, so I ain't doing it. <br />
<br />
So, yeah, we went to the mall like three proper bad asses. And this isn't any old mall, this is the mall in which I grew up skulking about. This is a mall I haven't frequented in years and years, BECAUSE IT'S IN THE SUBURBS, SON and I get nervous leaving the safety of the city limits these days. BUT this is a mall I bought Benetton sweaters in and Swatch watches and UNITS and stalked Contempo Casuals and got Annie's Pretzels in - <span style="font-size: x-small;">like</span> a late 80's/early 90's BOSS with big mothereffing hair, yo. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhyphenhyphenr2mJx0UxdXn46B9oU5UXGtuwxUoS86Uel2rzDdfhEXnKWEi5Rl2DI42s0AoM35GuxhyphenhyphensFTyJkPRMZUW4H2DSqE17BODqoJmFcfhwdtsk4h_DKsFhE7rsQNpSjJ-dlofLA0WYLbNlg/s1600/424648_332698733434532_756050507_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinhyphenhyphenr2mJx0UxdXn46B9oU5UXGtuwxUoS86Uel2rzDdfhEXnKWEi5Rl2DI42s0AoM35GuxhyphenhyphensFTyJkPRMZUW4H2DSqE17BODqoJmFcfhwdtsk4h_DKsFhE7rsQNpSjJ-dlofLA0WYLbNlg/s640/424648_332698733434532_756050507_n.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My high school Senior Picture Circa 1991. Home perm. Wings. Hoops. Double piercing in left ear that was done at a YOUTH GROUP CHURCH RETREAT LIKE A GANGSTA, Shoulder Pads. Shimmer lip gloss. Necklace with a heart and someone has the key. If only I could remember who that <span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">peg leg</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> jeaned</span> </span></span>stud was......</td></tr>
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Observations at the MOTHERFUCKING MALL, YO.<br />
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<li>There are a shit ton of mall walkers during a week day.</li>
<li>EVERYONE wants to talk to the lady with the twins. </li>
<li>People pay way too much money for some bullshit.</li>
<li>There are some real creepy dudes out there who really want to talk to a righteous MILF with babies. CREEPY CREEPS.</li>
<li> EVERYONE wants to talk to the lady with the twins. </li>
<li>There are a lot of moms and babies who all seem to KNOW EACH OTHER. </li>
<li>There are a lot of strollers and double strollers at this gangsta playground. -- <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGk_ithaCQeXVkcUiH6EbQrBVyy9Bn33lGvABgdbTfG9zAWQeBnFNBYrxvNHP-lTpOhz2MAIHxOal_laIvdlkcPglElXZsP8BIHSr84ukkbWUTcOpy9OqP-_n7x1EjYqQrBJP2vxKy-w/s1600/photo.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZGk_ithaCQeXVkcUiH6EbQrBVyy9Bn33lGvABgdbTfG9zAWQeBnFNBYrxvNHP-lTpOhz2MAIHxOal_laIvdlkcPglElXZsP8BIHSr84ukkbWUTcOpy9OqP-_n7x1EjYqQrBJP2vxKy-w/s640/photo.JPG" width="640" /></a></li>
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Which is why I just parked on the upper level with our double stroller and threw the babies overboard. I <i>think</i> they landed ok. I mean, Hall landed on a slide and Oates was just content to lay there like a starfish in the middle of the screaming mob of punk ass kids. SUBURBS. CHECK IT. Watch yourself, you could get a cap in yo' ass. I left them there for maybe 30 minutes while I went to Wet Seal and tried on pleather pants, yo. WAIT, you mean that's NOT a babysitting service in there? The parents are supposed to supervise their kids there? Shit. No wonder they were all giving me the stink eye when I gave them a tip on our way out. Oh well, live and learn.<br />
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We made it about 3 hours and then the meltdown started. First Hall and then Oates. We high tailed it to Nordstroms -- AND NO I DON'T WANT A SAMPLE OF STANKASS PERFUME I HAVE TWO WAILING BABES HERE -- because they have lovely ladies lounges. We lounged and fed and changed our nappies. Well, I didn't have to change mine at that point. But then we went and got a Valentine's card for our main man and got the heck out. One Starbucks, one pretzel and one card - $8. A few hours of lovely walking around with babies and other humans who were quite lovely except for a couple smartass remarks, PRICELESS. We will be back, mall. WE WILL BE BACK.<br />
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I leave you with this gem by my nerd crush, genius <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2012/03/things-i-love-thursday-part-29.html">Ben Folds</a> (that's the link to a post I did about him). It's all I could think about walking through the mall today. It was a good spazz dancing soundtrack for our walking like bad asses through the mall with heels and red lips.<br />
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And I smiled and smiled and every comment got a sincere "Thank you, yes, they are
twins, a boy and a girl. They are 5 weeks old and I am SO LUCKY."<br />
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<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-15568398382670158032013-02-10T07:45:00.004-06:002013-02-10T07:45:41.051-06:00Feeding Babies is My New Smoke BreakAs I was covered in bewbie milk and actually looking out a window and really pondering life for the 8th time that day, I had an epiphany.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7e6kqret6orZZkklcA15rWU2Fzh6-1ZkyPC__WlMa33W5KLN0Kn4hmpxJ1hfCVz4JnDmBoY37AtdYsUOmDdqv4Jwo4bTVBuW739IKrmRabQiF1rE_TQIc-b7c3ZMeEj-5Y_2-KEYET8/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7e6kqret6orZZkklcA15rWU2Fzh6-1ZkyPC__WlMa33W5KLN0Kn4hmpxJ1hfCVz4JnDmBoY37AtdYsUOmDdqv4Jwo4bTVBuW739IKrmRabQiF1rE_TQIc-b7c3ZMeEj-5Y_2-KEYET8/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I wish I could credit whoever made this card, it's brilliant. Thanks to Audra Jo for sending my way.</td></tr>
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FEEDING BABIES IS MY NEW SMOKE BREAK.<br />
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Also, it's been about a year since <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2012/07/its-been-hot-minute.html">I quit smokes (read about it here)</a>.<br />
and here - <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2012/01/journey-to-quit-town.html">Journey to Quit Town.</a><br />
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So, two epiphanies really.<br />
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Anyway, as I was feeding two babies at once and looking out the window and wondering WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, KATY, and yet, ISN'T THIS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL? It hit me. I used to run outside to smoke and have these "deep thoughts" all the time. <br />
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Here's how they are similar and how feeding babies has turned into my smoke break.<br />
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<li>I LOVE TO RUN AWAY. Smoke breaks were PERFECT for that escape. If I was getting uncomfortable or bored in a situation, I ran away to smoke. Now I can't do that anymore, but I CAN run away and blame it on babies needing to be fed. Perfect, right? Who's gonna argue with babies needing to be fed? A REAL JERK. That's who.</li>
<li>I always whipped out my bewbies while smoking. What? Don't everybody?</li>
<li>My body is occupied with some magical transformation and crud while feeding babies. Same as smoking. JUST THE FEEDING IS ACTUALLY NOURISHING ANOTHER HUMAN BEING. The smoking, while glorious, was depleting my human beingness.</li>
<li>Smoking cost a lot of money. Feeding babies costs nada. Zilch. Nothing. Well, it costs how much food I put in my gullet, so yeah, nevermind. I eat CONSTANTLY.</li>
<li>Smoking kept me thin. LIES!!! I was all over the board with smoking, so I don't buy that. I was super heavy and I was super thin. Not until the past couple years would I consider myself "healthy". Smoking didn't help me maintain my weight at all. Now, feeding babies on the other hand, MY GODS I EAT WHATEVER I WANT AND STILL LOSE WEIGHT. I'm only 10 pounds above my weight pre-pregnancy now and I haven't exercised at all (I hopefully get the ok from my doc about my c-section next week - HOORAY! Spinning classes here I come!). In the meantime, curling car seats with fat babies in them while running up and down stairs, I guess that counts as exercise. </li>
<li>There is this social thing that happens when you are a smoker. Those who smoke know what I am talking about. I could go outside to smoke, ANYWHERE, and find somebody smoking and even if we didn't say a word, WE KNEW. We knew we were feeding the need and getting a temporary reprieve from life and as that sweet sweet poison filled our lungs we were granted another short period of time where everything was manageable.</li>
<li>I was granted time by myself while smoking. So now, feeding babies, while they are TECHNICALLY SMALL LITTLE HUMANS, I am still by myself for that that time and it can become very meditative. I contemplate deep shit, you guys. Sometimes for real, and sometimes, just shit. Babies make you think about shit. </li>
<li>I MISS SMOKING. I miss it all the damn time. Have I mentioned that?</li>
<li>But I also firmly believe that even though it's not a mind altering drug like booze was for me, it really did limit my FEELING ALL THE FEELINGS. It made me numb in some ways, and I don't accept that for myself any more.</li>
<li>Babies will cry like crazy every 2 to three hours to be fed. JUST LIKE THE BEAST THAT IS NICOTINE.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNF_7Jtiph1Ykoye-7ssaVBuYNhxUMLPtZgghIuBLdaHtpLdCiZcK1tf2snNJFhEH7M-6yHBHHKSE2HIkxRjAei5lQLo8xVPW9UnFxGDOVPOl1uaufn16eMC1ObRWhbF10qF7Qve1lhOA/s640/308253_270167493020990_236587319712341_696385_892522480_n.jpg" width="478" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I still heart this photo with the smoke in my mouth. It's like my album cover from a period of time where I was wanting to quit so badly, and yet couldn't do it. YET. I was lost and wanting to be found. Today I am Found. Just for today.</td></tr>
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<br />I won't ever judge a smoker or a drinker, as you know I'm a friend to users. I am a user. I am a drunk who doesn't drink today and a smoker who doesn't smoke today. I can go back any time I want. Just for today, I choose not to. But those who do - RESPECT. Users are not weak. Users are strong. We have to fight demons that non-users don't. We are enemy number one. And it's deadly. We try to kill ourselves every day, and until we admit that to ourselves and knock that shit off, we keep getting closer and closer to actually doing it. <br /><br />If and when you want to quit I can't tell you what to do or how to do it. I can only tell you what I did, and it's not what works for everyone. ONE DAY AT A TIME. If you really want to drink or use or smoke tomorrow, you can. But just for today, I choose not to. I respect whatever and wherever you are on your journey. And let me just say once more, DAMN, I MISS IT. It doesn't just magically go away. You have to find something to fill the hole. I found AA. You find whatever you want to fill that void. When I am done feeding babies, I will have to keep filling the void with good stuff in order to not pick up again. And I will. Believe that.<br /><br />I miss the smoking most of all. I have no shame in admitting that. HOWEVER, The gratitude and the being present in this moment in this life is so much better. The payoff of life and being worthy of more life is so worth it. I believe in myself and I believe that YOU are so worth it.</li>
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Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-26422003053658551402013-02-05T09:16:00.003-06:002015-05-26T14:44:02.761-05:00Sally Boy and The Beast<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9bFPcqLtF7D0a6NoMWgGGDyrqGp9oeYKF1oLHEMl6cJOgEgUR87Tthxah_zPEh1hmvWwd5TkdhISbG3D9dT8jsmLLmzDl8feZCjFY21D0pSS4sgr03KVkWxlXvWigWzhKjAgr1bTU1zk/s1600/004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9bFPcqLtF7D0a6NoMWgGGDyrqGp9oeYKF1oLHEMl6cJOgEgUR87Tthxah_zPEh1hmvWwd5TkdhISbG3D9dT8jsmLLmzDl8feZCjFY21D0pSS4sgr03KVkWxlXvWigWzhKjAgr1bTU1zk/s640/004.jpg" width="484" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sally Boy Kitty and The Beast (aka Hall) and the mama without her face on.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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WELL WELL WELL. What have we here? It's time I tell y'all something that I've been dreading saying out loud to you, but that Dumpster Husband and I have been dealing with accepting for the past few months. We are losing our boy. We are losing our dear sweet Sally Boy Kitty.<br />
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If you don't know the whole story of this little guy and how he came into my life RIGHT WHEN I NEEDED HIM, please take a moment to read this - <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2012/03/straight-from-sally-boys-big-mouth.html">Straight from Sally Boy's Big Mouth</a>.<br />
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We were in denial for a long time when the vet told us how much weight he was losing a couple years ago and that his kidneys were in trouble. But then he got on some meds and gained some weight and seemed to be using his 19th life. But a few months ago, this eye thing stated happening. You can see it above in the picture with Hall riding him bareback.....he's got a winky eye. It's related somehow to the kidney thing and we are just doing our best to make sure he is ok and enjoying his life.<br />
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We can't be selfish anymore with him. We have to accept that he's been with us for a long time and given us such joy and for that we are so grateful. Now, we don't have any plans yet to do anything with him, but we are listening and watching so closely to what he is telling us. He's eating a ton and acting so much like himself with his quirks and zest for life that we keep seeing he's ok for a bit longer.<br />
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But when that goes away, and we know it will, we will need to do something (please see disclaimer at the end of this post). On my visits to <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2011/11/best-friends-march-2011-trip.html">Best Friends Animal Sanctuary</a> to volunteer, I attended a seminar on Cats and loss and when to say goodbye without holding on or making it worse for your beloved fur babies. It really changed the way I thought about all the stuff we could do to make them "feel better", when really, that's pretty selfish and more for the humans than for the fur babies a lot of the time, and it's often better to let them go with love.<br />
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We aren't there yet, but I wanted you all to know, because Sally Boy is kind of a big deal around these parts. And he should be. He helped me stay sober. He helped me be a better and more responsible person right when I needed him to. And now, he's being kind and learning about human babies and hopefully around long enough for them to learn about him. In the meantime, he gets lots of delicious wet food and treats and as much love and appreciation as we can give him for everything he's done for us. <br />
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DISCLAIMER - Please don't write me telling me what we should or shouldn't be doing with him as we feel confident we are doing the right thing by Sally Boy. Respect, yo. <br />
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<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com66tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-37204867200253745222013-02-01T11:25:00.002-06:002015-05-26T14:44:16.148-05:00Do These Car Seats Make My Hips Look Big?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Do these car seats make my hips look big? I'm pretty sure they do, right? Well, since babies and baby shit (no pun intended) are my newest accessory it seems fitting that my hips don't lie. CUE SHAKIRA. </div>
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I love dressing up. No secret or shock there. I love high heels. That's not a confession either. The babies are almost 4 weeks old and I've found a way to dress and get out of the house ALMOST every day. Or to have people over to give me some kind of break and adult conversation. It's vital. It's important to me that I feel and look good in some small way every day. It seems vain, but it's all part of doing better every day. If I'm not moving forward, I'm moving backward. Online AA meetings are vital and saving my ragged ass. What did young moms do without online meetings? They are on my gratitude list for sure these days.</div>
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My babies have red lipstick all over them some days. Don't call the DCFS, It's from me kissing them with red lips. Well, maybe on Hall it's actual red lipstick, but you know, just a little bit. I CAN'T STOP KISSING THEM!</div>
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I whine-cried to my dear sweet dumpster husband this morning as I was feeding and pumping at once and he was leaving for work, "I WISH I WAS GOING TO WORK." I cried a little longer and then it passed and I'm back to smiling and being grateful. Always being GRATEFUL even underneath the TIRED AND THE FRUSTRATED and the COW-LIKE feelings I have right now. But we laugh. And we laugh and we realize how lucky we are. FEELING ALL THE FEELINGS! You can't feel the highs without the lows. And it's OK to feel sad or frustrated as long as I keep in mind, THIS TOO SHALL PASS. And you know it always does.</div>
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Don't tell anyone, but some of my favorite moments are at 3am when DH gets up to feed one baby and I feed the other and we are half asleep but making each other laugh and encouraging each other and sometimes flying babies through the air because it is the ONLY THING THAT WILL MAKE HER STOP CRYING and we share these moments that only he and I will know for the rest of our lives. </div>
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The fact that I used to be up at 3am riding the CTA trains DRUNK OUT OF MY MIND, by myself, in a blackout and not remembering how I got to the south side or back to the place I wound up in the morning is not lost on me. How I made it out of those situations relatively unharmed and alive is reason enough for me to believe I'm supposed to be here. Out of my stupors, I got another chance for this MUNDANE LIFE BEYOND MY WILDEST DREAMS. I get to live in this warm place that has my name attached to it, with paychecks and benefits that I earn and share this HOME - not just a a crash pad, as was my existence for years - a HOME with my dear sweet dumpster husband who really loves me and my two sweet dumpster babies. I mean, what in the world could be better than all that?</div>
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Nothing. Nothing in the world could be better than this normal, every day, mundane, poopy and bewbie filled life I've gotten myself into right now. And that, is what gets me up every damn morning. I AM LIVING THE DREAM. It's covered in bewbie milk, as is EVERYTHING right now, but it is such sweet bewbie milk, I couldn't be more grateful. Even through tears. </div>
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<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-19891045920617053992013-01-24T08:15:00.003-06:002015-05-26T14:44:57.285-05:00Things I Love Thursday - Part 64There really is so much I love this Thursday and every Thursday that it's hard to narrow it down to one thing. But 64 times now, I have. And I feel like I can keep this going forever. Let's hope so!<br />
<br />
Today it's kind of random thoughts on this here blog and funny shit about babies. Cuz, you know, that is where I am right now in my life, and this blog is all about what's in my head and heart right at this moment.<br />
<span class="userContent"> </span><br />
<span class="userContent">I understand that reading my posts and my blog
may be difficult for those who are struggling with trying to have or
adopt a child. I am constantly aware of how this feels because I was
there too. I want you to know that I never take any of this for granted
and I know every second how very lucky we are. I do my own version of praying and sending love and light and hope and gratitude out to the universe for me and for you many many times a day. I hope with all my heart you find happiness and gratitude for where you are in life and for what you have. I get the most notes from people about sobriety and the struggle to get it and keep it, or for trying to create or add to your family. For those notes, I am so grateful, and I believe in you. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent">SOBRIETY and my journey to create a family are the two things I blog and talk about the most. It's what this blog is about and I am so grateful you take the time to share and read it. </span><br />
<br />
This is the status I posted yesterday on the Facebook Page -<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span class="userContent">"Good morning lovely capable dependable and
full of hope Divers! Did we all make it through yesterday? We did!
Today is another day to do better and be better. And to learn way more
about being a good mama. Sobriety and motherhood are what I was meant to
practice. And they go hand in hand. This is the best gig ever. Have a
great day, everybody! *blowing you kisses*"</span></blockquote>
<span class="userContent">This is so true and if you regularly read my blog you know I am so grateful to be sober and ONLY BECAUSE I AM SOBER do I get to be a mama and do I get to be gifted with these babies. And the fact that all of you share in this journey with me just makes it so much more fun and also makes me feel like I'm a part of something bigger and more profound than just sitting in our apartment every day with these two little ones and KEEPING THEM ALIVE. Oh my gods, HOW AM I KEEPING THEM ALIVE? </span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent">But more than that is the idea that every day, I WILL FAIL. I will fail at life, as I always have, as you always have, but the difference is today we can learn from it and hopefully not keep doing the same stupid shit over and over and over and expecting different results. This is becoming especially clear right now as I messily and sometimes desperately flail around trying to be a good mama to these two little squishy beings that are entirely in my dear sweet dumpster husband's and my care. HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO FEED TWO BABIES THAT ARE 17 DAYS OLD AT THE SAME TIME? Holy shite, will that humble your cocky arse but quick. </span><br />
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent">And man, DO I EVER FLAIL (think Kermit arms flailing about and that's kinda how I look several times a day right now). </span><br />
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/KlJM4UhbQ7A?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent"><br /></span>
<span class="userContent">Here are my immediate gripes: </span><br />
<ol>
<li><span class="userContent">These babies STILL cannot make a decent cup of coffee.</span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">They are so damn cute. I mean really, tone it down a bit. </span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">They don't know how to give me a proper manicure, and gods forbid, if I paint my nails myself, they inevitably cry and I mess up my nails trying to calm them down.</span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">They smell really really delicious. </span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">THEY ARE HUNGRY ALL THE DAMN TIME.</span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">I AM HUNGRY ALL THE DAMN TIME. </span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">They exhibit shoddy workmanship when I force them to put together all the furniture we keep getting from IKEA. Lazy, really. </span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">Bewbies.</span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">They are only 6 to 7 pounds and sometimes they absolutely terrify us way more than a huge hulking menacing terrifying awful bad bad man.</span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">They can't seem to focus on things I want them to really focus on. Like noticing and commenting on how cute I look today. I mean, I wore this dress for you, babies.</span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">OH MY GODS MY BEWBIES ARE SO FULL OF WHITE STUFF.</span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">These babies are pretty poopy. You understand. POOPY ALL THE TIME!</span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">I get to practice baby juggling with two babies and feeding both at once. This terrifies and excites me all at once. It's like the ultimate test of determination and hope at the same time. </span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">DID I MENTION MY BEWBIES?</span></li>
<li><span class="userContent">They really are a great way to lose weight. I've lost almost 40 pounds now of the 55 I gained while pregnant. Now if I can just get this c-section business to heal I can get back to spinning! WOOT WOOT! Stupid c-section. </span></li>
</ol>
<b><span class="userContent">I'll close with this. The Thing I really Love this Thursday is this - I love that we can joke about babies and bewbies and also sobriety - the serious yet very funny with perspective - stuff in life. It's really the only way we can get through all this stuff every day without crawling in the corner and going fetal like a - you guessed it - LIKE A BABY. Laughter is good. Not taking things so seriously is good. When I drank it was serious. I drank to escape the seriousness of life and my desperate unhappiness and hopelessness. There is no need for that today. Today we celebrate the funny and the awesome. For that, I am so grateful. That, and, babies are pretty squishy and I love that too. Flailing and squishy go quite well together. </span></b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gratuitous Hall & Oates and Sally Boy shot.</td></tr>
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<span class="userContent"> </span>Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-69199708443943087692013-01-18T12:48:00.000-06:002013-01-18T12:48:03.028-06:00There's Something Happening HereThere is something happening here. What it is ain't exactly clear.<br />
<br />
OK OK it is clear. Exactly clear. And it isn't war. It's love. It's hippy dippy trippy love for babies <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2011/11/second-chances.html">that a few years ago I didn't even know I wanted or needed</a>. It's fierce and it's growing every single minute. I know I'm not the first woman to ever experience this kind of love. Not only for babies but for my husband and my family and friends who are so very helpful and generous. <br />
<br />
It's this unexplainable overwhelming urge to catch my heart as it beats out of my chest when she locks eyes and smiles at me. Or when he reaches out his hands and grabs my chest with the force of a tidal wave but with tiny little hands that need me for everything right now.<br />
<br />
What did I do to be given this gift of life? Of lives? Not just for babies, but for me. I'm a second chancer and because I am sober and stay sober I get these gifts. I don't deserve them. Why do I get all this and so many don't? My heart breaks when I hear the stories of heartache that people go through and it ups my gratitude 8 million times over. I want to give everyone this gift of hope and love and light. I am asking myself all the time why I am living this life that is so beyond my wildest dreams I can't quite reconcile it. And yet, I am grabbing on with both hands and holding on so tight so that I don't fuck it up. <br />
<br />
If life were fair, I would be dead. But I'm not. And I'm doing my best to make sure this life is full. FULL OF LIFE AND LOVE AND AS MUCH HAPPINESS AS WE CAN STAND. Mixed in with heartache and disappointment and failure that makes the highs so much more sweet. <br />
<br />
I screw things up. It's what I've done in the past. It's what makes me a second chancer. It's what makes a lot of us second chancers. We were given an opportunity to do things over, better, smarter, with more hope and gusto than we ever thought we could muster. And I believe in us. I believe that we can do this without losing everything. Again. I did that once. And I'm hoping it was enough. I'm hoping if I practice gratitude as much as I can, I don't have to lose everything again. <br />
<br />
Sure, I will fail and make mistakes. I didn't know I wanted this life until I let go and fell completely for the man who is my heart. And now he and I get to share two teeny tiny hearts that are just starting out. I get a chance to do better and be better every day with these little lives. They make me better. <br />
<br />
Just like sobriety makes me better. You see a theme here? I stay sober and I get the chances. I get the opportunities I never thought I would have. I stay open to learning and loving and failure, and I get the life beyond my wildest dreams. <br />
<br />
This is not a new message. This is not something profound that I am experiencing that no one has ever experienced before. What is new is that it's happening to me. And it can happen for you. Maybe not in exactly the same way and you may not want any of this, but you are worthy of second chances. I'm full of hope today. And really, isn't it a great day to be alive? <br />
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Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-15724196753607701472013-01-14T13:36:00.000-06:002015-05-26T14:45:23.732-05:00HOW IS THERE SO MUCH MILK IN THERE?Well we did it. The delivery was way harder than we were thinking it would be (BIG SHOCK, HUGE) as I wasn't dilated at all and they had to put a FREAKING BALLOON MY HOOHA and 6 hours later I was kinda dilated. So we pushed. For THREE HOURS we pushed. And THEN the doctor said, this isn't happening and we are at risk here, so we need to do a C-section. We were bummed. And then I was so drugged up I was kind of hysterical and having a panic attack but then we heard the cry. The first cry from the boy came out (at 6.2 pounds) and then right afterwards the girl (at 5.3 pounds). And while I don't remember much from those first few hours - frankly I had the shakes that so vividly recalled detoxing and delirium tremens which TERRIFIED ME more than anything else - it was simultaneously the worst day and the best day of my life. <br />
<br />
The babies were born. And now we are all home after 4 days in the hospital. I am still in pain, but I am healing well and my dear sweet dumpster husband has been so much more than incredible I cannot put into words what the last week has truly been like.<br />
<br />
You know, I was the first woman to ever be pregnant and now I am the first woman to ever have a birth story and to fall in love with her babies. I know, I know. I'm very unique in that all these feelings are happening. I'm laughing and crying a lot. There are so many emotions. But you know what? I am FEELING ALL THE FEELINGS. And they aren't all pretty or rational - that's why they are FEELINGS - because feelings are not fact, but I'm so grateful to feel them ALL. Most of them are chock full o'love and gratitude. Some are overwhelming and scary. But that's the way this all goes.<br />
<br />
My scar hurts and bewbies are so sore, but what an amazing experience. These babies are letting us sleep quite a bit and actually they are into a routine already that is giving us ample time to just enjoy them and still get some other stuff done. Mostly though, we are just loving this time with them. <br />
<br />
Here are some random thoughts that need to be shared -<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>HOW IS THERE SO MUCH MILK IN THERE? You know what I'm talking about.</li>
<li>I have lost 30 pounds out of 55 that I gained. In one week. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE? Best diet ever. Just get knocked up with twins and give birth. KABLAMMO.</li>
<li>My maternity clothes are all packed up and in storage ready to be passed onto the next lady I know who gets to be fashionable and pregnant. Mostly I wore my regular clothes and we shall see how totally stretched out they got from MY HUGE BELLY.</li>
</ul>
I leave you with this gem from my dear sweet dumpster husband. I think the 2nd or 3rd night in the hospital (the babies and husband stay with the mama all the time in my room) at 2am or something, he says, "Parents of single babies? PUSSIES." Man, we needed that laugh at that time. <br />
<br />
Also, after all the nonsense of a day and half of ballooning and labor and c-sections, he says, "I've seen some things." And indeed he had. We both had. But we are so grateful to be here and with these babies. WE HAVE SEEN SOME SHIT. And we are excited to see a whole lot more.<br />
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Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com73tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-41222714982797598502013-01-08T14:09:00.001-06:002013-01-08T14:09:46.161-06:00They're Here!Hello Divers!!! So, this twins thing is a piece of cake so far. A piece of delicious life changing really difficult and full of wonder cake. All is well here. Just learning and loving every second of this. Xoxo <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEictaYNZpQcAZDZ-NkDMC14IK_Y4vqROBGl2fpyK1TMMCRQL1HHjpuV7-myg_hJ3J-4_tgUnHMd_468YsAgS-S3COQ0b2k4lfK9tFCpd4nkBe-3iYljZomf1bqhP0vM6gCLywBo4mwcC50/s640/blogger-image--1934072934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEictaYNZpQcAZDZ-NkDMC14IK_Y4vqROBGl2fpyK1TMMCRQL1HHjpuV7-myg_hJ3J-4_tgUnHMd_468YsAgS-S3COQ0b2k4lfK9tFCpd4nkBe-3iYljZomf1bqhP0vM6gCLywBo4mwcC50/s640/blogger-image--1934072934.jpg" /></a></div>Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com220tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-28878681371785276342013-01-03T10:13:00.001-06:002013-01-03T10:13:22.513-06:00Things I Love Thursday - Part 63Most of the conversations, well, a lot of the conversations in our place since I've been pregnant and well, long before that, have started out with me saying to my dear sweet dumpster husband, "your wife is an idiot." Then he patiently waits while I tell him why I am an idiot. Then he either laughs with me or tells me, "yeah, that's kind of an idiot thing to do or say", or he says, "it's OK, baby" and we move on from there to the next idiotic thing I do.<br />
<br />
This morning it was the ongoing battle with the washing of the baby bottles for the first time and then the putting them back together and OH MY GODS WHY DO THEY HAVE SO MANY GOTDAMNED PIECES?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">NONSENSE!</td></tr>
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I should have never taken them apart to begin with. That was my real downfall. I shoulda just sprayed them with Lysol as I said I would do and then run away cackling like a hyena at the silliness. <br />
<br />
So of COURSE this morning after they were all washed and laid out to dry with care, it took me approximately 25 minutes to put them all back together again. After much swearing and Sally Boy meowyelling at me asking what my freaking problem was, after I googled how to put them together because one set was missing all the lips, after putting new lips in my AMAZON CART but thankfully not hitting "purchase" yet, something in my teeny tiny brain clicked and I found the part I was missing tucked inside another part. <br />
<br />
So, a happy dance of epic proportion ensued and Sally Boy was kind of enjoying it, Eliza Jane Doolittle was looking on in disgust with how stoopid I am, and all was right with the world. <br />
<br />
BUT IT WASN'T. Not until I picked up the phone to tell my dear sweet dumpster husband what an idiot his wife is.<br />
<br />
And so I did what I do. And lately, with my voice being on the total fritz, I sound like a seal or a terrible barking dog with serious pain going on and yet, he still answers almost every time I call him to tell him my next idiotic escapade. <br />
<br />
Now, I am a big<a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2011/06/bring-back-bonnet.html"> bonnet head</a> and do you think that the Ingalls would have ever put up with this nonsense? NO. EMPHATICALLY NO. They were lucky if they had any milk to drink from bewbies or otherwise, and they didn't supplement with Charles giving a bottle of milk or any of that sissy business like we do today. So, I am going back to that time. I'm slamming on my bonnet, it will be fabulous of course, but bonnet it shall be and I will rock the heels under my prairie garments and not worry about the settings on the dishwasher or the washer and dryer and all these new fangled baby options with special detergent and all that NONSENSE! <br />
<br />
OK, so you know I'm kidding, but only slightly. There is a saying in the rooms of AA, "KISS" KEEP IT SIMPLE STUPID. For me, in every area of my life, it's imperative that I KEEP IT SIMPLE. Including babies. <br />
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I think the more nonsense we incorporate into our lives and into our baby's lives, the more difficult things get for all of us. So, I vow to do my best to keep them safe and in one piece, but that's the most I'm going to promise right now. My mom dropped me on my head, and I turned out JUST FINE. <br />
<br />
Ya know that bargain bleach at the store that is always on sale? Yeah, well, that's their bathwater. DISINFECT, BABY! KEEP IT SIMPLE, STUPID!<br />
<br />
I've got a dresser full of clean tiny adorable ridiculous clothes, some for boys and some for girls and some for who the hell cares - baby David Bowie or someone - but they are all these little "sacks" as DH calls them, and that's what these babies will be lucky to wear for a while. SACK EM' UP! But dammit they are so cute. So so tiny and cute and sweet and smell so darn good. And the onesies. I cry every time I hold up the newborn white onesie that is smaller than my hand almost. <br />
<br />
So, as I sat again last night watching the first season of Homeland with my dear sweet dumpster husband and not ONE but BOTH of these kiddos had hiccups at the same damn time, I marveled at the fact that I can keep this simple, stupid, even though it's about the most profound thing I will ever do to grow two humans in my belly at one time. <br />
<br />
The Thing I Love This Thursday is that we CAN choose to reel it back in and K.I.S.S. Really and truly, we can reel back in the crazy. Even if we have to keep doing it over and over and over and over as I do and will have to do the rest of my life. TOOLS to handle life on life's terms are something I never had until I started working a 12 step program. And man oh man, are my husband and my babies the better for that whole thing. <br />
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Sunday is eviction day, people. Hall & Oates shall meet the world. I will post here as soon as we are able and willing to put them out there. I know they are excited to meet you. Thanks so much for all the love and support!Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com49tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-23875850489996856102012-12-27T11:18:00.000-06:002015-05-26T14:46:13.838-05:00Things I Love Thursday - Part 62<span style="font-family: Arial;">Random Thoughts from a Diner on a Snowy Day in Chicago</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The Thing I Love this Thursday is BEING IN THE MOMENT. Or rather, trying my damnedest to be in the moment. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">TEENY TINY COFFEE CUP CHEERS TO YOU!</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I'm sitting in a greasy spoon diner and eating breakfast by myself, well, with you all really, but you get my drift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's snowing here in Chicago - WHICH IS MY FAVORITE, and I am approximately 11 days away from being induced to have these two babies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> M</span>y belly hardly fits behind the table and my belly button is so protruding that it is intimate with every object and person we come anywhere near these days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">The servers all want to hear all about the babies and then feel badly as I don't have a voice to talk. But they smile and coo and are so excited for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told my husband as we were walking around downtown the other day that people like to smile at me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He saw it too and started saying, "oh, she just smiled at you!" And it's true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am that pregnant lady that I would smile at before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">As I've tried so hard to be in the moment through this entire process, since getting sober really, but especially since we've gone through IVF and then being pregnant, I am in the moment today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being in the moment is difficult. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is something that takes practice and perseverance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And no whining - or getting over the whining RIGHT QUICK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I've done my share of whining the past couple weeks as I've been so sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The babes are sucking all my healing out and that's OK, I just want to be able to do my best for them when we go into labor.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">This is my one time to be pregnant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have special circumstances that I don't talk about here out of privacy, but this is it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as you well know, I am the first and only woman to ever BE pregnant, and I have really enjoyed the hell out of it. I've had such an easy pregnancy all things considered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe I'm just so grateful to be pregnant that I just have made the best of it this whole time, but this couple weeks of being sick has rocked me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find myself whining and crying and feeling badly and thinking, this just sucks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">It doesn't suck.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm still pregnant with super healthy Hall & Oates and they are not wanting to come out on their own, obviously, so we will induce at 38 weeks, which is roughly January 6, 2013.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHIT?</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here's looking at you kids. No make up or nothin'. Just braids and an owl hat. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">So, I feel like shit with my ears and my throat and my head swimming with this nasty virus, but I'm saying this to you as much as to me, IT SHALL PASS.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The person who has it the worst right now has got to be my dear sweet dumpster husband.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Man, is he a champion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He's stepped up to EVERYTHING and is also my biggest cheerleader and supporter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I've been negative and he's been positive the past couple weeks, which is kind of a role reversal for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But as usual, we balance each other out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I'm down, he's up and vice versa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I am so grateful for him and my life that it literally hurts my heart to think of how amazingly lucky I am.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm sitting in this diner in this amazing city I live in with a laptop thinking, "AM I A WRITER?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>WHO'S LIFE IS THIS?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>AM I REALLY PREGNANT?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>OH MY GODS THEY ARE COMING IN A MATTER OF DAYS! WHO WILL TAKE CARE OF THEM?"<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">See?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Random thoughts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when I really think about it, not so random at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is our life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We created it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We made it by our choices and what was thrown at us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What did we do with that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How did we handle it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What did we choose about our circumstances?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To accept and make the best of them or to complain and be a victim?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">These are the moments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are the thoughts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are the times that define our lives and Ferris Bueller had it right, if we don't slow down and look around every once in a while, we miss it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, I feel like shit. This is the only time that I will get to say, I am so super sick but it's OK, because I'm giving everything I have to my babies, who are healthy and we get to meet them so very soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I'm sure you're tired of my rambling, but this is where I am today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have two women at our apartment deep cleaning it right now before babies and my little mama come to stay with us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is such a luxury for me, it feels odd and entitled and yet, I am justifying it by saying, HEY I WORK HARD FOR MY MONEY AND IF I WANT TO SPEND SOME OF IT THIS WAY IT IS ALL GOOD.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am huge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am overwhelmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I'm giving my husband and myself a gift.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that's OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I was just telling a friend this morning that FEAR IS OK.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>YOU ARE STRONGER THAN THAT FEAR, I PROMISE YOU.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, if I can 't take my own advice, I'm just full of hot air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we all know I'm only full of babies and hope and love, no room for hot air. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif";">I am in this moment of being terrified and being grateful and being sick and being excited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am feeling ALL THE FEELINGS and man, does that ultimately feel good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not tamping it down with booze or even smokes these days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am feeling the shit out of this shit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it is good. Even when it's not. Know what I mean?</span></div>
<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-36434560150959684942012-12-18T11:34:00.001-06:002012-12-18T11:34:58.727-06:00Calling ALL Big Babies! Big Babies, Party of One, Please Report Here!GODS DAMMIT THIS SUCKS!<br />
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I've been sick since last Thursday, meaning, ears and throat mostly, like freaking GINZU KNIVES CUTTING CLEAN THROUGH RC CANS sick, and it will NOT GO AWAY. Add all that onto being 35 weeks preggo with twins, and you've got yourself a BIG HUGE BABY. Meaning, Moi. <br />
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I can't really take much in the way of meds as SURPRISE!!!! I'm pregnant. So, it's suffer like a big giant hero suffers or cut my own head off. <br />
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And believe me, the cutting my own head off is tempting.<br />
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I went to the ER yesterday as my nurse practitioner said to, in order to get some relief, probably antibiotics, as it hadn't gotten better for decades. I mean, days.<br />
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As I sat in the waiting room with all the really sickly sick dying and decaying and pathetic sounds and smells of an ER (and that was all just coming from me), I thought, JESUS CHRIST SUCK IT UP IT CANNOT BE THAT BAD.<br />
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And yet every time I swallow, I start crying. It is THAT BAD. But still, no fever, no strep (they confirmed it) and no flu, or anything else tangible they can put their fingers on.<br />
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And the worst part for someone like me, who loves to hear the sound of her own Chicago accent is I LOST MY FREAKING VOICE TWO DAYS AGO. So I can't talk. Period. I had to whisper everything at the ER and they all looked at me like I was nuts, even more so when I said in my loudest whisper yell, "ISN'T THERE ANYTHING YOU CAN DO FOR ME?"<br />
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And they sweetly smile and say, "no, you just have to wait this one out, you'll get better soon."<br />
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Well, let me tell you that screamwhispering "FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCKS" loses a bit of its menacing quality when screamed as a whisper. Not that I would know this. Or anything like that, I just happened to dream about it while I was in the ER for four hours yesterday where the only real thing they did was a throat culture. Misplaced anger anyone?<br />
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I even got all dramatic saying, "it's endangering my babies as I can't swallow and I've lost weight." and they said, "well, just make sure you hydrate and take your vitamins and drink Ensure and keep eating soft foods." <i><b>(see disclaimer at the end please)</b></i><br />
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I then got really desperate and threw myself on the floor grabbing at scrub pant legs and doctor coats with wild abandon screaming, "YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS IS THE WORST PAIN THAT ANYONE HAS EVER HAD TO ENDURE EVER!" To which they all replied, "name and birth date please?"<br />
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And so it goes. And I keep playing out this tape in my head, "Katy, listen you selfish immature big huge baby, there is REAL suffering going on in the world, GET OVER IT." But then I swallow and the tears come and it's onward with the same cycle. Plus, every time I try to sleep I cough so hard I think I see babies shooting across the room, and that is not helping.<br />
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Today, I am choosing to stop with the whining and choosing hope that this has GOT to get better. I want to be at my absolute best when I go into labor. Can I also just say that my Dear Sweet Dumpster Husband has been so incredible I cannot even begin to tell you. Cooking and cleaning and shopping and making sure I have what I need at all times? HE IS THE SUPER HERO. <br />
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And I've been offline for the bulk of the last week, due to the I'M DYING party of one nonsense, which it turns out was a good thing. So much sadness and heartache and devastation and then everybody putting their two cents in about the whole damn thing. I don't have to put my opinion out there. In a way, this sickness has helped me keep my big fucking mouth silent - really and truly - and that is a gift. See? We can turn anything into a bright side if we try hard enough.<br />
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I leave you with one of my favs, and one of yours too I'm sure. THIS TOO SHALL PASS. It always does. The good and the bad. <br />
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<b><i>DISCLAIMER before anybody gives me shit, the babies are absolutely fine. They were checked and rechecked and we go back again tomorrow. These babes are like royalty, I swear. This post is for the FUNNY. So please, if you are about to lecture me about shit, turn it inward, m'kay? thanksverymuch. And just the fact that I wanted to write is a good indicator that I'm feeling better, so, little jumpy "YAAAY" with tiny little sad pom poms.</i></b><br />
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<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-64177039969542705432012-12-13T10:44:00.001-06:002012-12-13T10:45:17.324-06:00Things I Love Thursday - Part 61Dear Sweet Grandmama has written you a Schmolidays letter (please go <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2012/04/things-i-love-thursday-part-33.html">here</a> if you don't know who Grandmama is - it's important to know what the hell is going on, trust me. Oh and of course, I have a disclaimer at the end. THANKS!) <br />
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Without further ado --- The Thing I Love this Thursday is GRANDMAMA. Yes, I love this old broad and her judgements and disapproval. AHEM AHEM AHEM --- <br />
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Dear "Divers" (as this trampy tramp Katy likes to call you),<br />
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Well, It's been a banner disgraceful year here at the Dumpster Household. The "lady" of the house spread her legs wide for the devil science and got herself DOUBLY knocked up. Twins are an abomination! In Vitro is an abomination! Shameful really. She has literally let HUNDREDS, MAYBE THOUSANDS gaze into her Hooha to get a look at the goods and has absolutely no shame about it. I heard at the hospital, they were laughing and joking during all this baby making nonsense and I am horrified! There were so many women just traipsing through the hospital all TRYING DESPERATELY TO GET KNOCKED UP! In my day, we never tried to get knocked up. You had the demon sex and you didn't enjoy it and you got pregnant and YOU HID IT FROM THE WORLD AND FELT ASHAMED until you pushed out yet another screaming GIFT FROM GOD.<br />
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This trampy tramp Katy CELEBRATES her big round belly by wearing tight clothing and *shudders* defining "maternity skinny jeans" whatever that abomination is. AND SHE DANCES. Continually. Just try to get her to stop shaking her rear. The only thing that could be worse is if she hadn't tricked and married that extremely tall, good looking gentleman she somehow landed despite being a giant hussy who does nothing but TRAMP AROUND in BRIGHT RED LIPSTICK and short dresses and those god awful high heels she favors and refuses to give up even though her belly sticks out two feet in front of her. SHAMEFUL. <br />
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Did I mention I can't believe that tall handsome gentleman even married her 3 years ago? I mean obviously he's under some spell of the devil to even consider it and the fact that he stays with her, well, there's got to be some voodoo devil nonsense at work! But I digress. That lovely tall tall gentleman is really my special friend here along with the lovely Sally Boy Kitty and Eliza Jane Doolittle. If only that trampy tramp Katy would get the hell out of our sainted home, we could all be much happier and holier. <br />
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Speaking of Sally Boy, we have had many many tea parties and gossip sessions and beauty makeunders while trampy tramp is out in THE WORKFORCE - shameful. SHAMEFUL. She dresses and goes on the public train to a job where she EARNS MONEY and has insurance and asserts herself. CAN YOU EVEN IMAGINE? <br />
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Anyway, I try and try with Sally Boy to get him to understand what a horrid example of a real woman that trampy tramp is, but every day, like clockwork he is at the door meowyelling acting all easy with affection for her when she walks in the door. SHE LEAVES HER HOME FOR 11 HOURS A DAY! She is not home cooking and cleaning and doing her womanly duty. In fact, her lovely husband (that I could take care of a whole lot better than she does) does more of that type of thing than she does. She is out EARNING *shudders* MONEY. <br />
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LOOK AT THIS - both kitties on that trampy tramps HUGE belly. They love her even though she is a hussy. I try and try with these cats but they keep going back in!<br />
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This is my daily life. I am locked in a jewelry box and forced to be muffled as to criticism when I AM ONLY TRYING TO HELP HER NOT TO BE SO TERRIBLY TRAMPY! But does she appreciate me? NO. No, she does not. She tells me to zip it and locks me in even tighter. I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!<br />
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Well, I will tell you, "Divers" that this next year it's all going to hell. She is so excited for her two devil science babies to come but she is going to crumble, I tell you. I will laugh and laugh when she cries and tells me how difficult it is and then, when those babies smile at me and think I'm pretty and shiny, I will somehow deflect them. I don't want any sticky baby fingers on me. These babies will be the tipping point in this house, I will tell you right now. MARK MY WORDS. I will not soften on this. Those babies are no good. No good can come from devil science babies! Unless somehow they are really wonderful and then, well all bets are off. Who can resist a baby or even two?<br />
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Oh well, another year, another terrible development in the Dumpster Household. How I ever ended up in this mess I'll never know. My wish for all of you is that you stay away from the devil science, hold your tongues and keep your bosoms, thoughts and opinions HIDDEN. Happy Christmas to all and if you don't like it, you don't love America! <br />
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Regards,<br />
Grandmama<br />
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DISCLAIMER - Katy is not responsible for the thoughts and opinions expressed here as Grandmama is a total loose cannon and really has no idea what she's on about. <br />
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<br />Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-34412803003754398422012-12-10T10:36:00.001-06:002012-12-10T10:36:18.315-06:00THERE'S NO TIME!
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">34 and a half weeks and OHMYGODS 34 and a half weeks! <br />Don't worry - these pictures are almost done and you'll never have to see another one!<br />But until then, KABLAMMO.<br />
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You know what I always find disconcerting is that you know these women, family or friends or co-workers and one day they are enormously pregnant and you KNOW they are pregnant and going to have a baby or babies and yet, when one day they are huge and the next day they just HAVE A BABY and then they aren't that person that is pregnant any more. <br />
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It's likely my teeny tiny brain that always has a hard time reconciling this, but it still seems so sudden. And this time, I AM THE WOMAN. 9 months seems like a long time in some ways and in other ways, like the blink of an eye and you JUST SAW THAT WOMAN AND SHE NOW IS A MAMA HOLDING BABIES AND OH MY GODS HER LIFE WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.<br />
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As I've stated before, I am the first woman to ever be pregnant and feel these strange feelings, so bear with me. It's revolutionary, I know. HOLD ONTO YOUR BONNETS!<br />
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I am so ready to have these babies. Also? I AM NOT AT ALL READY TO HAVE THESE BABIES. I'm paralyzed by how much we haven't done to get ready. We don't have the nursery that people keep asking about (due to the tiny apartment we live in) but we do have ALL THE THINGS FOR BABIES, SO MANY THINGS. We don't have a plan in place for a nanny and when I go back to work, 5 months after Hall & Oates arrive. I keep breathing deep and thinking <em>my little mama will be with us for the first few weeks and she knows what she's doing, thank gods. </em>We don't have it all planned out and I'm freaking out and yet, and yet, I don't do anything to remedy the situation.<br />
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My dear sweet dumpster husband and I keep looking at each other and saying to ourselves and to each other, "IT WILL ALL BE FINE IT WILL ALL BE FINE IT WILL ALL BE FINE." Which is absolutely true. All we have to do is keep these babies alive and fed and changed and warm and nurtured and growing in a semi healthy way - both physically and mentally - and we'll all be fine. Simple really. *shakes head NOOOOO, not at all simple*<br /><br />My Sponsor from day one kept saying two things to me, "more shall be revealed" and "all is well". And while I wanted to punch her in the throat for saying such nonsense, I now understand EXACTLY what she meant. If I can keep saying these two things to myself in every area of my life, it makes it so much easier. Try it. Say it and then just breathe. See? I'm not just whistlin' dixie over here. <br />
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There won't be too many more posts here with me enormously pregnant, and I know some of you are thankful for that. Most of you though have been incredibly supportive and loving and fun to strap in with me and go on this ride. And as far as the blog goes, "more shall be revealed".....see? It's true. It's evolving and it's still going to be sobriety first, babies second. And everything else in between. Life, you know?<br />
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Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-62741933494403385112012-12-05T11:09:00.001-06:002012-12-05T11:09:20.830-06:00The Tale of The Formerly Smart Girl who is Now the Stupidest Girl that Ever LivedOnce upon a time, there was a stupid stupid girl. This girl had not always been so stupid. However, this girl happened to be about 34 weeks pregnant with her twins who were literally sucking every resource out of her and leaving her with nothing to function on but her looks and her humor. Both of which are quickly fading as well. <br />
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Back to our girl. She worked at home one day and was expecting an arrival of a very special <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Therapy-Best-Buys-Mother-to-be-Maternity/dp/B00063IQ48">maternity belt</a> to keep her big huge belly bag full o' babies hiked up and her back from caving in completely. IT ARRIVED! The package arrived and the girl ran down the apartment building stairs so quickly in anticipation and bent down to pick up the package, and KABLAMMO the door slammed behind her. <br />
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Trapped in her building's 5 by 5 vestibule IN HER PAJAMAS and day old make up and unbrushed teeth and basically looking homeless, and I know homeless, but also hugely pregnant and it was getting dark. NO PHONE, NO KEYS, NO WATCH. NOTHING. <br />
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Here's the kicker. The stupid girl's husband had just told her on the phone upstairs that he was leaving work early and that meant a 45 minute train ride and he would be home to save her! So, she listened to many many train signals pass, thinking, he's got to be on this train. He's got to! <br />
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Nope. Nothing. And none of her neighbors came home either. Even if she could get to a phone, stupid girl is so stupid that she has no phone numbers memorized. They are all programmed into her cell phone, right? RIGHT? Who memorizes phone numbers any more? She found out later that her husband could not leave work early and he wasn't expected home until the normal time. <br /><br />So, she hunkered down on the cold floor and put her arms in her tshirt and rubbed her belly saying, "this is all going to be fine, let's just meditate for a while." And it must have worked because all of a sudden her charming neighbor and 1 year old son arrived home. The stupid girl sobbed and sobbed and hugged her neighbor for way too long and made everybody really uncomfortable and then ran upstairs to find many many messages on her cell phone from people worried about her.<br />
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<strong>It turns out she had been trapped in that vestibule for about 4 HOURS</strong>. Standing and sitting and pacing and swearing and crying and laughing and yelling to her cat that she could hear meowyelling upstairs. Pretty much the encapsulating of her longago time in the loony bin. Except our girl is not loony, she's just pregnant with twins. <br />
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The girl was supposed to have a pre-natal massage that she missed and called that woman and cried apologetically. The girl's sister in law (who gifted the girl the massage) thought the girl had been in an accident. Nope, sorry. Just pregnant stupid. <br />
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The girl was so angry at herself, still kind of is, but the bright side is, she had 4 hours uninterrupted of thought without phones or electronics or anyone tugging at her sleeve. THAT NEVER HAPPENS. It turns out the girl must have gone into a meditative state where she didn't even realize how long she was down there, and the most amazing, miraculous thing happened! SHE DIDN'T HAVE TO PEE FOR FOUR WHOLE HOURS!<br />
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She wasn't frantically keeping up with emails or phone calls for work, not checking Facebook or Twitter or Pinterest for the 85th time in an hour. She was simply being. Now, this girl has paid to go on retreats where this happens. Turns out she didn't need to pay anybody to get the meditative time she craved, she simply had to use her powers of pregnant stupidity to get locked out for four hours wearing pajamas and then, just be. <br />
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I don't have a picture of the awesomeness of the stupid girl that happened yesterday, but I do have this, which is today - <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">PUT A BIRD ON IT.<br />
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She's all cleaned up with BELLY BAND ON ( no she won't show you a picture of that nonsense), heels and and head held high. The Tale of The Formerly Smart Girl who is Now the Stupidest Girl that Ever Lived shall be told for generations to come as in, <strong><em>"you think you were stupid when you were pregnant, get a load a this broad!"</em></strong> And you know what? That is just fine with her. She actually turned it into something positive and NOTHING can beat the feeling that she's giving all that she has to creating these two babes right now. No matter how humiliating. <br />
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If only we knew who this girl was in real life, we could really all point and laugh at her, right? Just remember. Please be kind to her if you see her. She's fragile. And she's usually kind to you. <br />
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THE END. <br />
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Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-80051271077758489322012-11-29T11:33:00.001-06:002012-11-29T11:33:08.697-06:00Things I Love Thursday - Part 60This is going to come off as bitter or sweet, hopefully bittersweet. I LOVE going to work every day. Even on days where I say, "I DON'T WANT TO GET OUT OF BED TODAY" I still love that I get to get up and get dressed and get on the train and go downtown to the office every day. <br />
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So, it's begun to hit me that I have a big life change coming on. Yes, I know, I am a bit slow, but I will be be having babies soon, very soon, and it will mean I will be home for about 5 months with them because apparently babies need their mother for certain things. WHO KNEW? Pfffft.<br />
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We women are incredible. We can bring home the facon, fry it up in the pan (well, if I cooked that would be true). I have is an incredible husband who does so much stuff to be helpful and supportive and just always has, like, doing laundry, cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, all that stuff. I'm quite spoiled with him as I never had to ask, he just does all this.<br />
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Now, yesterday was my first official WORK FROM HOME day. It's been coming as Boss has said, "cut down your hours and work from home when you can." I am open to it and I feel like I've got the set up, new office chair and fax/copier/scanner all ready to go. Sally Boy and Eliza Jane are both not at all helpful, but they are furry and cute and distracting. So, I will be working at home here and there for the next few weeks. <br />
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But the thing is, I was incredibly sad yesterday. Lethargic even. I know this is coming and if one g-d person says I'm ungrateful for these babies coming, so help me......I keep saying my biggest fear in having babies is other moms. So please, if you want to give me shit about expressing this sadness right now when the best thing in the world is really happening with these babies, share your judgement someplace else. This is a judgement free zone. <br />
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We women are so many things to so many people, including ourselves. I LOVE my work identity and that I am good at what I do and appreciated. I had 4 people tell me it was so quiet and boring at work yesterday without me. That MADE MY DAY. I celebrate that I am wanted and needed here. <br />
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That takes nothing away from how uber excited I am to devote my entire life to these babies for the next several months. I mean, the rest of my life will be devoted to them, but I will have many other parts of my life as well. <br />
<ol>
<li>My AA part where I am vital and needed and I SO DESPERATELY NEED AA and all that goes with it. </li>
<li>My work part as I will of course, keep working - both because I love my work and because we absolutely have to have the money and insurance. </li>
<li>MY WRITING LIFE! (yes, I'm slowly realizing that I am, in fact, a writer) and after I quit doing the acting thing, it's been a definite creative and healthy outlet for me, I will NOT be giving that up. And the people I've met through writing this blog have truly changed my life for the better. Have no fear, I shall be writing for my sanity and for yours. </li>
<li>My healthy lifestyle that I worked so hard to get going before getting pregnant. And while I've been pregnant it's been a big part of why I look and feel so good. I aspire to keep that shit up! </li>
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It's so important that we keep ourselves fully rounded. <strong><em>We are women, gotdammit</em></strong>. We are way more than just our children. I say that with all the love in my heart for my babies, but similarly to us needing to be COMPLETELY WHOLE without a partner, we need to be completely whole on our own so that we can give so much to the people and tasks we love. I say all the time to women I sponsor in AA, we need to be GOOD, WHOLE, COMPLETE without a partner. Only then, can we fully give of ourselves to another. And that takes work. I've been that girl/woman who needed complete validation from a boy/man and it is no good. NO GOOD I TELL YA! I choose to believe the same philosophy is true with having children. I wrote about this here before - <a href="http://www.wantadumpsterbaby.com/2012/07/most-important-thing-i-need-to-do-while.html">my babies will never have to see me drunk, if I do the work</a>.<br />
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So, you will forgive me when I say that I am beginning to mourn my lifestyle without children. And it is OK. When I quit drinking I mourned that lover. When I quit smoking I mourned that lover. I am STILL really mourning that lover. Every damn day. And just like a relationship, major life changes require adjustment periods and loss and gain and everything in between. And it is HEALTHY TO ADMIT THIS SHIT. <br />
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My life is going to change. But it certainly is for the better. That is the THING I LOVE THIS THURSDAY. I can be grateful that I have learned to practice the healthy mourning of change in my life. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It is something to celebrate and acknowledge and share with each other. No shame. Only love and appreciation of the moment. In a healthy supportive way. We women need each other. This is no time for judgement. Just love and acceptance of who we are and what we are feeling. I'm so in, are you?Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-81479154852180279152012-11-27T13:05:00.001-06:002012-11-27T13:05:04.781-06:00PauseI am an asshole. I have to work at not being an asshole sometimes. It's gotten so much better than it used to be, but sometimes it still seeps out, like when you fill your teeny tiny coffee mug too full and try to put the to-go top on it and coffee seeps out the side. And then I cry. That is my inner asshole seeping out. <br />
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The best trick I've learned since being sober is to PAUSE. <br />
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No matter how badly in my gut I want to respond in anger or in hurt or in tears or in venomous replies, I CAN PAUSE today. I can yell and scream at an email or a fake person about what I'm angry or hurt about (because anger is usually a cover up for hurt - at least for me), but I do not have to respond immediately. <br />
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I've written about this before, and due to my fiery Irish temper, it doesn't ever truly go away. You know in the 12 step program we have what are called Character Defects, and a big part of working a good program is to get rid of these defects. But the funny thing is, they are some of our favorite things. I love my anger. I love my passion. I love my fight for the underdog no matter the cost and I don't want to apologize for that. <br />
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But what I don't love is drama and hurt and constant wondering what is going to happen next because of something stupid that I did or said that I know I will regret almost immediately. <br />
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How often do I respond in anger or hurt and regret it? Almost every damn time. How often do I pause and reflect and bounce things off other people and NOT respond in anger and hurt and regret it? NEVER. IT NEVER HAPPENS. I pick my battles, make no mistake. When there is something to fight, I will fight it, just not in the gut reaction way I used to. <br />
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The good news is, I don't do that shit nearly as much as I used to. And my life is better because of it.<br />
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People who constantly have drama in their lives, unfortunately fail to realize that at least some of that drama is their own damn fault. I used to say, "I hate drama so much! I don't want drama in my life!" But then I would turn around and say something that I KNEW DAMN WELL would cause a reaction from someone. And the cycle continues. <br />
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After I got sober, I thought my life would be so boring that I created my own drama. Boy did I. These days, I try so very hard to have an HONEST, normal, quiet, happy, joyous and free existence. And most of the time, that is exactly what I have. I don't have to worry what the next email or phone call with be and I can look people in the eyes and take responsibility for my part in things. <br /><br />THAT IS A MIRACLE.<br />
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I had to apologize to a friend today because I was an asshole and reacted and took something out on her very inappropriately. It's not right and it's not fair. And the best part is I can apologize, and she has a choice of saying, "it's OK" or "screw you, you are an asshole." Luckily for me, she was fine. And I cried. But what else is new?<br />
<br />I cannot control other people, or what they say and do to me, BUT I do find that if I am in control of my side of the street, life seems to go a lot more smoothly. And that is something I never ever thought I would be able to say - that I love this truly drama free life of mine today. Just like anything worth keeping, though, I must be vigilant. My inner asshole is just waiting for me to let her jump into action. Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-79646655111394646342012-11-19T16:43:00.001-06:002012-11-19T16:43:53.998-06:00Misery Loves Company?I've noticed since I've been pregnant many many MANY people WANT me to complain. It happened before I got pregnant too, because I've been fighting this happiness battle a long time. But it's happening way more now since I am pregnant. It's like they cannot wait for me to start whining about how terrible this all is. Either the pregnancy part of the having two kids coming part. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but when you work so hard to get pregnant in the first place, you don't really find reason to complain. In fact, it's quite the opposite. And I know there are many of you out there who feel exactly the same way I do. <br />
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And I don't need to "just wait until.....". I don't. If my past is any indication of what my attitude will be, I will choose gratitude. For all of it. Even when I'm miserable. BECAUSE I MAKE THAT CHOICE. It doesn't mean I'm delusional or in denial. It simply means, I've been through shit. And I can see so much good in every day little stuff that so many take for granted. There are those among us who celebrate normalcy and even going through pains of something like being pregnant, I am thankful for every little ache and pain and don't take it lightly at all. <br />
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We paid a lot of money and I had one of the worst, darkest periods of my life with In Vitro. Why the hell would we do all that only to complain about being pregnant and then about having kids? <br />
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I guess it's interesting to me that people so badly want me to be miserable. Is it really the "misery loves company" thing? I find it online and in real life, that people say, "how are you feeling?" And I say, "I feel pretty good, I feel lucky that this is a pretty easy pregnancy." SILENCE. and then they say, "well just wait, and then they go on to tell me about something TERRIBLE that I will experience with these kids." Well, yeah. That's the whole point isn't it? That doesn't mean I'm not still going to be happy about it at the end of the day. <br />
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I understand some people are bitter. I understand that some people are not happy in their lives and feel the need to pass along their misery to others, but you know what? I HAVE A SHIELD AGAINST YOU.<br />
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That's right. This is some Captain America comic book shit right here. I have a shield against bitterness and negativity and emotional vampirism and I will fight you. I with fight to not fall victim to your unhappiness. Because I have been in a hole of unhappiness and I need to defend myself against it. <br />
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I don't mean to say it's all bloody sunshine and roses and that I don't feel extremely uncomfortable and scared and unprepared and all that, but god dammit, we wanted this so badly and we are getting this, and I am more than anything else, SO FUCKING HAPPY and grateful that this is happening. <br />
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So, when you approach me and you have a snarky, snide, bitter comment to make just know, I WILL DEFLECT IT. I want you to be happy too. We're not all happy all the damn time, but damn, is life ever good. I can only control my part of things, and I control that I won't react to negativity if I can at all help it. <br />
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You want to bring me down, YOU WILL HAVE TO TRY HARDER. Well, no, don't. I don't really want you to try to bring me down, just as I will only try to build you up. I want you to be happy, joyous and free. Not sad and miserable and joyless. No matter what is going on in my life, even through tears and freak outs, I can find something to be thankful for. <br />
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Then there are the people who are choosing happiness as well. I love to surround myself with these people. Even as they go through the shit, they try to find the bright side. I know, I know, we are annoying as hell, but still we go on and we are hopeful and filled with gratitude. When you've been through hell on earth, you know that anything else has to be better than that. And it is. It really is better. We all have darkness. We all experience highs and lows and it's how we deal with those extremes that makes a difference in the long term.<br />
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I choose to surround myself with people who want the light and love of happiness. We fight for it. We fight for each other. And that fight can get ugly. Seems like a paradox - an ugly fight to be happy. But it is, because it doesn't come naturally to a lot of us. We have to work at it. Don't make me start ugly crying, because it's about all I do lately. And you know what? I am happy about that. FEEL ALL THE FEELINGS! Who wants to put their shield up with me?<br />
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Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5328811393022080798.post-80496566875644399132012-11-15T11:15:00.002-06:002012-11-15T11:15:46.023-06:00Things I Love Thursday - Part 59I have someone very very close to me who just put someone they love into detox this morning. This is not earth shattering in that this happens all the time. People are at the end of their rope and desperate to keep their families together and say they will DO ANYTHING to keep what they have. DESPERATION and BACKS AGAINST THE WALL are some of recovery's best friends. OR, it's all bullshit and the people go right back out and drink or use again, like I did several times, before I finally quit drinking for good.<br />
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The Thing I Love this Thursday is that I can be there for someone going through all this with a loved one and be compassionate and helpful and just listen. Just having some perspective about all of this is a blessing. Usually it takes a good long time before somebody gets to detox or rehab. There have been many many broken promises, terribly embarrassing occurrences, blackouts, break ups, divorces, custody battles, firings, evictions of the heart and the soul. <br />
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There have been promises, oh how we alcoholics love to make promises. And it's not even that we don't mean them with all our being at the time, it's just that WE FAIL. Over and over and over. WE WILL FAIL. And yet, we want you to believe us. To give us just one more chance after we've already exhausted so many chances and thrown them in your face. We still want you to believe in us and help us just ONE MORE TIME. It will be different. I will get better. I will do it for you. I will do it for my kids. I will do it for my family. I will do it for my boyfriend. BULLSHIT. <br />
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I know it's bullshit because I have used every single excuse and reason there is to justify that I went out and drank again. That I hid it in Tupperware containers all over your apartment because I am incredibly shameful and yet, still not ready to quit. I know it's bullshit because I picked being homeless and penniless and hopeless over a nice warm AA meeting with free coffee. This only works when we do it for ourselves. When we decide we are enough and we are worthy.<br /><br />EVERYONE HAS GIVEN UP ON ME. Everyone has given up on me except for other drunks. Other drunks extend their hand and say, "I have been where you are and I understand and I will help you up. AS LONG AS YOU ARE WILLING TO DO ANYTHING TO HELP YOURSELF."<br />
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Who could expect our loved ones who we have burned repeatedly for years with our lies and our deception and broken promises to give us more? And yet, they do, and this person I'm really really close to is beating himself up saying, "I'm an enabler." Of course you are. You love this person and the hardest thing to do is to cut off the love and help you think you are giving someone who so desperately needs it.<br />
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The thing with us drunks is, we so desperately need help, but until we WANT help? Nothing makes a lick of difference. <br />
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I'm confident saying I was a big fat liar, cheater, manipulator and all around bad person when I was drinking. I didn't want to be, but that's what I was. And as desperately sad and without any hope at all as I was, I still drank and did terrible things to keep up the lies. BECAUSE I WAS SICK and I didn't take responsibility for anything. Until I stepped up and OWNED every bad decision I made, I was going to continue to be sick and continue that cycle, hurting everyone who loved me and invested their time, love, energy and resources on me. It was like a big FUCK YOU to everyone who loved me. <br />
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The fact that I CHOOSE HOPE today is a miracle. And I believe in miracles as I am one. I shouldn't be here and I know many many others who shouldn't be here either. If life were fair, we would be dead. Or at least not nearly as blessed as we are. <br />
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With that in mind, we cannot give up on people who are sick. But we do have to take care of ourselves first. You know that whole, "when the oxygen mask comes down, put it on yourself first before you help others?" Yeah, life and dealing with addicts/alcoholics is like that too. YOU MUST TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF FIRST. You are no good to anyone if you are completely depleted of resources, love and hope. Put that oxygen mask on and BREATHE DEEP. YOU ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE for anyone's sobriety. ONLY THAT PERSON is responsible. I promise you.<br />
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Kitkatkootiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04363160740273029255noreply@blogger.com26