Boobs...Sorry, I'm Just Looking for the Attention

And throwing around a word like boobs tends to do it.

When I started this blog at the beginning of the year I thought that a lot of it would be about how I changed my lifestyle, and in all honesty my life has changed, though I can't really say the lifestyle has much.

I had ideas about where I was going and what I was going to do and now I weigh more than I did and my eating habits are equally atrociousness, I don't spend as much time with my spouse and children as I wanted to and I haven't met any of the goals that I planned. And while I could blame my boobs for these problems, that's not really the case at all. More of it is what's been going on in my head than what's been going on in my body, although technically the chemical chaos in my brain could be considered what's going on in my body but I'm not going to argue the technicalities with myself.

The fact is before I started to think about getting any of that stuff done I had to deal with what I call my demure insanity, commonly known as depression. There are varied opinions of depression and how to deal with it, but I know it's a shy and quiet sort of insanity that few people other than the person dealing with it can notice or take care of, if other people could then suicide rates would be lower and we wouldn't be mourning the loss of Robin Williams.

I've struggled with depression since my teenage years, I have enough insight to know when I need help and this year I decided to take the steps to get help. I've gotten on medication and am in much needed counseling. I especially needed this after the cancer scare. This time I have every intention of getting my life in order and learning how to get myself on the path at I need to be on, a path that will not only benefit me, but the ones around me who have to suffer with demure insanity being a sickness, rather than the demure lady who throws out crazy, witty and fun quips like I want to be, and have been in the past.

Ahh, Insurance

Insurance companies fascinate me, and not in a positive way, or a creepy fetish way if anyone thinks that's where I was going. I just think that the way they think is fascinating.

Yesterday was my birthday, and happy birthday to me I got to have a mammogram and ultrasound on the breast that doesn't have breast cancer. I am aware that they found a few questionable spots that the doctor wants to get a better look at. They weren't as large and obvious as the one that I had removed so the doctor ordered an MRI (happy birthday, you get an MRI!).

So I got a call from the nurse telling me that it wasn't going to be approved this week but she was working with the insurance company to get the MRI approved. Which makes me think, um, insurance company, don't you think that it would be better to get all of this out of the way now so that we don't have to worry about it getting worse and more expensive in the future. You are already aware of the fact that I have breast cancer, why wouldn't you go, yeah, lets get a look at it, and if possible remove it to make sure that we don't have to worry about the expenses in the future.

But then, maybe they're hopping it will just get worse and I'll die, then it's the life insurance policy that has to pay as opposed to the health insurance. Now, I'm know it wouldn't be as quick or drastic as that, but still, arguing that an individual with a history of breast cancer shouldn't get a breast MRI is a little silly to me.

Accursed Mammary Glands

I have to say that I've never been that fond of having boobs. They're big flabs on the front of my chest that make it hard to fit into small spaces and exercise without a really good bra. They've served their purpose in feeding my two children and I am grateful for that but now I don't really have anything good to say about the damn things.

Now I understand that there are plenty of small chested women who scoff at me for saying that, they might even swear at me for it, but I'm more than justified in disliking my breasts these days. In mid July I had a mass removed from my right breast, a mass we all believed to be benign. The two weeks after the open biopsy I thought nothing about it, then I went back to see the surgeon and found out I had breast cancer.

It wasn't aggressive cancer and I don't have to have chemotherapy, but I do have to deal with doctor appointments, several long weeks of radiation and five years of estrogen pills. All stress I certainly don't want or need in my life.

To make matters worse I never could have seen it coming, there is no history of breast cancer in my family and I am only 32 years old. Well, I'll be 33 next week, but I was still diagnosed when I was 32. I'm an unusual case, which I am usually proud to say, but could have done without saying this time.

Raising Nerds...Who Aren't Quite Nerds

My mother called me on Thursday to make sure I was going to make it to my father's sixtieth birthday party, although really it was more a small get-together than a party. It was interesting because when she called I was studying math, my husband was studying for school, my oldest daughter was studying her math, and the only one not studying was my two-year old because she's two, although I suppose exploring and tearing up her sister's room could be thought of as studying.

When I got off the phone I looked at my husband and said, wow, we're a bunch of nerds, aren't we. I said it with a smile, because I love being a nerd. I love it even more now that being a nerd has gotten to a whole lot more acceptable.

It happened again when we were headed to my father's party on Saturday, my husband and I began discussing the formula for figuring out how fast another car might be going depending on how many seconds it would take them to go one mile. Math is not my greatest skill, but he was very good with it when he was younger, and honestly does need the work refreshing his memory since he has started back in college. We didn't figure it out, although I worked on it diligently for a while at my parent's house and most of the way home, which is a two hour trip one way. He got frustrated because he was driving and was sure that if he sat down he'd figure it out in just a few minute. He probably would have if I hadn't told him I was going to start looking online for it.

I'm not sure if he realizes it, but discussions like that are good to have in front of our daughters. It teaches them that math may be useful outside of school one day, and can make for interesting discussions between two people. I think he still has it in his head that it's not entirely okay to be a nerd, but I've told many people that I am doing a fantastic job of raising an odd child who loves both sports and nerdy things like The Hobbit.

I know my oldest is going to be one of the weird kids, and I've repeatedly told her that's fantastic. There are many very successful people who were the weird kids. I was one of the weird kids and I turned out just fine.

At least, I think I did o_O

Facing One of My Greatest High School Terrors... Geometry

I'm fortunate not to be one of those moms who is obsessed with their child's success. I want my children to be successful, but I'm not going to ruin the fun of her childhood because of it. But I like to think that I do a little more than some of the mothers in my family as far as trying to make certain that my kids are successful.

Which brings me to the obnoxious amount of information that children unlearn because of summer vacation. While my child is learning about how to get dirty and ruin her clothing I want to make certain that she goes back to school with as much, if not a little more, book knowledge. We discovered khanacademy.com. It's fantastic and I recommend it for anyone who wants to learn without having to pay for classes. Their math section is particularly impressive as it goes from kindergarten math to calculus.

I have my daughter working on the early math sections while I work on math a little every day. She gets a little bored with it, but I think that has more to do with wanting to play games and enjoy her summer vacation more than the reason I stopped wanting to do math.

Which is because somewhere along the way number began to intimidate me. I don't know what it is, but just thinking about them half the time is enough to repulse me. I am getting over the problem with the help of Khan Academy. The core standards that parents across the country are calling the devil's handiwork because they can't help their children with their math homework are what have helped me understand and build a better relationship with numbers.

Although I am still being terrorized by my nemesis, Geometry. It was the one class I truly struggled with in high school. Most other math was fairly easy to me, but geometry assaulted me to the point of giving up and needing to drop the class. I retook it but still struggled with it. It terrorized me into taking only the minimal amount of college math and being completely stoked when I was done (even though that was fairly easy for me too, the first week the professor of my college math course recommended I switch to statistics, I responed with a vehement no). The worst part is, I'm only doing 4th grade Geometry and fighting with it already.

But I will face this terror. I have begun to study its weaknesses from all angles and victory will be mine one day.

I shall smite thee, Geometry, just give me a little time.

Speaking of Zombies...

I rather dread today. I have a two hour trip to my parent's house to celebrate my nephew's first birthday, then two hours back. I love my family dearly, but . . . well, I'm sure many of you have had that same 'but' from time to time. Mine has lasted for about eight years now, shortly after they all realized that they were going to have to accept the stranger that is my now husband into the family. I think that they were hoping that I would fall for one of the guys my sister, dad and I worked with, or someone who my mom introduced me to. My parents were hoping he would be Catholic, I think they should be happy he was even christian, most of the guys that have been interested in me were atheist.

As I think about the trip and how much I don't want to take it, I can't help but think that it would be the perfect time for a zombie apocalypse to hit. It would be a great excuse not to go, I mean, excuses can't get much better than 'all my survival gear is at the house, loading it into the car would be like feeding myself to the zombies'. We could live in the basement for a while, we have plenty of food down there to survive and plenty of ways to keep barricaded in.

Anyone who knows me know just how seriously I don't want to go by wishing for a zombie apocalypse. I HATE zombies. They are my least favorite supernatural creature. I have a BA in communications so I keep up on pop culture as much as I can, but I cannot make myself watch the Walking Dead despite how curious I am about it. I am making baby steps towards watching it, but I have other stuff to watch first. I even want to see Warm Bodies, but can't do it. I was proud of myself for watching Zombieland, but that movie is just freaking hilarious and I love the cast.

So, I guess since I love my family I will make the trek to see them...but still some kind of apocalypse would be nice.

Stress Zombies Gnawing at My Brain

That sounds like it should be the name of a song. Stress zombies gnawing on my brain, la di da.

But I digress.

Getting to a healthy weight is one of the biggest things that is going to lead to my happiness, for those wondering why I keep talking about my weight. I'm not morbidly obese, but I am considered obese. So when I post about things like exercise and dieting, that's why I'm posting. I just wanted to explain that before I got started today.

Yesterday could have been a bad day for me. I woke up later than I wanted after taking medicine for a cold I was catching (I should know better than to do that). Then I spent the rest of the day worried about when I would get my workout in. It was only the second day of my revolution and I didn't want to fail so early in the game. It became a little stress zombie, painfully chewing at my brain.

It's hard to do a long workout when there's a little one in the house, especially since she's a little Houdini. She just turned two at the end of December and has been climbing everything including baby gates and cribs since she was 18 months. In order to give myself piece of mind, and keep her from breaking any bones, I had to switch her to a toddler bed because every morning she would wake up, climb over the rail and drop to the floor. Now she knows how to open doors, turn on the stove and get past the "child proof" everything.

So I waited it out, the zombie gnawing even more with lost chance. Then, when my eight year old got out of school the little one finally decided to take a nap. I asked the older one to clean her room, which is across the hall from the little one's room, and keep listen for the little one should she wake up. I successfully got my workout in without, and even managed not to stress eat.

I think the most valuable lesson I learned was not to let the stress zombie gnaw at my brain so much, to be patient and I should be able to find the time. And honestly I'm better for it, I didn't wake up early today either (it's my first week of harder workouts so it's tiring me out), but the zombie isn't getting to me as much today.

Revolution Starting Point 1: Happiness

So it begins today. I’m still hammering out the details of my revolution, but I do know that the first of it is happiness.

Happiness is something that much like my weight loss is something that I struggle with. In fact, I’m positive that my unhappiness is directly linked to my being overweight. I’ll have pockets of it here and there, but it never lasts.

The longest stretch of happiness I can remember was for about two years, four months of that was when I first met my now husband the rest of it was when I was basically a non-traditional college student at age 21 (it doesn’t seem like it, but it is non-traditional). I had big plans for my future because I was kicking butt and taking names in college, owned a house that my sister said she would buy from me, and was completely comfortable and happy with who I was (well, for the most part, I had about ten pounds of tummy I wanted to get rid of which I laugh about now). It was the only period in my life since I was eleven that I hadn’t needed anti-depressants.

Then I got pregnant. I bawled when I found out, I don’t think that he understood exactly why I was distraught. He might understand better now, but I honestly doubt it. So, depression and pregnancy set in. I took to eating and gained way too much weight. I asked about it and the doctors shrugged it off, then the month that I hadn’t gained any weight they treated me like I had committed a crime.

I had my daughter and between work, school and raising her I had no time to worry about losing weight. I put everyone and everything ahead of myself, and have continued to do that since.

So, over eight years have passed. I managed to graduate from college but since I’ve had to move where his job took us it meant living in small towns nowhere near places that would have jobs in my field. I ended up settling for a job as a pharmacy clerk, which turned into pharmacy technician. In 2011 I got hired at a major university hospital and thought that it was the last place that I would ever work only to find out shortly after getting hired that I was pregnant. When I was 35 weeks pregnant they fired me for failure to meet expectations during my probationary period, without ever having ever talked to me about my performance or given me any written warnings. To make matters worse, after I had the baby and began looking for jobs I found out that when potential employers contacted my former supervisor that she would not recommend they pursue hiring me without giving them an explanation. So I have trouble getting my heart into the idea of being a pharmacy technician again. That doesn’t mean that I’m not still trying to get a job as one, I just haven’t had any luck because ultimately the calls go to the supervisor.

But this is turning into a rambling. Overall, happiness is my starting point, or at least doing something about my depression. For the first time in almost two years I’m going to have decent insurance so I set up a doctor appointment and will hopefully get something for the depression. 

Unfortunately the appointment isn’t until the 22^nd, but knowing I have the appointment has eased my mind a bit. And at least this will give me a chance to lose a few pounds so I’m not grimacing when I step on the scale at the doctors’ office.