Divine Sisterhood of the Traveling YaYa's ... (wait, no, that's not it)

Is she blogging about Sisterhoods again?
Yes, my loves, she is!

As some of you may remember from my previous blog post, I've longed for a "deep and meaningful" sisterhood of friends. I miss it, I wish it, I crave it.

I do have some really good friends around me right now. Friends that I know I could call up in the middle of the night if I needed them. Friends that would and have been there for me as much as I would and have been there for them. Friends that I hope to have for a lifetime.

I have different friends, from different circles, and the relationships I have with these women separately are great ... as a whole, however, the void is still there. I haven't yet found that tribe like atmosphere that I long for. That group of strong women who honestly and deeply care about one another wholly. Sure, some in the group may be better friends with others, but as a whole, they all get a long. They share trust, respect, kindness, love... that's my dream. It's what I want.

You have to take the good with the bad ... I've been told. But you know what, I don't want to! Perhaps that makes me stubborn, childish, and a bit of a snob ... but honestly, I don't want to. When it comes to pouring my heart and soul into something, like a sisterhood, I'm not going to do it when there are people whom I don't trust lurking the borders. I'm guarded in that respect. As such, I don't have the level of trust and comfort and self assurance needed for the next level here. And as it stands, I don't know that it's going to be possible here.

As much as I am so absolutely not interested in the petty cat fight drama that can come with groups of women, it seems that I am right smack dab in the middle of some. It's getting so old. Really, so very damn old. So much so that I finally put an end to it, and removed myself from the situation. I've pulled away greatly. In theory, I had no "reason" to pull away. I wasn't the snakey and manipulative one. I didn't betray trusts. I didn't talk crap behind peoples back. I didn't take advantage of some really wonderful people. I didn't seek out ways to hurt. I could have stood my ground, and instead made the other person feel all uncomfortable and awkward, which would have made her retreat, but that just isn't appealing to me. THAT is what would make me feel stubborn, childish, and a bit of a snob. Instead I put some distance up. Distance that isn't fair to the other women in the group, and my heart aches because of it, but distance that I had to put up for myself.

I don't want to be around people like that, I have zero desire to. I mean, if push comes to shove... I am an adult, and I can be cordial if a situations come up, but I'm not about to knowingly and openly invite those situations any longer. This person hurt me, time and time again. This person is going out of her way to continue slinging jabs at me, even now. This person has negatively talked about and manipulatively used and taken advantage of people I care about. She's a self involved liar ... and I have no interest, whatsoever, in being around her.

What does that mean? Just what I started this blog post with ... I am longing for a sisterhood. One with trust, with kindness, with respect, with love. One similiar to this ... a blog I frequent.

Pie in the sky? Perhaps ... but I wont give up the dream!

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Are Pigs Flying?

Is Hell Freezing Over?

Has Someone Learned the Art of Crapping Money?

No? Really, we're not in an alternate universe?

Then can someone PLEASE explain THIS to me ...



What? Huh? Err? Eh? HUH?!
ACCCCCCKKKKKKKKK!!!!!

Let me try to organize my thoughts really quickly about this.
Ummm... it sucks!
Yep, that about sums it up! lol

No, really, I love Favre. Always have ... Always will.
If he still feels he has game left in him, and theres a team out there willing to give him a field to play on, then by all means... Go Get Some, Brett!
But, the Vikings, seriously???
C'mon man!

I'm a cheesehead, through and through. I know everyone says this about their favorite sports team, but they're all liars, and I actually MEAN IT ... The Packers are MY TEAM!!! Good times, bad times... those are my boys, dammit ... MY BOYS!

My Boys have a sour apple in the bunch. He goes by the name of Ted Thompson. The weaselly little fuck of a guy who pushed Brett out... pressured him into early retirement and turned his back on him. I didn't like Thompson well before his and Bretts very publicized debacle occurred ... that dislike grew 10 fold after. It's a full blown hatred now. Though, sports hatred doesn't carry the same weight with it as actual "real life" hatred does, so no, I don't sit up nights wondering how I can get even with the slime ball! lol. Although, I have to say, the thought of Thompson being made to CHOKE on his choices does make me as giddy as a school girl talking to her crush ... and that image could very well play out this season, with good 'ol #4 behind center of the Vikings. The VIKINGS. Arch Rivals of my Pack! Brett could walk out onto that field and mop the floor (ahem, grass/dirt/mud ... or turf, as the case may be) with the Packers. Essentially shoving it straight down Thompsons egotistical throat! How do you like me now, Fucko?! In a very "Kiss My White Ass, Ball" kind of way.

Oooh, happy day!
I can hear the "Fire Ted Thompson" chants now!
Ahhh, bliss!!!

Can you imagine it being the other way around? Brett Favre gets BEAT by Thompsons "new team". The squirrely ass-nugget will be instantly glorified... validated in shoving Brett aside and moving on. Way.To.Fucking.Go Ted, Bravo! Bravo!

Yea, hand me a barf bag please!

#1 ... I love Brett. I hate, absolutely HATE the way he was treated by his former "family". I'm protective of the man (me, protective, hogwash! lol!!!) and I want the person who betrayed him to suffer the consequences of being such a colossal JACKASS! It's only right, right? He was pressured into retirement. Made to feel unwanted. Made to feel he was washed up and needed to call it quits. Made to feel it was time to pass the baton, ahem, pigskin onto his protege and step aside. Yes, it IS just a game, and if Thompson wanted to go in a different direction, then so be it. But fuck, don't play manipulative mind games with a man who gave you everything. Man up, grow a set, and let everyone know that YOU and YOU ALONE made the decision to steer away from Brett and head in another direction with your team. YOU no longer wanted Brett ... don't paint it the other way around. He shouldn't be able to get away with treating someone like that with nothing happening to him. Just shouldn't. I'm all about justice! Karma is a bitch! That Karma needs to strike quickly, before he's able to cause any more damage. Which leads me to numero dos:
#2 ...I fully believe my Pack would be a much better team with someone else up in that fancy office, and I also believe that if the Packers crumble this year, with 2 loses to the "Come Back, Kid" ... Thompsons termination could actually be a very real possibility.

Root against my team for the better of my team?
What?
No, that can't be right!

Again I say ... AAAACCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!

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Going Under the Knife *updated*

Surgery day is upon us... any positive thoughts, good vibes, prayers, etc that you can send up for my sweet boy will be much appreciated!
Will post an update here later...

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Surgery went well ... Owen is doing good.
He's tired an emotional from the anesthesia, but he's doing well.

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For those who have no idea what surgery I'm talking about...
He had surgery on a gliding / undescended testicle and a hernia.

When he was born, one of his testes was difficult to find. We were told to monitor it, and if at a year it was still undetectable, we'd discuss our options. Well, as far as I can remember, it was found. I know that sounds horrible... "as far as I can remember". I'm his Mother, right? I should know, right? But no, I can't be certain. I am certain, however, that his dr stopped worrying about it, and options were never discussed, so I have to assume that yes, we did find it. Right? Ugh, I don't know. I can't remember. Anyway, we noticed back in December that it was again (or still?) not descended. We had him looked at by a urologist, who found the testicle not too far up in his groin, was able to maneuver it down into the scrotum, but upon releasing it, it would quickly withdraw back up into the groin. He recommended surgery.

Me, being the anti-dr kind of person that I am, started researching. The difference between a gliding testicle and an undescended testicle. From what I read, a gliding testicle is able to be located and maneuvered down into the scrotum. Surgery is not recommended for gliding testicles, as they are only caused by a hyperactive cremaster muscle, and they very often will correct themselves during puberty. Upon further reading, I read that a gliding testicle, once maneuvered into the scrotum, should remain in the scrotum until that cremaster muscle is "tested" (ie... lightly brushing the inner thigh). Owens testicle would retreat immediately back into the groin after releasing it, without triggering the cremaster muscle, so it didn't *sound* like his was a gliding testicle ... but since surgery was involved, I wanted a second opinion anyway.

Second opinion ... surgery was recommended.

Can I just say, as demented as this might sound, I'm kind of glad there was a hernia that needed to be repaired (hernias are very common with undescended testicles). I was absolutely torn about whether or not to opt for the surgery until we found out about the hernia. In my mind, it turned from an optional procedure, into a necessary one... and that made all the difference.

So, now that you're all caught up... onto surgery day!

I was so nervous - Owen was hungry! lol
We had to wait for about 1 1/2 - 2 hours before they called us back to prep.

What do you do with some time to kill...


And when you get tired of doing the pulling...


Of course some pre-surgery snuggles with Mama are always in order...



They finally called us back. We spoke with the Dr. He again went over everything that was going to happen, what to expect, etc.

Owens stats were taken...


He dressed into his hospital gown...


and he took some pics with Mommy and Daddy...


We were in the prep room for about 45 minutes. One by one, we talked with each dr and nurse that would be in the operating room. Procedures explains, questions answered. We talked as a family, joked, laughed, snuggled ...
before one last brotherly hug was given...


and he was wheeled away...


About 2 second after this picture was taken - my tears were finally able to be released. It's not easy watching your baby being taken away. I've always had a compassionate heartache for Mothers that have had to endure such a scene ... it has grown 10 fold. Such strong, strong women!

2 hours. Surgery would take approx 2 hours. What was I supposed to do to stay occupied for TWO HOURS!!!
We went to a different area in the hospital so the other two boys could eat. We sat, talked, worried, and played while we waited for that special little beeper they gave us to go off and give us updates. The first time the beeper went off, I jumped and was looking around like "WTH is that"?! It took a good 30 seconds to actually pinpoint the sound, and make sense of it. 30 seconds doesn't sound like a lot of time, I know, but go ahead and set an alarm off and count to 30. It's not as fast as you'd think! lol.
The first alert was to tell us that surgery had started, and was going well.
Whew.
About an hour later, right after Nick took the other two boys to the bathroom, the beeper went off again. This time it only took about 2-3 seconds to realize what it was. Progress! lol.

surgery complete, please return to waiting room
is what the msg read.

My heart sank! I mean, it really sank hard.
"it has only been an hour. Wasn't it supposed to take 2?
What was wrong? What happened?
Why was surgery over so quickly?
OMG, what happened?
Nick, where is Nick?
We have to go NOW - where is NICK!?
In the bathroom, he's in the bathroom, Where.The.Hell is the bathroom"?

Yea, so, I wasn't really in a calm and collected state of mind, was I?

Nick and the boys came back from the bathroom, I already had everything packed up, and we went back to the waiting room. We sat in the consult area where the Dr came in to talk to us. He explained that surgery went very well. Owens hernia was quite bad (disected in two places), but everything went better then could be expected, and no recovery problems were anticipated.

Finally, after 20 minutes, they brought us back to our little monkey ... completely conked out. The nurse said he had just woken a minute ago, asked for a little water, and then fell right back asleep (before even getting the water). Poor sweetie. He was mostly sleeping for the next hour and a half in recovery, waking just for brief moments to shift, or see where he was...






It was finally time to go home!!!!!
We set him up in the hospital wagon...


and with Biggest Brother doing the pulling; off we went...


it was a tough ride...


Just a two hour drive, and we'll finally be home
He couldn't wait that long ...

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Surgery Looms

As Owens surgery date is on the horizon, we took a little time out tonight for a Mommy and Owen photo shoot, but first, pre-op instructions stated no food after midnight ... so he, of course, had to stuff his face right up until 11:59pm. He meant business! lol.

He's being so brave about surgery. Honestly, his biggest worry is him being hungry tomorrow and not being able to eat. Poor kid. It'll be hard, especially since we're 2hours from the hospital. Just means more awake time to think about his empty belly. Other then that, though, he's such a little trooper.

He's having surgery to fix a gliding testicle and a hernia.
I am so much more of a mess then he is. Doing a good job of putting on a happy face, and making sure I'm calm in front of him (don't want him become nervous because of me or the vibes I'm giving off) but behind closed doors - I'm a wreck! Not sure how blatantly obvious it is by reading my blog ... but I don't trust western medicine AT ALL! Me and Drs, yea, we don't so much get along. I mean, I'll use them for emergency situations, etc, but otherwise I keep my distance.

Having gotten all of that out of the way; onto the "Mommy-Owen Photo shoot"...

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Viva La Deutschland

Hubby just came down on orders to Germany...
What?!
More on this later!

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Dread-tastrophe... please pass the scissors, or not!

After some major meltdowns over my hair (yes, there have been more since my last blog), I decided I needed to do some serious soul searching. Inward reflecting. Figure out exactly why I was becoming so completely unglued over HAIR! What I discovered was... I am a completely screwed up soul at the moment! Ha!

My dreads were (are) so messed up. Seriously. The continuous dying that I spoke of here reallllly did a number on them. Not so much chemically speaking, but having to rub and manipulate my hair to rinse the color out, over and over again, my roots became extremely loose. 4-5 inches of undreaded root hair in some areas... of course with a big dreaded knot at the bottom of that, so it wasn't like I could just re-backcomb it. And we're not talking little "dreaded" knots either. We're not talking normal "2 week old baby dreads" that are still all soft, and can be pretty easily picked apart or combed out. Nope, of course not. Through all of my taking them apart, redoing them, taking them apart, redoing them - coupled with some powerful locking accelerator sprayed on ... they were pretty damn strong and sturdy. Fully knotted, spongy feeling, cylindrical dreads were formed.

I couldn't just leave well enough alone, could I?
I really loved my dreads, and I couldn't leave them alone!!!
Now, they're just a huge mess. A really huge mess.

I can't leave them alone now. Just can't do it. With all the loose roots, they keep "mating" together, and I just do NOT have 3 hours a day to work on untangling my dreads, so they don't fuse together to form one giant super dread!

Sooo... the messing continues.

Can't count how many times I had scissors in my hand, ready to just chop the effers right on out of there! Crying would begin before I would actually pull the trigger. I was feeling so completely out of control over something that I had complete control over ... my hair! Silly little trivial HAIR!

So what came of the soul searching, you ask? Other then reminding myself how utterly screwed up I am at present? Why couldn't I leave my hair alone? Why couldn't I cut it off? Why couldn't I STOP CRYING ABOUT IT?

You don't have to read too far into my blog to understand a little bit of my lost soul. My marriage is (has been) falling apart for the past 6 years. Our children are indirectly suffering because of it. Our pay is still all messed up. The military is getting ready to kick my husband out, and we have no idea what kind of (if any) compensation we will receive... so little things like knowing if we'll have a roof over our heads and food to eat are somewhat of a GIANT question mark in our very near future. I'm feeling so totally trapped... stuck. Not sure which way to turn, no clue on how to make things right. I'm not yet at a place where I'm able to take control back. I'll get there, I'm sure of it, just haven't yet. I feel so out of control regarding our situation. Delving into that is a whole 'nother blog post in itself. Bottom line - I don't feel in control of too many things right now.

My hair. THAT was something I could control. I could mess with it, and mess with it, and mess with it. No one could stop me. I kept seeing things wrong with my dreads (even the tiniest little "out of place" hair was so blown out of proportion in my mind), and decided if I could just get THAT fixed, they'd be perfect and I'd be happy. So I continued trying to fix and perfect. Only, each attempt was making it worse. The worse it got, the more desperate I became to "fix it". I couldn't quit. I couldn't give up. I had to make it right. I had to fix it.

I knew how crazy my hair was making me. I was crying. I was bitchy. I was spending WAY too much time trying to "fix it". Like I said, I decided time and time again to just cut it off, because at least then it would be gone, and I would stop obsessing about it. Only even the thought of cutting it off seemed to set me deeper into my meltdown. I couldn't do it. I couldn't cut it off. That would be me quitting. Admitting defeat. Failing! I couldn't do that. I couldn't let myself fail.

What I came to realize is that I had projected so much of my life onto my hair, fixing my hair meant fixing my life ... failure to fix my hair meant failure with everything else ... my marriage, my children, my life. Failure wasn't an option I would be able to accept, though I wasn't realizing I would feel like I was failing at the time. I couldn't figure out why I was so feeling so bad. This thing, this hair, had caused so much turmoil - why couldn't I just cut it off, get rid of it. Why was the thought of that making me feel worse. It seemed the more I tried to make myself take the scissors and start snipping, the more awful I felt. I wasn't acknowledging WHY I was feeling so obsessive and unhappy. I hadn't yet connected the dots. I was thinking I was absolutely off my rocker. WHY was I letting my HAIR make me so upset.

When I finally stopped to breathe, I realized how little it all had to do with my hair. My hair situation just happened to be a prime dumping ground for everything I was feeling about, well, everything.

As soon I realized that, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. Ahhh... I'm not crazy. I'm not some trivial vain bitch who cries because her hair isn't perfect. It was never about my hair! I'm crazy because of many other things... my hair not being one of them! Ha!!

So, my soul feels better. Not great, not even good, but better. I feel lighter. More calm; More peace.

What does that mean for my dreads? Through it all, I royally effed them up... I mean, seriously so. Hubby and I are going through the long process of combing them out (and since our pay is STILL not fixed, we can't afford the dread remover cream, so "combing them out" for us consists of dipping my head in a vat of oil, and then taking an hour to try and loosen up ONE dread - losing 1/2 of my hair in the process. Hubby is much better at taking his time to gently pull them apart strand by strand, so I'm not losing hair at all anymore. Good man!). I could still just shave it off (it's actually something I really would like to experience one day ... I just can't do it now. Can't admit dread defeat yet. I might understand my obsessive behavior better now, but I'm not completely cured) I'm not feeling desperate about the situation any longer. I'm not feeling an obsessive need to fix them, and FIX THEM NOW, or I'll be deemed a quitter (by myself) and the entire process will just be screwed F.O.R.E.V.E.R.!!! I have half of my head still dreaded (super long loose roots and all), and the other half is combed out, quite fashionable, no?! lol.

If my hair isn't too thin after all the combing out, I do believe I'll be re dreading it again. Maybe not immediately, but I think soon. I think I'll feel better about my situation with them then I would without them, if that makes any sense to any of you non crazy people?! Of course, taking a loooong break from the process may be the more healthy route to take, instead of continuing to hold onto the feelings of being a quitter and a failure, but I don't think that's me. I just feel I'll be able to work through my issues a little easier if my dreadlock dream being squashed, by my own hand, isn't something that is weighing on my mind. Maybe not, who knows!

Plus, if my soul has been opened up this much in just 2 weeks of the "emotional dreadlocks journey" ... what else is in store for me? I don't know, but I don't think I want to miss it!

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