The Doctors

Most of my friends don't realize that in my heart of hearts, I am a hypochondriac. Everytime something twinges or feels funny, I am pretty sure I have cancer. When I had problems with a skin rash after Asa was born, I was relieved to find out my possible cancer was eczema. And when my tailbone was acting up, I was happy to find out I didn't have bone cancer. I have no idea why I am like this, but I just add it to the quirky things that make me, me. Only twice did I know I did not have cancer. When I had post-partum, I knew it was post-partum. The very first sign of cancer is NOT anxiety, or at least as far as I know. And when I had chest pains, I switched my diagnosis to a heart attack, which it was not. When I was rear-ended, I went forward into the seat belt, essentially hitting all the muscles in my chest.
So this time the "cancer" was in my knee, and slowly traveling down my leg to make my foot cramp. Guess what? I have loose knee caps that wiggle around when they aren't suppose too. What this means is limited squatting and more exercise to beef up my quad muscles in my thigh so the cap doesn't have the space to move around. Eventually I may need surgery but if I take care of myself now, that can be postponed till I am older, like 70. This "condition" is common, and very common in women. So why am I noticing it now if I have had these my whole life? I weigh more than high school (although weight is not huge factor because I am not over weight), I do different activities, and I have a young son that I am squatting to lift (lift with your knees not with your back, etc.). I chalk it up to the fact that I am slowly disinteregrating. Bad back, bad knees, screwy tailbone-I sound like the poster child for Motrin. This time what set my knee off was my gardening last week. See, exercise can be bad for you.
To top it off, I have gained 5 pounds. I am not distrubed about the 5 pounds itself-weight fluctates. However, it is the start of the path to the darkside, to quote Star Wars, and I am making sure to stick to the no treats at night rule. 10 days and counting.

Just a quick note to let everyone know I changed the name of my blog. Now that I get what this is, sort of, I realized that "Beam Me Up" was not a joke everyone would get, and not really how I wanted to represent myself. I often mis-quote Mother Theresa, but her meaning to me was profound-you can't change the whole world but you can change your part of it-and I truly believe that. It takes the pressure off, of having to save the world, but it keeps me responsible for making wise decisions, and impacts, close to home.
So Dena's Corner? For those of you with good memories, Loggins & Messina had a song about Winnie-The -Pooh and some of the lyrics mention Pooh Corner. If it is good enough for singers and fictional bears, it is good enough for me.

My warm coat of flab

I don't diet. Let me get that out there. The word is DIE with a T. What kind of inspiration that? But I have noticed a few Lbs., or pds. if you prefer, have creeped their way onto my persons. There is a saying that all good dogs go to heaven. Well, all good chocolate bars go to my butt. No offense to those you trying to diet, but I believe that diets are a waste of my time and it is really about healthy living. I can't deny myself the good stuff. It isn't meth and I am not driving drunk. In that contex, a little candy isn't much. But even I know that too much isn't all that great and there are some things I could be doing to help myself out. So, on that note, I just had night 5 of NO SNAKCING AFTER DINNER!!! Clap for me. This has been my downfall. Asa and Nick both go to bed around 9:30pm and I head to the remote (the only time of day I get to touch it) and eat one candy bar as a reward for keeping my sanity one more day. Sleeping after snacking is a huge no-no. Apprantly just the act of going upstairs to bed isn't enough to burn off all the calories loaded in a kit kat bar. Damn, that's a shame. So even though everything that tastes good starts screaming my name around 8:00p, I ignore it and remind myself that I don't have a "no candy" rule for the afternoon. Another goal I have is to drink more water. Not only are there NO calories in water but it is just damn good for you. As my midwife said when I told her I had Gatorade but not much water, she said "Gatorade is Gatorade, it's not water." Plus water is cheaper than any sports drink out there and as my husband told my mother one day, "drink all you want, we have it on tap." My third goal is to exercise more. I am failing miserably at this, although, if I had a nickel for everytime I THOUGHT about walking, I would be retired right now. With Asa a little older, and the weather a little better, this has become my next goal. Again, way cheap to accomplish, and much more satisfying than having to go to the mall again and shop for a larger size of pants (refer to previous blog). As I get good at these things, I will set a new goal for myself. I have several in mind including better cooking and less going out to fast food, but these things take baby steps. I take heart that Rome was built in a day and my butt won't shrink in one day either.

A tribute to Mr. Falwell

I have a lot of thoughts on my mind-that is what happens when you have a short attention span. But what I keep going back to is the passing of Jerry Falwell. For those who know me, you know I am being charitable when I say we had a difference of opinion. And I won't pick apart the dead. Jerry Falwell had family that is grieving right now. For them, I feel bad. But when I read the glowing tributes paid to him, someone said that Jerry Falwell had the ability to work with, and unite, people of all backgrounds. I am sorry, but I think the person who said that, and I don't remember who it was, smokes crack. Jerry Falwell's goal in life was to pass legislation requiring we all live like him. At least that is how I sum up his life's work, and I fail to see how that unites people. Mother Theresa was a person who worked with all different types of people and despite the vast differences in us, I admire her enormously. Hey, she walked the talk and that is an extremely difficult thing to do. But Jerry Falwell's fiery speeches and off the cuff remarks did not endure him to a large segment of the population and that includes me. I can relate to Mr. Falwell though-I want the world to be my way too. If I ruled the world, here is what I would change-
*Christmas would be the third Friday of every December and it would be a national holiday.
*Christmas, Memorial Day, and Labor Day would be actual holidays that EVERYONE got off and not just those of us in the right job. You can shop or eat out another day.
* Paris Hilton would be working a real job, and hating it.
*Public transportation would be free, in every city.
*People who hurt and mistreat children will be sent to prison and actually pay for their crimes. In prison they will be forced to listen to Dr. Lara ALL DAY LONG.
*Families of all types would be honored-no more empty legislation that is suppose to "help" (curfews don't do any good unless it is safe for kids to go home, speed zones in front of schools enforcable at midnight are good because...)
*Professions that help people (police, teachers, mental health workers, fireman, social service workers, etc.) would get the salaries they deserve.
*Chocolate would be free and passed out like condoms.
*The people who agree with war, any war, have to be the ones who fight in it, even if they are a politician.

I can think of more things but I think that is a good start. I guess the moral of the story is I have more in common with Jerry Falwell than I thought, but I still disagree with the commentator who said Mr. Falwell, brought people together. We do not have to agree with everyone else, we do not have to live like everyone else, and we don't even have to like everyone else. But demanding that people be just like us, is not the way to unite everyone else.

Camping

Camping was awesome! Asa ran himself ragged, I got to chill by the fire, and we all enjoyed marshmellows. But it got me thinking-why do I love to camp? I never sleep well, I hate being dirty and smelly, and the work of getting all packed up, and then unpacked when you get home, can be daunting. Sometimes it almost feels like self-torture. What brings me joy however, is a campfire at night. Sitting around the ol' flames, looking up at the stars, and talking with friends seems to be what draws me again and again. It is magical at night as the sparks fly up to join their brethern, the twinkly stars. Of course this being Oregon, the twinkly stars can be few and far between but I love the concept, and it makes me happy when it actually happens. Camping also gives us a chance to sit back and take a breather from daily life. There are few people that love tv more than me. I could actually zone out by it all day long and not even blink. But the thought of my ass growing to the dimensions of a couch cushion scare me, and I do not want my son to know the lyrics to "Friends" before he can sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. Camping makes us interact in ways we don't have the opportunity to at home. For example, this weekend at our campsite, they had a little museum we went to and learned about history. At 18 months, Asa did not read all the signs. But he had great fun playing with the giant boat steerer thingy (that's latin, trust me) and he touched different animal furs. We learned about "soft". We also learned about the heat of a campfire but that experience was a little more scary. And mommy re-learns what's really important. As much as we love the luxuries of our home, the reality is we can live without a lot. I DON"T WANT TOO LIVE WITHOUT A LOT. I like my soft bed, instant heat, flushable toilet, and constant warm water. But it is always good to remember that things are luxuries, and if my ancestors could live without them, so could I if I had too. I want my son to know this too-as much as our home is a joy, we need to remember how lucky we are to have all the wonderful things that we do. I don't know if he got all that this weekend, but at 18 mos. it was enough to hear mommy giggle when he got ketchup all over himself and chase him with a washcloth. Those little legs can sure hustle when he wants them too!