Today was my first day back to work. I know I said in an earlier post that I was not going to be so sad.

I lied!

I missed my babies something awful. It was nice to see my colleagues but I’d rather be home playing superheroes, potty training, and swimming.

And of course, my period should have arrived 7 days ago. I was all prepared for it, but it had another plan. A diabolical plan! The bloating started yesterday. So I currently look about 8 months pregnant. The backache started 2 days ago, and as I drove home, the cramps began. Tomorrow, there will be a bunch of students needing direction and support, and I’ll be secretly dying. Tonight, my kids just want me to play but my uterus feels like it may fall out.

This is why I’m convinced that my body hates me.

Since I’m back to work, I figured its a good time to really focus on what I put in my body and how much I actually move my body during the course of the day. So back to diligent tracking and I bought myself a fitbit.

I love it! It’s like a pedometer on steroids. It tracks my steps, my stairs, calories burned, and even my sleep patterns. Did you know that you’re supposed to walk 10,000 steps a day!!??!! I’m working my way up. Oh, and I lost a few ounces this past week. Big freaking deal!

Here’s a little update…1st day of school with students and I’m well over my 10,000 step mark and I walked 5 miles today!!

When I was a lot younger, I never gave much thought to having a sister.  When I got a little bit older, I was somewhat envious until I witnessed my two older cousins go at like Rocky IV and Ivan Drago!

I was happy that I was the only girl, in my immediate family.  I had two older cousins (the boxers) who treated my like their lil’ sis, and I had two younger cousins, that were more like my little sisters. I also have the two bestest friends a girl could ask for.  (They are so completely different and awesome.)

So, it wasn’t until recently that I began to really think about the whole “sister’ thing.  You see, people often ask my husband and I when we’re having another child.  We tell them politely that we’re happy with our family and we won’t be having any  more children.  I really don’t feel like explaining how difficult it is for us to conceive, and how depressed it makes me, and how my deliveries are awful and how depressed I am afterwards. (Maybe I should have business cards made up that detail my disease and how it relates to my fertility on the front, and then when they flip it over it can read,”Happy now? Next time, mind your fucking business!”)   Yet every time I’m asked, I feel this guilty ache in the pit of my stomach.  Wouldn’t it be nice for my son to have a brother, a partner in crime, a best man?  Wouldn’t it be wonderful for my daughter to have a sister, a confidant, a maid of honor?  Then I see the two of them together and realize they have all of those “people,” the gender roles are just a little skewed.

(Please don’t mind the husband’s hairy Spartan leg!)

Growing up, I was the street hockey goalie so my brothers could practice.  I spent more than what would be considered a normal amount of time at hockey rinks. I watched WWF and football games. I wrestled with “my buddy” dolls, and helped to catch frogs.  My brothers were also subjected to being my “students” when we played school, and there may have been an occasional make-up tutorial here and there.

When I’m in full panic mode, I call my brothers.  When I have awesome news, I call my brothers.  When I’m sick, I call my brothers.  When I need someone, I call my brothers.  They always answer.  They always listen.  They always come when I need them.  I of course do the same.  They know all about my PCOS, my exploding ovaries,and  my horrible Satan created periods. I have been there during births of my nieces, moments of uncertainty, break-ups, psycho girlfriend problems, divorce, news of new jobs, dreams being achieved, and new plans being hatched.  I don’t think a sister could offer me anything that my brothers don’t already give me.  Trust me, our relationships haven’t always been perfect, but I love them both and I would be lost without them, and so wouldn’t my kids.

Cherish your family!

P.S. weight stayed the same this week.

A lot has happened this past week, well this past summer.  Most of the “eventful things” have been large and expensive.  As appliances and more continue to break and require more and more money that we just don’t have, so did I. I was breaking.  My 5-year-old son told me, “Ma, you always look sad, even when you laugh.” That’s heartbreaking.  My heart literally felt bruised.  I don’t want to look or feel sad anymore.  So today….I went under!

After cleaning our pool out (our still leaking pool,) I decided that I’d stay in and play for a while, even though I told my darlings that I really didn’t feel like swimming today.  My son jumped in and splashed me and immediately began apologizing for getting my face and hair wet. I casually replied, “it’s no big deal bud, it’s just water.”  Well you would have thought that Santa Claus himself had landed his 8 reindeer-ed sleigh on our back deck.  He looked at me with utter disbelief, shook his head a little, and proceeded to swim to the ladder so he could jump in again.  Feeling a little brave, he then said to me, “Ma it’s too bad you don’t like going underwater.”  Again, my answer stunned him.  “I actually love going under the water.  I used to swim every day.”  Braver still, he whipped his goggles off, tossed them at me, and said, “here use these so your contacts don’t float away.” So I did.  I put the goggles on and explored  around under the water till my little heart was content.  The smile on his face fixed my bruised heart.

With less than 2 weeks vacation time left, this is usually the time of the summer when I cry non-stop, and become totally jealous of all the moms that can afford to stay-at-home.  (I know people always say, well if you make sacrifices, and cut back, then you could stay home too.  Let me tell you, that’s not the case here.  If I didn’t work, we’d be sacrificing our home, we’d be homeless.  So before you ever utter those words to a working mother, think before you open your big, stupid, disillusioned mouth.)  This summer, I’m sad and optimistic.  My son will be starting full-day kindergarten.  He loved school last year, and I’m looking forward to him being able to play and interact  with kids his own age, while learning new things.  My daughter loves her daycare provider and the kids there.  I love that she’s able to play and learn with her friends.  There have been pretty big changes at my work, and though this year is going to be different and challenging, I’m looking forward to new opportunities. I know the kids and  I would much rather be home together, but like I said before, we need my income, and both of my kids love their “schools” and playing with their friends.  So, I’m hoping for way less tears this first day back to school.

Oh, I lost the two pounds that I had gained during my weekend of reckless abandonment. I’m pretty much stuck in a holding pattern (See Cindy Fitzgibbon, I do listen!) I keep losing and gaining the same 8 pounds.  I know that once back to work, the pace of my day will be a lot faster.  I’m thinking of buying a fitbit. (Look it up!    http://www.fitbit.com)

September is PCOS awareness month.  I’ll be posting Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome related facts throughout the month. It’s not one of those fake “this is blah blah blah awareness week/month Facebook posts.” How can one disease/issue have so many different awareness times of the year?  It’s annoying!

September is the official awareness month for PCOS all around the world.

I seem to have fallen off the horse again.  I NEED to get back on it!!

I had an extremely over-indulgent weekend, and this honey badger don’t care! (if you don’t know what that means, look up honey badger don’t care on you tube!)

I did care, I cared a lot.  I cared so much that I started to research weight loss surgery options.  Turns out, I don’t have any options.  My insurance believes that my BMI isn’t high enough to warrant coverage for the surgery.  I guess it’s for the best.  I want to lose my chubba bubba the old fashion way.  I think women who do have weight loss surgery are extremely brave, and after 2 c-sections, I think any more cutting across my abdomen would be very bad and wicked painful.

We went to Kowloon on Friday with my husband’s god-daughter to feast on Saugus wings in honor of her mom. (Tina loved her some Saugus wings!) I planned for this dinner.  I ate nothing.  I sucked down water like there was an impending drought forecasted.  I watched my portions and only sampled things.  Then we went to Zynga’s frozen yogurt.  Holy Shit!!! That place is beyond amazing.  The fresh fruit is soo fresh, and the other toppings are infinite (so it seems anyway.) It is definitely my new favorite place. I was well-behaved there as well.  I only squirted a little yogurt in my cup and added tons of fresh fruit and nuts.

On Saturday, we all went to Canobie Lake with my bro’s family. We had  a lot of fun, minus the thunder, lightning, and off and on downpours.  I had some soft-serve, a bite of fried dough, and some popcorn. Then on Sunday, my brother and the family came up for a swim.  He brought hotdogs, hamburgers, chicken, and snackies.  My brother also cooked all the food he brought.  Oh, I need to let you all know that I tried ( and the important word here is tried) to eat a Thin and Trim chicken hotdog from Market Basket.  Even burnt to hell on the grill, put in a bun and covered with ketchup and mustard, it still tasted like, well it tasted like what I assume chicken shit would taste (Thanks Bill!)     Oh, I neglected to mention that my hubby got up early and prepared a 5 course breakfast!  So, as you can see, my weekend was one food trap after another.  I thought I did pretty good at only “sampling” the bad stuff.  But, my scale sees things differently.

When I confessed to my husband that I cheated and weighed myself on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, he very calmly said to his hysterical wife, “you’re most likely retaining water.”  I shooed him away.  Then I did a little research.  I drank like a fish on Friday.  Then ate sodium laced Chinese food.  I didn’t really drink a lot of water on Saturday or Sunday.  My research informed me that my body was most likely holding onto fluid, and I was probably dehydrated.  IT (the internet) also told me that if I gain more than 1/2 pound in 24 hours, it’s most likely fluid.  So, back to making sure I drink enough water to keep me hydrated and feeling full.

A year ago today, someone I love passed away. Left behind are 4 amazing children, their loving dad,  2 very understanding and supportive  fiances , an adorably rambunctious grandson, a nephew with arms big enough to hug them all and an even bigger heart to love them with, and a ton of family and friends who miss her and still question why? Tina I hope you have found some peace and look down in awe of your family.

Miss you Tina

Have you ever just felt like, “Fuck it. Just fuck it all!” I found myself sinking in the Swamp of Sadness this past Sunday. Yup there I am, Artax the horse, just giving up!

I do not know what triggered it, but my mind went into overdrive and I started to analyze every aspect of my life. I realized that I’m just not a naturally happy person. Of course, the root of all of this unhappiness is money or lack of money, and my feelings towards my own body. I grew up thinking that worrying was a normal way of life. I truly do not know how to not worry. Every moment of the day, my brain is recycling problems, things that need to be fixed, bills that need to be paid, plans that need to be planned!!! It’s pure hell in that brain of mine.

Years ago at a friend of the family’s wedding, my father looked at me with loving eyes, and very sweetly and sincerely said, “Your mother and I have been talking and we think you should start smoking pot.” Uh, OK, thanks Mom and Dad.

Don’t misunderstand, I am happy some of the time. When I smile, laugh, or giggle, it’s real. It’s just that that bitch stress is always there trying to ruin everything. I’d like to think that if I woke up tomorrow wealthy and skinny, my life would be so much better and all the worrying and stress would be gone. I don’t think that would happen.

A) I’m not related to anyone stinking rich that may kick the bucket and leave me tons of cash, nor do I play the lottery on a regular basis.

B) Unless God himself comes down and gives me a “Clueless Makeover” times 10, the skinny thing ain’t happening overnight.

C) My brain is hard-wired to worry.

So, after some encouraging words from a friend, and a heart-to-heart with my husband, (who reiterated that I am the only one who can make myself happy) I decided it was time to choose to be happy. I also realized that choosing to be happy doesn’t mean that I need to be happy all of the time. It’s OK to worry about our financial future, it’s not OK to agonize over every bill, write and re-write monthly budgets, or cry. It’s OK to get a little irritated by my two children who think it’s Armageddon if I’m not in their line of sight. It’s not OK to go all Mommy Dearest on their cute little asses, or cry. It’s OK to want to better myself, get healthy, and get my MILF on. It’s not OK to loathe my body, allow myself to slip into a massive depression, become so stressed that I’m mean to everyone who crosses my path, or cry. I have a lot to work on! And a lot less crying to do!

On a happier note, 1 more pound gone this week!

Have a stress-free day!

I focused on getting moving today.  I had all intentions of getting up and exercising to a cardio kickboxing segment on demand.  My son and I watched a little of it last night and he was very excited to join me in the AM. (I was a Tae Bo pro!!) However, my daughter had other plans.  She woke up about the same time we did, and it would have been almost impossible for all 3 of us to kick-box in my not-so-spacious living room.

We had breakfast and I got the kids dressed.  You should have seen the startled looks on their little faces. Our lazy summer routine has been more like: crawl out of bed, go downstairs, play and watch “backpack” (Dora the Explorer) and maybe an episode of Ninjago, decide what’s for breakfast, eat breakfast, decide what to do (usually swim in the pool), then go swimming.  So you could imagine their surprise when I came down the stairs dressed and holding their clothes.  I filled the water bottles, my son grabbed his scooter and helmet, and we were off.  We walked to the local college campus to hunt giant bullfrogs, feed frenzied fish, and search for lazy turtles sunning themselves on rocks.

The scooter didn’t last long.  The helmet came off, I lugged the scooter and my son set off jogging. (I was so proud of him.  He ran the entire way!)  My darling, very independent daughter, who usually fights me like there’s no tomorrow about sitting in the carriage, was happy to be pushed around while she shouted out the name of every object she saw! After our walk,we made some lunch and headed to the back yard for some swimming.  Needless to say, there was not one single moan or groan about going to bed tonight.

Today was a good day!

Yesterday, I spent some time with an old friend, a friend I only get to see every 2 years.  I am in awe of her- her courage, her strength, her independence.  Just being around her is inspirational. She has a way of opening your eyes, mind and heart, and she always makes me feel better about myself.

“Surround yourself with only people who raise you higher.”

I realized that not only do I want to surround myself with people who inspire, support, and challenge me, but I want to be that person to others, especially my children.  When I started this blog, it was about overhauling me, all of me.  I want to be a better person.  I want to be a better role model for my children.  I want to inspire.

I know that this picture has been making the rounds on Facebook and Pinterest, but my friend reminded me that no matter what I do to transform my body, my body has been forever changed and I should be proud of it.

Inspire Someone Today!

This is a warning to my two very supportive brothers, and possibly my cousin Bernie (as far as I know, they are the only males that read this, except for my husband who lives with me and will not be offended by the mention of menstruation,) I am about to detail what my body goes through on a monthly basis.  You may want to skip this one!

Most women get their period every month.  Thanks to a diabetic medication (I do not have diabetes.  I actually produce too much insulin) I also usually get a monthly visit. My cycles usually average 30-35 days.  When they go longer, my periods are like a category 4 instead of the usual category 2. Imagine violently shaking a 2 liter of coke, that is what I feel like inside.  Bloating is a gross understatement, cramps don’t begin to explain what I’m feeling, and my ovaries literally build up enough pressure that they explode, (I’ll get back to this in a minute.) The worst part of all of this is the PMS. Imagine your typical woman suffering with PMS, then multiply that by let’s say 30! I can feel my patience disappear and frustration increase. I know that I’m going to snap at my kids and take my husband’s head off, but I cannot stop myself.  I hate how I feel after I’ve been a complete bitch and I still cannot stop.  This month has been very bad. In fact, I very much resemble this:

Getting back to the severe ovarian pain that I have been experiencing for the past two years.  (This doesn’t happen every cycle.  I’d say 3 out 4 cycles.) Here’s some background info.  (Again, probably TMI for some.)

The ovaries, where a woman’s eggs are produced, have tiny fluid-filled sacs called follicles or cysts. As the egg grows, the follicle builds up fluid. When the egg matures, the follicle breaks open, the egg is released, and the egg travels through the fallopian tube to the uterus (womb) for fertilization. This is called ovulation.

In women with PCOS, the ovary doesn’t make all of the hormones it needs for an egg to fully mature. The follicles may start to grow and build up fluid but ovulation does not occur. Instead, some follicles may remain as cysts. For these reasons, ovulation does not occur and the hormone progesterone is not made. Without progesterone, a woman’s menstrual cycle is irregular or absent. Plus, the ovaries make male hormones, which also prevent ovulation.

Normal ovary and polycystic ovary

AND REMEMBER…..

(This post has an R rating- inappropriate adult language.)

I have returned from a fun, somewhat relaxing vacation to:

a broken, algae filled pool (and of course it’s going to be hotter than hell this week!)

a working, but not working correctly, dryer

a stack of bills

an order form for my son’s school uniforms (really?!?! normal clothes do not cost this much)

a mouse head, after my serial killer cats, Micky and Mallory decapitated it

and the best of all….my husband’s truck is back in the shop looking at a bill of $1000 or more.  Mind you, we just paid $500 to service it and fix a few small things before we left.

Now, we all know that my hormones are a jumbled mess thanks to the PCOS.  I am a walking ball of stress most days.  And, I don’t handle stress all that well. I get angry, I cry, I yell!  (Weird side notes, this does not happen to me at work.  I have always been able to handle my shit no matter what job I was doing, even when I was a social worker in hell. I am also pretty adept at dealing with other people’s’ stress.)

So I think I may have this tattooed on me somewhere or at least make up a t-shirt, as this is what you will all be hearing from here on out. I apologize in advance for my profound rudeness.

I’m just tired of hearing everyone say, “Oh it will work out, It will get better…” Please don’t get me wrong.  I fully know that we are much better off than others.  God has blessed me with an amazing family and friends, a nice home, and a job.  We’re all healthy for the most part, and trying to get healthier! I do not take any aspect of my life for granted.  It’s just that little annoyances that cost a shitload of money add up and when there’s just not enough money coming in, one tends to stress out and break every once in a while.  I’m currently breaking, so please disregard this rant.

Whew….I’m so glad that’s out of my system.

I’m back to tracking my food, drinking oceans of water, and peeing like there’s no tomorrow. I have also added some herbal supplements to help counteract some of the PCOS symptoms.  I am determined to feel better about myself. I’m determined to try to let things out of my control go. I’m determined to manage our finances in a smarter manner, and I need to believe that we will get out of the hole we put ourselves in. Perhaps this should be my new motto:

Just breathe……………

Oh, I almost forgot. Last night I made the roasted chick peas that are mentioned in my favorite recipe section.  They were a huge hit! The kids and the hubby loved them. If you Google them, there are a ton of different spices you can use.