allergic to indiana?

For about three weeks, I have been itchy. I wake up itchy. I go to bed itchy. I have always been an itchy/rashy girl, but through the last three weeks, I've become itchy/rashy/hive-y girl.

I went to the CVS Minute Clinic (kind of a cool concept, by the way) two weeks ago because I was becoming a little crazy from the i/r/h issue. The doc prescribed a round of steroids to help immediately with the discomfort. Now that I'm tapering off of the steroids, I'm starting to feel i/r/h again. Dammit!

So today I want back to the doctor and after we sat and talked about every possibility (seriously, we talked about stress and laundry detergent and lactose intolerance and vitamins and just about every other medication I have taken for the last seven or so years) and this is what we came up with: I'm probably allergic to Indiana.

Okay, so she didn't really say that, but she did say that my system may very well be in shock after living in Denver for ten years and then coming back to the chigger capital of the world. Ugh. I love it when they just say, "buck up, Camper."

i am so blessed

I used to wonder how Bug and I would do...just the two of us. But we do pretty well. I'm proud of who we are together, most of the time. Sure, we have our moments and I know I lose patience (last night, in fact), but for the most part we do things pretty well.

It seems true that it gets a little easier as they get older (until puberty, I suppose) or maybe it's just that we've been in one place for almost a year now and we have a pretty good system. Regardless the reason, I woke up today thinking about how blessed I am to have the wonderful girl that I do. She's sweet and funny and lives life at full volume. 

So here's a shout out to the universe today: THANKS.

a truly tormented soul

Part of my job is to provide online coursework for students in locked-down facilities. These are really, really troubled kids: sex offenders, mentally ill teens, drug-addicted kiddoes. I have recently begun spending a little more focused time at a mental health hospital because a group of girls there got really excited about some of the work they could do online. I think it served a couple of purposes: allowed them to stay on track academically and the coursework was constructed in such a way to be somewhat therapeutic for them as well.

In the past few weeks, I've met with these girls for lunch (one day they were on restriction and could only use their fingers to eat their food), to talk about their coursework, but also just to develop a connection. They truly are some tortured souls and it's been interesting to get to know them.

I got a call last night that one of "my girls" took her life. She's gone. I thought she would turn a corner, but today she is gone. I'm sad for her family and friends and for the kids who live around her, for they must feel - more than any of us - what it means to feel so tormented. If you think of it, say a prayer...

on getting older and hoping to be more authentic

I've spent a lot of time in recent months trying to reflect on this little life 'o mine...on the mistakes I've made, the people I've hurt, the games I've played. The results of my reflection? I just want to be more, well, ME.

I like who I am, for the most part. Sure, I could lose 30 (or more) pounds. I could get into great physical shape. My teeth could be whiter and I could probably benefit from some wrinkle cream (or whatever you call it). I think I'm fun to be around and I like to have fun. Most of my days feel relatively positive in nature and laughter is - for me - better medicine than anything (although rainbow sherbet really does fix a lot). So what would I change? Should? Could?

I want to be a person of integrity. I want to be honest. I want to be open while maintaining a certain amount of privacy. I want to act in such a way that every day I can put my head on the pillow and feel like I did what was best, and good, and right. For me. And for my daughter.

How is this different than the past? Well, I've always managed to get caught up in all that is right and good for me, with LOTS of what's good for the people around me mixed in. I'm a good friend and I love those who are closest to me, but I've lost myself in all of that. And I'm finally beginning to find me again. And I kind of like me.

So, here's to authenticity. Here's to starting new and to being honest, open and full of integrity. May the pieces finally come together.

secrets

I've kept some secrets in my day. In fact, I've kept lots of secrets. But upon lots of reflection in my life, I'm not doing that anymore. I'm just not going to hide and if people don't like it, well, fuck 'em.

There are so many things I kept from my parents because I was afraid it would hurt them, or cause them stress, or worry. Then yesterday I found myself sitting at the kitchen table with my mom and she actually said "gay." I'm quite sure it took a lot of courage for her to say that and I have decided that if she's willing to go there, so am I.

And, after all, if I have my family's support, who cares what anyone else thinks.

No more secrets.

perfect peanut butter picnic

We had amazing weather in Indianapolis on Sunday. Bug wanted a picnic and promptly set her Pooh blanket right smack dab in the front yard. I thought the back might be a little more private, but she opted for the action out front. We ordered pizza for our picnic feast, but she couldn't wait and somehow, some way managed to find three jars of peanut butter to consume as an appetizer. That's my girl.

It's not Photoshop, people.

Most people who have seen that picture of me and Hill (I call her Hill now) think it's fake. It's not. I mean, I see how they might think that, but really, my Photoshop skills aren't that strong. Plus, I don't really have time to CREATE a picture of me and Hillary. So I'll post the other picture - the one where she looks like she might just possibly notice my presence. But barely. If I were Hill, I'd want that picture posted everywhere. Next to me, she looks so SKINNY!

She's totally ignoring me...ignore my bad hair.