Wonderful Vacation...Now, Back To Reality

Today marks my first (somewhat) full week back at work. It's weird and I'm not thrilled about it. It's so hard to come back. It used to be that I would vacation and, around the fifth day or so, I'd be ready to get back to it. Not so much. I could have vacationed another month or two. Seriously! I did not want to come back. I think I'm no longer cut-out for career mode, working, the rat-race, whatever. Hubby thinks I should focus efforts on my writing and I'm considering it seriously. Of course, I still have to pay bills. Can't up and quit my job (God, don't I wish!). Lol!

Can you believe July is nearly here? Where did June go? The summer is racing along at NASCA.R speeds. What is up?

You Thrilled Me

I can't let this day go by without commenting on one of the greatest (albeit eccentric) entertainers of all time. My first encounter with the King of Pop was second grade. I had a little record player that I played 45s on, mainly record/book combos. I remember finding the Off the Wall album in my parents collection and, even though my player sometimes skipped the best parts, I learned every song on that album. I envisioned myself meeting this amazing singer one day (who didn't live very far from me).

By third grade, I was rocking my Thriller cassette nearly as much as my Off the Wall album. He was the greatest to everyone in my class. No one had anything negative to say about Michael Jackson. I remember the red jackets that adorned several of my male classmates and there wasn't one soul who didn't yearn for a sparkling glove. Good or bad, right or wrong, the impact he made upon our world will last forever. I hope you find the peace in death that you couldn't find in life, Michael. Rejoice, for you are free.

Total Drama, but We're Here!

Wednesday afternoon after work was probably one of the hardest afternoons of my life. Next to leaving my first born at the hospital after I was discharged, this is probably next in line. I can't get into all the details because they are not my details to share. I will just say this; I am not opposed to chemical castration. It's a good thing we were going on vacation the next day. I really needed it.

At 4:30am Thursday morning, my household was busy with everyone skittering around, getting ready to leave. We left around 5:20am (really wishing we'd left at 5:00am). No matter. We arrived at the airport in plenty of time, found a space next to the shuttle stop and hopped on, headed for the terminal. We made it...to a line that looked about a mile long. We were fortunate, though. People must be getting more savvy about the airline kiosks. The line moved along quickly and we were done checking in within about ten minutes.

We boarded our South.West flight to Denver with ease. Settled into our unreserved seats and had a good ole time for about an hour. Hubby, with the girls and me on an aisle seat across from him by myself. Sweet! In Denver, we grabbed breakfast at McDonald's then hoped on our next flight to Orlando. Two hours and 44 minutes later, we were still circling the airport. Why? Oh, a massive storm just happened to hit a few minutes before our arrival. Any lighting seen within five miles of an airport and the airport gets closed. Did you know that? We didn't either.

Running out of gas at 10,000 feet is not cool, so off to Fort Myer for a fill-up. We hung around their airport, in the plane, for about thirty minutes (within that time, I learned a little more about my seatmates. A grandmother and her granddaughter, returning from a funeral in Wyoming. The granddaughter was quite charming) then back up in the air to get to Orlando. Via a detour route, we finally arrived in Orlando at 7:00pm...three hours later than our scheduled landing time.

Missing the first Hertz shuttle (because it was just too dang full) we caught the next one to pick up our car. Hubby's driving a 2008 Hond.a Accord. It's burgundy with cream/tan interior. The girls love it! Indy calls it "our red car".

Riding along on the speedy toll road is great...until you hit the tolls. My MSN instructions only mentioned one toll booth but, actually, there were three. Nice. Good thing we thought to bring lots of quarters. The rental has a pass on the window, but we weren't really sure how to use it. We'll be doing a bit of research later today or tomorrow because our plan is to venture back to Orlando this weekend (Sunday and then Monday, maybe).

It's now 8:30pm, Thursday evening. My girls are tired and hungry and we're all just ready to check in and be done with the never ending day. The Daytona Beach Regency resort was to be our final destination, but when we arrived, our desk clerk informed us that there was no room in the inn. Oy! But, never fear! They booked us next door at the OceanWalk Resort. What a good God I serve! Seriously? Our timeshare? Yes!! Hubby and I were ecstatic! You see, we tried to book here earlier in the year, but it was full. So, we arranged for the next best thing. Daytona Regency rated well and was within our budget, but to be able to stay where we're familiar with everything is a nice treat. Oh, did I mention? They upgraded us to a two-bedroom condo with separate entrances. Sweet! We can't even hear the kids when they're acting like monkeys!

The main area has a living room with Murphy bed, 52" t.v., full kitchen, laundry facilities, king-sized master bedroom with 32" t.v., walk-in closets, garden-jetted tub, walk-in shower, and ocean view. The separate room has a kitchenette, 19" screen t.v., two queen-sized beds and pool-side view. We are in heaven and totally teaching our daughter about the virtue of patience and what it can bring you.

Last night? We ate at Bubba Gump's which was pretty tasty. We strolled the Ocean walk area a bit before heading home. It was late, but I made the girls shower and get fresh before bed. They were very grateful for their shower. Seems the humidity factor didn't really hit home until after they'd showered and realized they really needed it. Hubby and I relaxed in the garden tub (gotta get me one of these!). He tried to pick us up some drinks down at the bar in the lobby, but the bartender had announced "last call", just before he got down there. He was bummed, but she encouraged him to come back tomorrow (today) for her Hurricanes. The tub soaking was still nice without the drinks, but that would have been the icing on the cake. We showered off afterwards, then went to bed (but not to sleep, snicker, snicker).

This morning, I took video and pictures of the resort in the light of day. Indy came in and told me that she slept well and I opened the curtain, so that she could see the ocean:

"Mom, the ocean is so beautiful and shiny," my three year-old announced to me.

I agreed and let her know that she would be swimming in it soon. She's so excited. My eldest is bouncing off the walls! We keep putting her in check, but it doesn't seem to be making much difference. She's just so stinking excited. We keep trying to remind her of things she did here, but she doesn't remember. I hope this time, the memories stick.

Later, we went to visit my grandmother. It was as if she'd aged twenty years, but I suppose it's hard to see someone you know who's always been independent, living in a retirement home. She is completely silver-haired. It amazed me! (she's colored her hair for as long as I can remember). Her nails were painted and that made me happy. I told her she still looked glamorous. I was so glad she knew me and seemed genuinely happy to see all of us. This is the first time Indy has ever met her great-grandmother. Hubby took lots and lots of pictures.

So, why am I typing this post on my holiday/vacation? My hubby just left to go work-out at the gym. He's trying to keep his regime. I understand, but it still makes me sad that he left. He called a few minutes ago to tell me that he's not running away from me and that he's having a good time with all of us, he just wants to try and stay on track. I don't like it, but I get it. I laid on the guilt pretty thick and he actually seemed moved...for a moment, then off he went. Sigh.

When he gets back, I'm hoping we'll hit the beach or hit the pool. The oldest has been worrying us to death about the water. I must admit, I am eager to get in there myself. I also wouldn't mind doing a stroll around town. This really is a pretty place with a lot of good memories for me.

Whistle While You Work

We are either incredibly efficient or OCD. I haven't quite decided which. The truth is, whenever we get ready to leave for vacation, we clean. And, I'm not just talking about a little dusting or some glass cleaner, I'm talking rent-the-rug-doctor-and-scrub-the-oven-range-hood clean. Last night, hubby was steam cleaning like a crazy man. The day before, I was dusting, wiping and sucking up dust bunnies that had never seen the light of day. Today, we will divide and conquer the remaining work (laundry, mopping, bathroom cleaning/scrubbing, and packing). We'll need a vacation, just to get away from all the cleaning! The idea, really, is to leave a clean house and come back to one. Who wants to come back to a junky pig-stye after resting and relaxing for a week. It would be utterly depressing (that's why it has never happened in this family).

My mother is away right now, jaunting around Vegas with my sister in her rented, luxury sedan. She hasn't been since the 70's, so I know it was a total eye-opener for her, driving down the strip for the first time (in decades) Monday evening. Surprisingly, she hasn't really toured/visited the resorts. She's simply decided to go brain-dead in the condo and just relax. I can appreciate that. Tonight, they're supposed to see Way.ne Brady at the Venetian. I hope she has a good time. She really deserves it.

Hubby and I had a little evening spat last night over money. It wasn't even over the lack of money, it was just talking about the money that pushed me over the edge. It was 11:00 (way past my bedtime) and we were talking about how much cash to carry on us. We have our budget, so we subtracted all of the money we've spent thus far for the trip. The problem arose when hubby couldn't find the exact amount for the airline tickets. I was trying to pull up the site and do a quick check, but he took my over-assertiveness as a, "You think you're the only one who has ideas," idea. Great! We tried to work through the issue, last night but I was just too tired. I remember telling him that I didn't mean for my actions to be taken that way and that all I wanted to do was just get it done (I really, really hate talking about money). He seemed better this morning, but you never can tell.

So, where are we going? This family is making an east-coast trek to Florida. While there for fun in the sun, we'll also stop over and see my grandmother. My hubby's best friend lives there as well. My hope is to work on some control issues I have, while I'm away. The control is internal and I have a hard time letting go. I really want to let go, have fun, and not stress about every little thing. Can I do it? It will be a better vacation overall for everyone if I can.

I'm hoping the weather cooperates a little better there than what's going on here. I know Florida has had a bit of rain, but when it's 90 degrees, does anyone really notice? We've been getting dumped for what seems like weeks here. So out of the ordinary for this time of year. A coworker told me that a front usually in place over Arizona (I think) is not there this year, so all the weather that typically gets blocked is hitting us full on. Would someone please turn off the spicket up there? Surely, we've gotten enough water.

I've Already Checked Out

Our vacation doesn't officially start for me until Thursday, but I am already basking on the beach. The sun is beaming down on me and a gentle breeze tickles my face, while my children try to dodge the waves. My hubby and I sip drinks with umbrellas and laugh at the man pulling the speedos out of his crack. It's bliss!

Hubby's vacation officially started on Saturday, lucky duck. He's been around for the last couple of days, tidying up, paying bills and running errands. Actually, I think he officially checked-out two weeks ago. He's so excited! It's fun to watch him and listen to him talk about all the things we're going to do. He's such a big kid.

My eldest keeps asking about when and where we're going. True to tradition? She hasn't been told a thing. Boy, is she going to be surprised!

When All You Can Do Is Watch & Wait

Based on a comment GC made the other day, I thought I'd talk a bit about someone who is the complete opposite of my workaholic hubby; my best friend's hubby.

My bff and I met in college, back in 1993 (phew those years!). She was engaged to be married by our Senior year. I really liked the guy and went out with them several times (best way to know, you know?) . I thought he was a good match for her and I felt that he truly loved her. Unfortunately, he got cold feet and in a bad way; he completely stopped communicating with her. She heard from him about a year later, when he showed up to say;

"I was trying to find a job for you." Um, what?

There were other guys after him, but she found a guy who she communicated with long distance through her work. He lived in New York, but the distance didn't seem to deter their relationship. They began flying back and forth to see each other. Personally, I thought their visits weren't enough to really know where their relationship was going. I mean, you fly into town, have the best time for two or three days, then leave. You don't have that "grocery shopping", "pay the bills", "be around each other so much, you start to make each other sick" time you really need to have to get to know someone.

So, time went on and the company they worked for folded. They laid off both parties (which totally sucked) and my bff spent the next year and a half working odd jobs, until she found the one she has now (she's very happy). He was trying to figure out if he should take another job in New York, or move down to where she was and try to find something there. He chose to move and they became engaged. He had a nice severance package, so he was able to move, rent a new apartment and furnish it well without taking to much of a punch. He began looking for work and they made plans to marry.

They lived in separate apartments and got to know each other better (which is good, because I was very worried about this). Oh, before I forget, an incident occurred that brought up a red flag for me before he ever moved to Nashville. My hubby's grandmother passed and the three of us made arrangements for hubby to stay with my bff. Now, keep in mind, we've all known each other since college and we all hung out as friends before hubby and I ever got toghether. It only made since to all of us that he stay with her in her spare bedroom, rather than rack up expense. She explained this to her fiance and he was fine. Well, hubby went and was rarely at her apartment because of funeral arrangements and visiting friends and family. One night, fiance calls and hears hubby laughing at something on t.v. Fiance flies into a rage and becomes almost impossible (hubby and bff's words). Hubby told me later that he thought his reaction was completely bizarre, seeing as how he knew hubby would be there. We all sort of wrote it off, but hubby and I never forgot that incident.

I met hubby-to-be the day before their wedding (at the wedding rehearsal) and wasn't sure what to make of him, at first. He seemed nice enough, but we didn't talk much. The wedding came and went with lots of drama (as weddings do), especially with my bff's new mother-in-law.

Fast forward. They've been married nearly four years. To date, this man does not have a job. I can't imagine that his severance has lasted this long (I seem to remember her saying that she didn't want to dip into his 401K, but perhaps that's what they are doing now). They live in a very nice area of town and he drives an MDX. He's also a "labels" man, only buying the best of everything. She is more down-to-earth and conservative. It could come from K-Mart, and she would be fine with that.

What does he do all day? She used to tell me about the jobs he was interviewing for. When he wasn't interviewing, he was house cleaning. Now she doesn't tell me anything. I don't ask, either. I'm nearly afraid to! My hubby is in total cop mode about this and thinks he's shady as hell (I'd say, I have to agree at this point). Are they living on her paycheck alone? Does he collect monies from some "mysterious" source? She was very downtrodden, the last time I was in Nashville (2007). She confessed that she felt guilty because he moved down there for her. I told her that, that was his choice. She also felt badly because she had just been given a permanent job at her current company and he was totally unsupportive.

So, we wait. I want her to wake up and kick that dead-beat's ass out of her apartment (it's her apartment, as far as I'm concerned, because she's paying the rent...I'm sure). She wanted and deserved so much from their relationship and, from what I can see, they just keep moving backwards. He's over 40. There is no excuse. I love her dearly she is the god-mother to both my girls. There really isn't anything I would deny her, if she asked me...but I know she won't. I don't bring it up because it's such a touchy subject so, I wait. I'm really getting tired of waiting.

Popularity Can Be Profitable

My hubby has picked up two, additional clients for personal training. He is totally getting paid! It's nice to have the extra income (and it will be super lovely to have it as spending money on our vacation in a couple of weeks) but the trade off? I have to wait until the wee hours to see him. I've told him this and he claims that, because of the way he's scheduling his clients, we'll still get plenty of time together. I know I shouldn't complain. There are plenty of people who have husbands who don't work and just plain don't give a damn. Mine has always worked like a friggin dog.

I suppose this is why he's so retirement focused. He wants to build up to a nice nest-egg for our "after life", so to speak. One where we can enjoy each other and not worry about financial woes. I appreciate that thought process, truly. It's something my own father never thought to do and now suffers daily for it. I think, in this suffering economy, more people are taking stock of their future and trying to assess what are priorities and what aren't. We're also being more creative with our spending. With our new habits, I hope (when things finally get better) we don't revert back to bad habits; but, history tells us a lot, doesn't it.

From the Beginning

The Day of Surgery:

Hubby and I dropped off the kidlets and headed to the vision center. It is approximately 40 minutes away from where we live, but we made it there in about thirty (thanks to hubby's lead foot). We headed to the Target next door because I'd been so nervous, I hadn't had anything to eat. I knew they would be giving me anxiety meds so a stomach with padding (food) would be best. I had a hot cinnamon and sugar pretzel. Yum!

We headed over to the vision center directly after, with only ten minutes to spare (thanks to an uber slow check-out lady who felt it necessary to learn the life stories of every person in her line). I signed in and the receptionist asked my name. She pulled my file and directed me to a desk directly west of her to make payment. One thousand of the payment came from varied sources, while the remainder (about $2500) went straight to their finance company (no interest for two years). I could hear a girl behind me complaining that her eye felt like it had sand in it. The nurse explained that it was probably the bandage contact lens (must be a PRK patient, I thought immediately).

"Bandage contact? When can I take it out?"

"Your optometrist will take it out in four to five days."

Uh, talk about uninformed! What the hell?! I have to say that the clinic does a great job at letting you know what to expect. When you call to schedule an appointment for your scans, they send you a huge packet to read through. The day of your appointment, you are given a portable DVD player to watch a video on the various procedures and how they work. Then, after your scans, you talk to a counselor who tells you everything to expect. How the heck didn't she know about the bandage contact lenses? I wanted to take her and shake her when I heard her complaining. Hubby was in total agreement. Even he knew what to expect.

My payment taken care of, we were directed to an area I hadn't been to before where we were asked to sit down. "Aurora" asked me if I'd filled my prescriptions and brought my refresh tears. But of course! She then told me that most patients were offered something to calm them down for the surgery. I was nodding even before she told me what she was going to give me. She giggled a bit and offered me a valium. Within minutes, I was taken to an exam room where hubby and I were greeted by the optometrist we'd met at our last visit. He had me read a sheet with information about the procedure (Girl in the waiting room, didn't you read your sheet?). He then performed another eye exam because it had been one month and one day since my scans were performed. Talk about thorough! He gave me a surgical bonnet and booties to wear, then he told me that the doctor would be in to talk with me shortly.

Hubby asked how long the procedure would take, then excused himself once the Aurora assured him she would call just as soon as I was done. The doctor arrived soon after hubby left and talked to me about the procedure. We also made some chit-chat about where I was from, which led him to tell me about his best memories of Nashville (oddly, they were of his first visit to an Outback Steak.house and his dish of their succulent crabs). I asked him about my sensitivity to lenses and how I was worried about the bandages. He asked me to tell the optometrist, once I saw him again, to give me diluted numbing drops. This gave me a great sense of relief.

The doctor left and I was moved to a waiting area where "Makayla" gave me instructions about my drops. Oh, and the Valium was starting to kick in. Great stuff! She told me that everything was on the sheet, since I was worried I would forget. It seemed as if I would be putting in drops all the time.

Behind me were two chairs, which I dubbed "Chair 1" and "Chair 2". There were patients in both. After a few minutes of being in the waiting area, the person in "Chair 1" was escorted into the surgery room. The "Chair 2" patient was moved to "Chair 1" and I was moved to "Chair 2". Makayla added numbing drops (which burned a bit) and my eye lids become very heavy and sticky. After a few minutes, she was back to add more drops. I sat feeling like a drug-head for just a few minutes more, when "Chair 1"'s occupant was moved into the surgery room. I became the new seat-warmer for "Chair 1." Makayla was back with more drops. Goodness! More? The, she took something that looked like a small double-forked prong and headed for my eye. She was going to mark for my astigmatism. She touched my cornea and I reacted.

"Can you feel that?"

"Yep," I informed her directly.

"Okay. Let me get some more drops." Gosh, were my eyes just immune to this stuff? (Later, when I looked at my eyes, I saw two, blue dots on either side of my pupils where she made her markings.) I chatted with the former "Chair 1" occupant's hubby, who informed me his wife was getting mono vision surgery in one eye. In "Chair 2", a very nervous lady sat fidgeting, nervous about her second run with Lasik (it seems one eye was over corrected). Thankfully, this clinic I used covers enhancements.

Mono vision lady appeared and her hubby grabbed her arm, then wished me luck.

"You're up," informed a nurse. I headed into the laser/surgery room where they laid me down on a table. I was asked to slide up and place my head in a cylinder type head area. My knees were raised and I was offered a "teddy bear". The teddy bear was a soft brick with tape all around it. I assumed the tape was to repair where fingernails had dug into it, once too often. I accepted the brick and prepared myself.

The doctor asked me to stare ahead at the green, flashing light. My first thought? The hulk is going to appear! I know, I'm such a nut. There were four, bright lights surrounding the green light, which sort of reminded me of stage lights. I kept my eye on the green light, as I was instructed to do. Again, more numbing drops and this time, I felt like my eyes were really numb. They taped down my bottom and top lashes (weird). Then, the added the speculum to keep my eye open (they described everything they were doing). Next, the doctor put on some sort of cup that placed pressure on my eye. It was uncomfortable, but tolerable. He then added the alcohol which would remove the epithelial layer from my cornea. The cup would keep the alcohol from running all over my eye (weird) and he informed me that the light may disappear while this process was performed (it did). He then washed away the alcohol, and the green light soon reappeared. This process (the alcohol portion) took 35 seconds and I could hear the nurse counting down the time. I got the impression that he was scraping away the epithelial layer that had been eaten away, but he did not say this. I was grateful, but I could certainly tell what he was doing. Next, the doctor informed me that the laser would correct my vision, and this would take 7 seconds. There would be a burning smell (and there was...weird...like burning tires) for the time frame the laser would be working. After the laser, he rinsed my eyes again, put in the contact lens and added an eye drop of some sort. The whole process took about two minutes, tops. It was then repeated on my left eye.

They were listening to the easy listening station and I was very aware of hearing, "Live Like you were Dying" as my surgery took place. How about that for a permanent memory. :) The nurse gave me her hand and pulled me up. Immediately, I could see very clearly. I expected this...I also expected what happened after taking about five steps; total blurriness. I was escorted back to the exam room and asked to sit with my eyes close.

To my great surprise, I heard "Aurora" come in and ask me if I'd like a fresh baked cookie. Heck yeah! Ooey, gooey chocolate chip loveliness was placed in my hand. She even set one aside for hubby. Next, the optometrist came in and took a look at my eye with the "scope". Bright light! Bright light! Man, they weren't kidding about light sensitivity. Yeesh! It was like a burn to the brain! They could see the dead epithelial cells off to the side of each eye. Eww! I hoped all the drops I would be using would wash those suckers away. They asked me if anyone had called my hubby. I wasn't sure. They made me put on my blue blockers then escorted me up front. The optometrist himself began placing the call to hubby when who should step off the elevator? I gave hubby his cookie and my thanks to everyone there.

We went to Sam's to pick up prescriptions (the lighting was horrific, even with the sunglasses), then we went home and I rested with the aid of a percoset. Later in the evening, I ate a bit, talked to my girls, then went back to sleep. My eyes didn't hurt or bother me, but there was a lot of blurriness. The goggles I have to wear for sleeping are crazy and I find myself sweating around the eyes from lack of circulation. I'll be glad when I don't have to wear them anymore (they don't look anything like the protective lenses hubby had to wear after his Lasik procedure. Not sure if these are are step up or not).



Day 2

I woke up to blurry vision and dry eyes. Hubby took the children to school and trained his client, while I rested in bed. I listened to my book on CD (Thrill) and ate myself into oblivion. Stress/boredom eating is not good when you're trying to get back into your two-piece. As the day wore on, the dry eye issue worsened. I met with my optometrist who was convinced I'd show up, pimp slap him and cuss him out (I thought that was pretty funny). He was amazed at how well I was doing and said that the epithelial layer was growing back nicely. After checking my vision on the chart, briefly, he said I was around 20/30 to 20/25 vision,

"But you understand it will get worse before it gets better."

Indeed. I understood this well. I told him about the numbing drops and how I hadn't used them yet, since the optometrist at the vision clinic informed me that it would hinder the epithelial growth. I told my optometrist that I would only use them as a last resort and that I would mainly rely on my refresh drops and percoset for pain management. He told me not to hold back and I assured him I wouldn't. ;)

Day 3

Ugh! The agony! Based on every story I'd read about PRK, this was to be the worst and, for me? It certainly was. Everything was so blurry and jumpy. My eyes felt like there were sand particles in them and I had the sensation that I was viewing everything from under water. I had to get the babe ready for her dance performance and apply some semblance of make up, before my mother arrived. My mother ended up putting on the lipstick because I couldn't focus on both the child's lips. Crazy! I took a percoset mid-day and slept to try and get past the day. I listened to From Dead to Worse on disc, along with a bit of Thrill. Hubby was very attentive, seeing to all my needs and generally being a good husband. I was on my drops like a crack addict, just to try and help the recovery process along. Overall, day three really sucked. I just prayed I'd get through it without being too much of a bitch.

Day 4

So much better than the day before. I even felt up to driving. Bad idea. The road was jumpy and the vision was super blurry with lots of ghosting. Good thing there isn't a lot of traffic on Sundays. Hubby wasn't impressed that I took it upon myself to get behind the wheel of a vehicle. How could he stop me, though? I, at least, brought home a stellar breakfast for everyone to enjoy. I ate with the family and enjoyed the company of my hubby and girls. By breakfast's end, I was ready to rest again. Hubby joined me in the back on his laptop (the ultra bright screen turned away from me, thank you very much) while I listened to the last of my Sookie Stackhouse book. He provided me with drops every hour, on the hour and helped me keep up with my drop-schedule from the doctor's office. I was off the Acular by this time (although, I never noticed it removing any pain). I really didn't have pain during any of this, per se. It was more discomfort than anything. Great discomfort on day three, but never pain. (blurry vision = blurry picture...sorry, folks)

Day 5

I drove my kid to school without too much difficulty. I then took Netflix videos to the post office, then back home for my drop-schedule (Here's an observation: the Omnipred feels the best...not surprising, since this is the steroid. Also, the drops run down my nose and throat, sometimes. They taste god-awful). I then took the youngest to the park, briefly (too hot). So, off to the library where she picked out her first book (on her own) to check out. It took a little persuading to get her to put the book on the counter for scanning. She just didn't want to let it go!

I've stayed on my refresh drops on the hour every hour and what's funny? I totally don't have to watch the clock. I know when it's time. The dryness is unmistakable. Can you believe I have to do this for the next month? Only after a month can I back down to refresh drops every two to three hours. It's totally necessary, though. Until the eyes learn how to produce their own moisture naturally again, this is what I'll have to do.

I suppose I'll limit the PRK updates to once a week or so. I believe my description here gives a pretty clear picture on what to expect. Everyone is different and healing is a long, slow process. I am optimistic, however. Every time I get a glimpse of visual sharpness, I think, "Woohoo! That's what I have to look forward to."

Post PRK Day Four (Sort of here...)

Phew! Things are mighty blurry. I'm typing in the dark and I've got my doctor-prescribed pseudo blue-blockers on (remember those?) trying to create this post and I don't think I'm going to get very far. Basically, this is the best day yet since surgery (yesterday was the worse). I'll do a day by day, once I feel a little more confident in my typing.

Thanks to you all for the extra prayers and thoughts. I couldn't have made it through without them. This was the single most bizarre experience of my life, but I am beginning to see the benefits. I hope by tomorrow, I can document what I've experienced and learned right here for your reading pleasure (as if I'm oh, so exciting). Lol!

It's the last day of May. Can you believe it? Spring is nearly gone and summer is knocking at the proverbial door. It also means we're about six months away from the new year. Even freakier! Where does the time go?

T-24 hours (approximately) and counting. These have been my glasses for nearly three years. I bought them the summer my mother-in-law came to visit. I remember going to my visit and, not only buying these glasses, but contacts as well. Many of the contacts are still in my closet. I never could wear contacts well, since I always (always) feel them. It seems weird that tomorrow will be the last day I wear them. I'm getting anxious, not just about the surgery itself, but about the fact that they haven't called yet to schedule. It's supposed to be some time today. Will they call this morning? Will it be this afternoon? What if they forget? I've already taken the time off and it was tricky, at best, to coordinate with hubby. Hubby suggests calling them, myself, at 10:00am, which I plan to do. Then, do I call my optometrist to see what time he wants to see me on Friday? Will their office call me today? Tomorrow? Yeah, anxious is an understatement.

I'm almost done with True Bloo.d. My goal was to have it finished before I couldn't see again. I was also going to finish my novel (Fantasy Lover). I don't think that the latter will happen, since I've got the Babe's hair to do and an oil change to try and squeeze in. I'm nearly 200 miles over and I can see the gas just leaving, as a result. It's always the same; late oil change, horrid gas mileage.

The babe was supposed to perform this Friday and Saturday (yep...more surprise performances), but because of the surgery, we were scrambling to figure out how to get her to the locations. My mother is covering Saturday, but Friday was proving more and more difficult. Finally, I emailed the director back and asked for suggestions. She emailed me and, much to my surprise, told me there was nothing to worry about. That they had their karate group performing too and that she would look for an alternate dance group to perform. She insisted that they just couldn't do it without my little one, but understood my scheduling conflicts. My mother said, "But, of course! She is the best, you know." Wow. If the Babe's head gets any bigger, will have to move out to the country for the space.

Booked

The resort, the flights and now the car for our vacation are booked. It really takes a load off...wondering when and where to do it and if we're getting the best deals or not. For the car, we watched the rates for four days with steady amounts. Last night, when I checked, rates had begun to creep up and hubby became nervous. I inadvertently stumbled onto the Hotwire site, while clicking around on "this" and "that" deal. I don't use them often, since you don't know what you're getting until the end of the transaction. Nevertheless, I found a rate lower than what we'd been seeing. So, we jumped on it. Turns out Hert.z was our rental company and it had been high, high, high for days (like $430 for six days, high). Our price? $198, including taxes and fees. Woohoo!

I neglected to post that, for Mother's day, hubby presented me with gift cards this year. One for $25 to Bath and Bo.dy Works and another for $30 to Ross (I still have about $40 on my other Ross card, the one he gave me for our anniversary, along with the shadow box). So Friday, we tripped on over to the mall where I spent the card and a bit of my own money to revel in their latest scent: whit.e citrus. It is heavenly. I feel the same way about their Se.a Island Cotton. Both are very fresh, crisp and clean smelling. I'm grateful to have my summer scent supply fully stocked.

My neighbor did it again. Ugh! She is something else. I woke Indy up to go and pick up the babe from school, yesterday afternoon. I hate to do it, but it is what I have to do. I try to make sure she goes down early enough that the disruption isn't too rough on her quality of sleep. So, I've got her all dressed and ready and begin to head out the door when my phone rang. I knew it was her and I knew what she'd say, but I answered anyway:

"Hello?"

"Hey! Hi, Enchantress. This is A****."

"Hi."

"Hey, I just woke up and E**** (her son) is still asleep. Can you pick up A**** (her daughter) for me?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I can get her."

"Thanks."

What the hell?! Your ass is home all day, everyday. From what we've observed, she sleeps a big portion of each day...leaving her youngest (who will be three in a couple of weeks) to his own devices. I worked a crazy-ass day at work (from home) and had major stress going on. I really don't have a problem picking up her kid, but it's the principle. What is her freaking problem? She quit her job because her manager was "mean". So the hell what! You suck it up and get past it. Now, they are in debt up to their eyeballs and have to sell their house. They are moving back in with grandma (her mother-in-law). Like I've said, I hate waste and irresponsibility is right up there with it, too.

She's very nice, but I can't say that I'm that upset about their moving. Is that wrong? Honestly, I feel like I've become somewhat responsible for her own children! The youngest runs out into the street all the time and I'm the one freaking out about it, while they don't seem to notice at all. He was ill this winter and had to be hospitalized for a bit, but it could have been prevented completely. How? Oh, how about a jacket on him when it's cold or shoes on his feet, when he runs out into the yard? Of course, I've chronicled the illnesses of the daughter, here on this blog. It seems she has something every week that prevents her from going to school. If momma is depressed and dispondent, don't bring the children into that madness. I think a lot of the time she keeps her eldest home so she'll have someone to talk to. I hope the oldest makes good choices for herself in the future. It may mean the difference between being and active, vital citizen or detaching and becoming a hermit like her mother.

On a happier note, with almost ten pounds down, I am starting to look and feel a lot better. Hubby wants to train at the park together. Do I dare? We'll see. And thanks to Tasha, I've got a new ringtone. I'm so excited! (Shame on you for posting this site, girl. I'm so addicted!)

Being Natural, My Kids and Preparing for Surgery

I took my hair down over the weekend. It's been two months and boy, was it looking rough! I ordered hair the very day I took it down (the same type as the last, only much lighter for spring/summer). I will also make sure she cuts it a bit shorter. Sort of a shame, considering how much I spent for it. Anyway, as I took my hair down I reveled in the length. I just can't believe that I was nearly bald only two years ago. I'll have as much hair as my oldest in no time (way too much). Since it's natural (but I do color) I redyed it all so that when I have the latest extensions put in, it won't look too crazy. That and I just like going a bit lighter when the sun comes out. The color above appears on me, just as it does on the model. It's a bronze color with lots of light reflecting highlights. Very pretty.

I am amazed at how much I miss my hair out, free and natural. The braids have been protective, giving my hair a chance to rest, grow and be untouched for a while. After I took out the braids, dyed, washed and cleared my hair, I was so happy to just run my fingers through all my twists and coils. It really is beautiful close up. How come I never noticed? Traditions can be so blinding. I look at perm kits on the shelves in stores now and just thank God I don't have to do that anymore. I'm so surprised at how I feel. I didn't chronicle this journey like I initially planned, but I will say that I am happy with my choice. I use the glycerin and water on my hair as a moisturizer (the Castor oil, on me, gave my scalp the itchies). My skin is different from my kids. They seem to handle the Castor oil nicely. I also have Carol's Daughter.'s hair butter. I'm not crazy about the smell or the product for myself, but my girls love it. I actually prefer Silken Child for me.

Like everyone says, it's certainly trial and error. There are things I will never put in my hair again, and things I'm sure I'll just love, love, love (but can't find in freaking Utah). On vacation, I plan to stock up. Hubby's all about making space for all the stuff we'll buy out of town. It's very frustrating living somewhere where "our" resources are so limited. I'm glad I got my Sally's card (since that's really the only alternative I have). Since I seem to spend money there every month, might as well get a discount. If you don't have a card and you find that you shop their often, invest in the card. You'll be glad you did.

Monday during lunch, I picked up several CDs on hold for me at the library. I didn't realize that one of the reserves I chose was a children's book. Not being deterred, I brought it home and ripped it to the computer. When I put the discs on the counter to take back, my eldest saw them, yesterday morning after breakfast and read the cover.

"Can I listen to these?"

"Sure. They're actually children's stories...but, they're supposed to be scary. Can you handle it?"

"Yeah."

So, off she went into our sitting room and popped in the first disc. I could here the eerie music with each tale. The fall and rise in the narrator's voice (along with cackles and screams). Where was this last Halloween? She was totally into it. Checking in on them about twenty minutes later, she and her sister were curled up on the couch with a blanket and stuffy listening intently. A few minutes after that, baby sister comes back whining and hugging me saying, "I don't want to be scared anymore." Poor little thing! I found something else for her to do. What sacrifices we'll make to be with the one we love, huh?

So, the books on CD that I've reserved over the past couple of weeks are to get me through healing time. Eight days till the big day. Sigh....As I continue to read recover stories across the web, one of the things I saw mentioned (only once) was having books on CD. Since I won't be able to see to read a book, a t.v. or computer, I thought this was a great suggestion. The final Sookie book is in that mix (well, the final before the latest that just came out this month).

Tru.e Blood on video! I was so excited, I headed on over to the local video store to pick it up. Hubby and I watched the first episode last night. I like the brassy Tara character, but she's nothing like she's described in the book. I like who they've chosen to play Bill and I'm really pleased with the filming location (are they filming in Louisiana? I'll have to check). I hope the fan base stays strong because there are so many books. I'd love to see all of Char.laine's characters come to life. I was filling in hubby on all the vampires, shape shifters, weres and other supes. He was more into than I thought he would be. It's a sexy tale, too so the eldest can't read or watch these right now. She's really bummed out about it. I'm actually really happy at how eager she is to read everything!

Watching a little titillation must have gotten hubby in the mood. Okay, no. He's always in the mood. He's been in the mood for the past four days. Maybe he's getting it all in before I'm completely incapacitated. Nope. I think he'd go for it, whether I was partially conscious or not. What a guy!

*Update* I just called and checked on the status of my hair order. Back ordered. Back ordered?! Why didn't I get an email, a phone call something! Ugh! So, now I've got to spend more money to buy more hair. The stores here don't carry the hair I want. So, I'll either have to die my hair black and get what's readily available or find a substitute that won't break the bank. I am not cancelling my appointment. I am so irritated!

Fight the Good Fight

This really is worth watching. If you didn't see it, I hope you'll take the time at some point to do so.

Awesome Wife Award

(Also titled on the other site). Yesterday, I jumped on a Hom.e De.pot sale and bought my hubby an early birthday/Father's day gift. I convinced the eldest not to talk about it, but really,where in the world would I have hidden a grill? So, we got it home, I asked a neighbor to help me get the box on the deck, then I spent a an hour or so assembling that sucker. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.

After assembling, I made his favorite pasta salad. I then took the kids to the grocery store to pick up some "practice" steaks for him to try. When we got home, I put them in a peppercorn marinade for seasoning. They are, at this moment, still marinating in the fridge. Dear hubby wants to study the manual, first. Good idea, hubby. :)

When he got home, I heard his car in the garage. So, I ran into the garage like a crazy woman and said (in a panicked voice); "Oh, thank God you're here! I can't believe this has happened! You've got to come out here quick. What the hell are we gonna do?!" I left him breathless and distraught in the garage, then darted to the back of the house and out the back door.

A few seconds later, hubby appears in the doorway and I let out my happy early birthday surprise and cheer. He was completely speechless for ten seconds. Then, he was oohing and ahhing over the new, shiny appliance. I let him know that everything was assembled, but I had not yet attached the propane. He pulled out the cover and lovingly draped it over. What a site!

So, steaks for dinner tonight? We'll see if he gets his studying done.

It's Coming Together

We're planning our vacation and I'm really excited. We've given ourselves a 3K budget this year, which has me just a bit nervous (I really don't spend money well...then, there's my hubby...). On the other site, I'm documenting my work to get tone again. I'm realistic, and began my journey at the end of April. Hubby was telling me that there are people who actually say stuff to him like, "Hey, how can I lose forty pounds in two weeks, so I can be ready for my vacation?" Are they serious? They must be high. Even if you could do that, you'd probably pass out on the vacation. Not good.

The school year is nearly over and hubby, quite by my surprise, signed Indy up for swim lessons. Yeah! She's going to be thrilled. She loves the water (taking to it much faster than her sister did at her age) and I'm sure she'll be a fish in no time. I signed up the Babe for acting/swim camp this year. It's a week long and she has no idea. It's best that way with her, or she'll drive me nuts!

She asked me this morning, ironically, if I ever went to camp as a kid. I explained that my elementary school became a camp each summer. So, the thousands of dollars my parents shelled out during the school year, could continue throughout the summer, except the curriculum became "camp like" instead. This was how I went on all those field trips to Disney.land, Knott.s Berry Farm, Magic Mountain and Sea World. She was mighty impressed. If only there were something like that here. They should get smart because with the hordes of children, somebody could be getting rich, rich, rich.

It's oil change time. Blah! I guess I wouldn't mind so much if I weren't pressured, every time I went, to perform every known service under the sun. I know they're due and I'll take care of it when I'm ready. Leave me alone, why don't cha! If it's sunny in your neck of the woods, I hope you enjoy your weekend.

Scaring the Normals

So, I made myself (and hubby) a disc the other day; Thr.33 Ring.z. I am having a ghetto fabulous week with this disc! Yes, I know he uses auto-tune and I know lots of people take issue with the use of the device, but growing up with Roger and Zap.p, I'm easy to forgive. I think it adds his own style and it's obviously making him a trunk load of money.

I've been blasting this disc, jammin' hard on my way to work (the two days I drive in) and around the neighborhood with my kids (I am trying to be a good mom, skipping the harsher tracks when they're in the car with me). Turns out hubby has been too, and on our way to the Targe.t yesterday evening, I noticed the stares we were getting. Yeah, the black family was blasting hip-hop...and? Does that mean we're degenerates or potential cell-block residents? Hell, no...but that's what the looks were saying. Of course, when the pigmently challenged are blasting their stereos, it's supposed to be a testament to their coolness, right? Wrong. If we look utterly ridiculous, than it's twenty times worse when they do it. At least our car has rhythm (even little Indy, she just moves rhythmically in circles).

All this has reminded me of how stifling living here can be for me, some times. I don't conform because it goes against everything I am. Hubby is the same way. I feel it in moderation only, but there are times when I'm talking to someone or when we're around other people...the differences. For example, people will just say things to my hubby when we're out and about. It's obvious that their scared, so they say something to him to alleviate their fears. Punk asses! It would be so easy to call them on it, but we're always polite and easily show that we're not as scary as we look. Hubby sometimes calls himself "The G.I. Joe Action Figure" because there are those who sort of see him as their "doll" to show off. Crazy, right? This definitely didn't happen when we lived in Nashville.

For me, I see their fear of the "Crazy Black Woman" emerging...and, it has on occasion. This is rare and, thankfully, I keep "her" in check because I seriously don't need that kind of a reputation. Then there's the stereotypical stuff people are trying to read from me and from hubby. I'm not naive. We do know that stereotypes originated for a reason...so many of them are gospel (but some are not, of course). Here's an example; hubby and I were at a dinner party, not long ago. There was a discussion about how one of the couples met, a lot of details were included, but I got the impression (once the story was over), we were expected to deal ours out in the same way. Hubby and I are usually so quick to share our story, but there was hesitation from both of us this time. What else were they looking for? Hmm... I also notice, when people are admiring his physique, they're looking at me. Not in a way like, "Why aren't you ripped-up like him," but, "Man, what do they get into?"

Further elaboration with this? Our kiddlings. When we're out together as a family, some one always says something about the girls. Always. Every single time. Whether it's how beautiful they are (which, of course, they are) or how well behaved they are. Sometimes, people just randomly give them stuff. What the hell is up with this? Again, this would never happen back in Nashville. I'm convinced.

So, are we just different or are we truly scaring the normals? I guess I'll never know.


(On repeat in the car.)

Spring Pics!

As promised, from my post a few days ago:

Aging Parents

My parents are very different. In fact, I used to wonder as a child how they ever got together in the first place. I see there differences multiply further the older they get. My mother, the consummate diva, would rather die than give up her fabulous new size 6 and size 8 clothes, so she works out like a crazy person to keep the pounds from creeping back on. She's also careful about what she eats and keeps active with her dog. She is a career woman and revels in the accolades she receives from her peers. My father can barely walk now, uses a motorized chair to get around (or a cane), is diabetic and probably suffers from high blood pressure as well. (He'd have to, with the kind of foods he eats.) He is a minister, but hasn't had a real job in I don't know how many years. I honestly am unaware of how the bills are paid each month. His M.O in the past was to rob from Peter to pay Paul. (BTW, my mother is six years older than my father).

Earlier today, my sister called and informed me that he has just had a stent placed in his coronary artery. She had no idea, until she called to just see how he was doing after, what she thought was a regular doctor's visit. He's resting and she encouraged him to seek out a home-nurse for a while (his wife is older than he is and is having her own issues). She asked if he has medicare and what sort of insurance he uses (she is in the medical field now and was trying to be helpful). She couldn't figure out why he was so hesitant to talk to her about such things. He just kept saying, "I'm fine," and encouraged her to stop worrying. I told her that it would be a cold day before he'd give up that kind of information. My father has always been incredibly paranoid and doesn't share personal information freely. She didn't understand this, and I told her I was just as in the dark about it myself.

I think we're faced with issues now that we really weren't prepared to deal with until much later. My grandmother (his mother) was placed into long-term care earlier this year and is approaching 90. With the depression from being there, I don't know how long she'll hang on. What happens if she passes? I would be heartbroken at losing her, but she's lived a long and happy life. But what if her own son's failing health gets the better of him, is it back to Nashville for me for his funeral? I know I probably sound very insensitive, but I just hate waste. If my father passed, I would be more angry at him than hurt at the loss. He knows better. In fact, he spent a big part of my childhood working out and following good eating habits. Vitamins were all over the house and at 3, I knew who Jack Lalane was.

Perhaps it was his lifestyle as a musician that kept him working so hard at his physique and health, or maybe it's where he lives (everyone in Nashville seems so large to me, now that I don't live there anymore). The temptation to eat out and eat horrible things is everywhere. Southern-style, deep-fried, grease dipped cuisine is everywhere and no one is really concerned that you weigh 300 pounds plus. It's not like L.A. where a perfect-body culture drives people to look good and think thin (of course, this type of thinking can also drive folks to the other extremes, unfortunately). I'm so flummoxed about it all. I think I need to think on things a bit.

An Unforgettable Mother's Day

Friday started the weekend with an emotional bang. I woke up, began work and my day as usual for a Friday. I then prepared the girls for their day. I noticed that the Babe wasn't looking all that well, even after Thursday's day of rest and regrouping. I gave her some IBU for some achenes she was feeling (attributing it to growing pains). I later took her temp and discovered it was 103.5! Freaking the hell out, I took her to the emergency room...convinced she was the first Swin.e Flu discovery for our county. We later discovered she had strep (something curable, much to my relief).

I spent the day tending to her like any good nurse, making sure she was trying to eat (even if just a little bit) and was drinking her fluids. I checked her temp regularly (where, at it's highest, it was 104.9...never in my life have I seen temps that high before). She rested all day, never getting out of bed unless she had to go to the bathroom. I was pleased with her obedience (despite her desire to go to school).

That evening, we risked a show to see the Lipizzaner Stallions which she enjoyed immensely, but I could tell she still wasn't herself. My mother had already paid for our tickets and both of us wanted to go. I figured sitting for a couple of hours wasn't too extraenous for her. It was also quite an opportunity that I didn't want her to miss.

Saturday was her last competition. I explained that she didn't have to go, but with all the meds, she felt up to it. We went, she performed and back home to the bed she went. She was looking loads better and feeling better as well. Her performance was a smash and I think she felt good about her contribution to the team. I was very proud of her.

Sunday was nice, although I did end up giving her a Naproxen at church (it was all I had). She begin to feel achy during service and I had a low-dose sample in my purse. By benediction, she was looking like herself again. Being ill puts her into a complacent state (a welcome change for her mother). She was so much so that she listened to the sermon. Wow! We actually had dialogue about it in the car, upon our departure. We went to breakfast, where my sister treated us. Nice! The rest of the day I spent finishing the Sookie books I have (discovering, to my delight, that there is yet another one to read before the new one that just came out this year- I have that one on reserve at the library :) ) and starting a new book entitled Moon Called, which I'm still not certain about. The genre is the same as the Sookie Stackhouse books and I like all of the supernatural aspects, but the verdict is still out on this author's style (I'm a little over half-way through the novel).

Today, I'm dealing with TOM issues. I am glad it appeared a little earlier than I expected. This means I'll be bitchy around the time of my surgery and after, so hopefully the pain meds will just make me "babe complacent" for hubby and he won't have to deal with my hormones.

Play Nice, Girls

I'm putting that statement on myself and how "mothers" can sometimes be so trifling.

My daughter dances with five other girls in her group. They are either a year older or younger than she is. One of these girls, who is in second grade, has grown to like the Babe very much. She has asked me several times if she could sleep over and I've put her off for now, simply because there isn't time. I have assured her that it will happen and that I'll make plans with her mother. It's the end of the school year and the girls seem to be gone every weekend for competitions. Anyway, before I even knew who this girl was, I met her mother. We were making very idle chatter one night, but she seemed very preoccupied (and a bit snobby, to my way of thinking). She almost seemed to look through me as she talked. I wrote it off, thinking she probably had a lot on her mind.

Later, we met again and I didn't connect that it was the same person because, 1., she looked very different and 2., she was very talkative. So much so that I thought she was sharing way too much. Then, she began to criticize the girls dance and critique them to no end (which totally turned me off). She sort of apologized for being such a perfectionist, but by then, I wasn't really paying much attention to her. She was sounding too much like a pageant mother and they have issues.

At one of the competitions, I was sitting on the bleachers and she came past me. She said hello, but it was hollow again (like she was looking through me). Last night, the girls performed for a high school group. This time, I came up the bleachers and I didn't see her until I was on the row behind her. She said hello, as did I. Then, I mentioned that her daughter had asked me (yet again) for a sleep over. I told her mother I thought she might not approve of a "school-night" sleepover and that we should wait until all the competing is over and done with. I smiled a lot and hoped she would agree. She just looked at me. No nod. No vocal recognition. She smiled slightly, then turned away. Huh?!

So, now I'm wondering if she's nuts or if it's me. Am I crazy? What is this woman's deal?! Could it be that when she was having her "come to Jesus" moment and I turned her off, she turned me off? Could she be trying to figure me out? Is she the snob I think she is? (She bragged a bit about where her daughter takes gymnastics and how they moved from "Fruit Heights" - a very well-to-do area, to the city where the school is located now...almost like she had taken a step down). I know she's in real estate, as is most of their family. She provided the babe with her business card, so that we would have their number and yeah, the family is pictured on the card. Her daughter that dances with my daughter is also her youngest (she has a child in college, which I learned during her "come to Jesus" session).

My hubby says not to worry about it. That I know people here are generally a little weirder than others and that, "She could be crazy," and to "watch myself." Great. I'm thinking, my daughter wants to play with her daughter, who is a sweetheart and a doll and I'd love for them to play together, but I still have to deal with her mother, in order to do make this play date or sleep over happen. I'm not trying to be friends. That isn't necessary, but I'd at least like to be civil and not feel like I was the gum on the bottom of her shoe. Is that asking for so much?

She doesn't strike me as the type of person to rationalize things with. Again, I'm not trying to be friends; however, being cordial and polite would make for easier arrangements all around. I almost don't want to call her but, her daughter is incredibly persistent. What to do...

Meanwhile, the babe was up several times last night. Nightmares, sad thoughts, lots of crying, despondent. Hubby tried to talk with her and sent her to bed after each talk. I've just ushered her into the bathroom for a shower (mind you it's like 5:15am and she's up again). I hope she can make it through the school day. I hesitate to give her a caffeine boost, cause she'll just crash and things will be worse. What a night! Is the moon full?