I’m too young for this.

Saturday Cassidy, my mom and I spent the day running around to get some last minute school shopping done. She grew like 4 feet over the summer and all the skirts she put on had her looking like Cynthia. Target had all the uniforms on sale (YAY FOR LASTMINUTNESS) and we picked up a few skirts, shirts, capri’s and all that jazz. I didn’t get TOO much there because at The Great Mall there is store that sells uniforms but cut in all the hip new styles. So they are the fabric the school requires but she won’t be twinsies with Laura Ingalls Wilder on the first day of school. Cassidy is all about the fashion. This is her big fashion secret. She gets to wear uniforms that are different than the normal Lands End, Target, WalMart fair that you see and she thinks it’s the coolest thing EVER because they look great with her hot pink and purple striped tights, red knee high socks, and green and yellow hair bow. I’m telling you, she’s ALL ABOUT THE FASHION.

Only the store is closed and Cassidy is BESIDE HERSELF because HOW is she going to FACE the people at school if she has to wear the SAME uniform they do?! So before she could die right there in the mall in typical melodramatic girl fashion, we rushed her into Limited Too to see if we could find anything there. We did. ONE pair of capri’s and two bralette’s: $85.00!!!

Me: I certainly hope you include lube with that.
Clerk: Huh?

On the way out as I was mentioning to Cassidy that we’d have to go back to target the next day to get a backpack we passed Tilly’s and they seemed to have a pretty good selection of them so my mom went in. Cassidy ended up picking this Roxy backpack… after staring at two for about 30 minutes trying to decide which one she liked better. I could see the gears turning, ticking off the pros and cons of each. Hmmm, this one has wheels, but THIS one has a matching detachable LUNCHBOX!

When she finally decided on the backpack and we were paying, another clerk decided to SPEAK and please, clerks, COULD YOU STOP DOING THAT, and mentioned they had a MATCHING BINDER. My mom, of course in full on grandma mode, said, “YES! Lets see it!” So the guy brought it over and a short 40 minutes after Cassidy was ready to completely give up on life and die right there in front of a closed down Voga, she proclaimed this “THE VERY BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!!”

Today is her fist day of 4th grade. Excuse me while I go cry…


OMGHI! I’m like, alive and stuff. Barely. Silly girls. 😉

Ummm, I haven’t really blogged because I’m just… ummm… I’m going through stuff that I’m not really sure how to express yet. I’m a thinker. I think everything to death, dig it back up, resuscitate it, then think it back down again.

Rinse. Repeat.

After many months of struggling physically with out of control symptoms Ben finally kicked me in the ass and I made an appointment to get to the gynecologist on Monday. I was given a blood test and on Tuesday the doctor called to confirm what we were already 98% sure of: I have PCOS.

I’m pretty much a text book case and when I first mentioned it to Ben and he read about it he was like, OMG! This is SO YOU! And it is. And the thing is, I see this as both a blessing and a curse.

Blessing: Relief. Like, now. The symptoms are treatable and I’ve been given a different kind of birth control to take and the doctor is sure that I’ll feel better within the next few weeks. This is good. For me and Ben and anybody else that has to deal with me on a daily basis because when you are that hurting PHYSICALLY, it doesn’t take long to start effecting you MENTALLY as well. It was hard on me and it was hard on Ben to have to deal with me and now, that can change. And that is good.

Curse: I am worried about infertility. In very simple layman’s terms, I ovulate about four times a year. I have a period that often. So while most women have twelve chances a year to get pregnant, I have four.

We aren’t planning on having kids tomorrow. Or even trying anytime soon. But I do want kids. Badly. And I always just assumed that since when I was 19 I got pregnant while ON THE PILL, I’d have no problem in the future. Working where I do and seeing how much women have to go through and how REALLY REALLY EXPENSIVE it is for any kind of infertility treatment… it’s just been a lot of thinking.

But for now I really need to focus on the fact that SOON all of these ridiculous symptoms that I’ve been going through for months and months are going to subside and I’ll be back to normal. Well, as normal as I can be. Which lets face it, ain’t normal at all. Even on a good day. But I think now the rate at which Ben shoves his foot up my ass to remind me how NOT normal I am will decrease. Maybe. 😀

SO THERE! I’m alive AND I’ve blogged AND I have another half written about the autocross and I’ll try not to take over a week to post again. SO THERE!


4 and counting.

Four years ago today Ben drove to Bakersfield and told me, “Move up with me or we need to move on.” So I moved up. And although there have been extremely difficult times along the way, I know without a doubt, that this is where I belong. Where I belonged for a long time BEFORE the move.

I can’t believe how much I’ve grown and changed in that time. When he showed up that day I was extremely depressed but refused to admit it. I was grasping at a very thin string to keep my head just high enough above the water to make the outside world think that I wasn’t completely drowning. I really didn’t care. I wanted to drown.

I know that Ben knew this. And I know that he knew what I needed was for somebody to slap me across the face and tell me to grow the fuck up already. So in his own, much more eloquent and civilized way, he did that. He had to do it again one weekend recently. Depression is an odd playmate.

I have no doubt that Ben knows me better than I know myself. He also believes in me more that I believe in myself and he combines these two things into a wicked mind game. Wicked good though! Because it startles me sometimes how transparent I am to him and how easily he can manipulate that to my own advantage. Yes, MY advantage. I know. At some point I hope I’m able to help you understand it better but for now try, okay?

Anyway, since we don’t have a real anniversary date, I wanted to take this chance to say: Happy Anniversary, Lover. I’m still thankful every day that I have you. I love you for being such a wonderful man, an outstanding father, as patient as the day is long and for making me laugh and smile every single day. (k) 🙂