When internal organs go astray.

I got the following e-mail yesterday:

Brandi,
I'm a long time reader and I'm coming out of lurker status because I'm worried. You usually post several times a week but lately it's only once or twice a week. Is everything O.K.? Is your husband O.K.? Did anything happen? Sorry for sounding like a stalker or a creeper. I've been reading for years and I feel like we're friends and if one of my friends suddenly stops talking to me as often as usual, I get worried. Hope everything's O.K.

Creepy-stalker Janey


Dear Creepy-stalker Janey,

Thanks for being concerned. Everything is O.K., and my husband is fine.

Do you remember about a year ago when I was whining about my thyroid because it was acting all crazy, and I had to ingest radioactive iodine to find out what was wrong and almost had to forgo the tummy tuck over it? No? I'd link to the posts but my thyroid is making me so tired I don't have the energy to look for it. Long story short: My thyroid inexplicably went haywire and I felt like crap. But it went haywire in such a way (hyperthyroidism) that I lost an extra 20 pounds and got down to a size four. So, as far as medical maladies go, it wasn't so bad.

It finally stabilized and they told me to expect to gain back a few pounds. They also warned me that often it over corrects itself and goes crazy the other way (hypothyroidism). I did gain a few pounds, but for nearly a year my thyroid remained stable.

And then last month it decided to up and quit. Suddenly my thyroid had become about as useful as a college drop out living in his mom's basement laying around smoking pot all day (which would totally explain my constant munchies).

I gained 15 pounds in two weeks (which makes 30 pounds in the past year for those of you keeping score, and I know some of you are). Two weeks. And it's not going away.

I'm living in stretchy pants and constantly praying that my tummy tuck scars don't burst open.

And I'm tired. Like, eight months pregnant in the dead of summer kind of tired.

I've stepped up my workouts to try to combat any further weight gain, but when I get home I'm so exhausted that I really just want to sleep all day. But there are kids to feed and laundry to wash and toilets to clean, so napping doesn't happen as much as I'd like.

Oh, and my hair is falling out by the handful. I have to buy Draino at least once a week.

I'm waiting on a referral to an endocrinologist and hopefully we can figure something out.

So, that's why I haven't been writing as much lately. Not just here but in general--texts and e-mails and notes included.

And Janey? Thanks again for asking. I wanted to whine about it but couldn't find a good excuse.

~Brandi

Guns 'n Nerdses

I'd want this one.

So, Will wants a gun.

I realize this may sound strange considering I'm talking about someone in the Army who carries a firearm daily, but I've never thought of him as a "gun person." I don't even know what a gun person is--I just never thought he was one of them. But apparently he is.

The idea of a gun in our house makes me really uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. I'm not one of those people who thinks guns should be banned. I just...I don't know. The idea of it doesn't sit well with me.

I partially blame Beverly Hills 90210.

If you're between the ages of 32 and 40 you know what I'm talking about.



See? This is what can happen when nerds handle guns. This was etched into my 16 year old brain.

I've taught my kids over and over to never touch a gun without an adult's permission even if they think it's a toy gun. I've explained and explained that if a real gun has bullets in it, they could accidentally kill someone else or themselves. However, when we were standing in line at Wal-Mart last week, Liam spied a toy gun laying on the shelf at the check out. He picked it up, pointed it at Amelia and pulled the trigger. Then he proclaimed, "O.K., it's only a toy gun. I just checked. No bullets came out."

Will says that if we got one, we'd keep it unloaded and locked in a safe. While that would ease my mind, it also seems to defeat the purpose of having a gun. I'm sure an intruder is going to wait for me to open the safe and load the gun before he kills us all.

And then he played the zombie apocalypse card. Which, you know, he has a point.

What do you think, internets? Do you have a gun? How do you feel about them in your house? Scott Scanlon flashbacks aside, do you have any ideas as to why the thought of a gun bothers me so much? I need your insight.

Mullet Monday!

I've got a Very Special installment of Mullet Monday for you today, internets.

Behold the awesomeness that is...




...MY mullet, circa 1986.

That's me in the stripes. I thought I was pretty hot stuff in that outfit. I remember that I got it to wear for fifth grade field day. You can't see it, but it had an open back with just a few straps criss-crossing it to keep it all together. Also? That's all one piece. The top and bottom are attached.

Between my fashion sense and obviously cutting edge hair style, I can't understand why I wasn't popular.

It's a mystery.

That one time my anniversary sucked.

My actual wedding ring. Which I love. So if you don't like it
feel free to shut your pie hole.

So, yesterday was my anniversary.

And I was alone.

But it was still better than the last time I was alone for our anniversary. That was four years ago, the first time he was gone for a year.

It was our 10th anniversary, which is kind of a big deal. I don't know why ten is more important than, say, eleven. Eleven is MORE. But we like those nice, even numbers I guess.

Anyway, I woke up to find that Amelia had had a diaper blow out of massive proportions. Liam was sick. Ben was...Ben. Will was on a British base in Iraq getting the crap bombed out of it. It wasn't a great day.

And then sometime after breakfast I noticed that the diamond from my wedding ring was gone.

On my 10th anniversary.

When I was alone.

I know that it's just a thing. Just a stone that can be replaced. I mean, it came from ShopKo, not Tiffany's, and was bought during an 80% off sale with my employee discount on top of that (Don't knock 80% off sales and employee discounts, people. We saved over $2500. It's better than a fistful of coupons and a shopping cart full of hot dogs and Jello). But anyway, I was really, really upset. I locked myself in my room and cried for about an hour.

Then I searched the house with a magnifying glass. The problem was, I had no idea when I lost it. I discovered it was gone on my anniversary, but it could have been missing for days before that. It was gone.

I sucked it up and got it replaced. I didn't even upgrade to a bigger diamond and it still cost twice as much as we originally paid for the ring.

I had a point here but I don't remember what it was anymore.

Don't pay full price for jewelry? Anniversaries suck when you're alone? I should have replaced it with cubic zirconium and saved a few hundred bucks?

I think it was something like that.

In any case, yesterday was disaster free. It still sucked that we couldn't be together, but it was nice to wake up and realize that we've made it through 14 years without divorcing and/or killing each other.

That's no small feat.

Queen of the backhanded compliment.

Don't let her sweetness fool you.

Amelia, at the tender age of five, has mastered the art of the backhanded compliment. Her only saving grace is that she isn't deliberately trying to leave my ego in a shattered mess. She'll save that for when she's 15 and hates me.

Here are a few of her latest ego-busting observations:

• "Your hugs are so much softer now that you're fatter."

• "It's great that that big hair on your chin is white, because it makes it hard to see."

• "You cook the most wonderfulest food ever, even though it always makes me throw up in my mouth."

• "You look like just like a famous person--Justin Bieber's grandma!"

• "Your voice is like an angel...who has a sore throat."

• "That polish on your toe nails is beautiful! It makes your feet look normal."

• "I don't miss Ms. Hall [her kindergarten teacher] because you look just like her!" [Ms. Hall is in her late sixties, and looks it.]

• "Mmmmm! What is that delicious smell like hot dogs? Mom, I think it's your breath!"

• [While looking at a picture of the Earth from outer space] "It's so beautiful. It's kind of like your legs--all white and blue swirls."

• "You have whiskers like the cats!"

Patriotism swells in the heart of the American bear.

(If you know where that quote comes from without looking it up, we should hang out sometime.)

So, today I did what Oprah has referred to as "the ugly cry" on my front porch. But that's O.K., because there were fifty or so burly bikers and a good number of people from our community doing it with me.

I've mentioned that I'm kind of a hermit and I don't really know my neighbors, but this week I have learned a bit about our neighbors across the street. They're Chaz and Jessica Allen, and their two young daughters.

The Allens.
(Image stolen from The Leaf Chronicle.)

Chaz is a Staff Sergeant in the Army and was deployed to Afghanistan. On January 22nd he stepped on an IED (improvised explosive device) which blew off both of his legs and shattered his elbow. But thankfully, he survived. He's been at Walter Reed Army Medical Center in Washington, D.C. since then.

His wife had to quit her job, and has spent the past several months alternating between spending a week here with her kids, and then a week in D.C. with her husband. Thanks to the kindness of those who have donated to organizations like Hero Miles, all of her plane tickets were paid for.

The rest of his unit came home in April. For those of you who aren't familiar with them, when a unit comes home from a deployment, it's a big deal. I'm sure you've seen pictures of families running across tarmacs, arms open, to greet their returning soldier. That's not just the stuff of movies--that's how it really is. It's extremely emotional.

SSG Allen was finally given the O.K. to come home for good today. Some of his friends felt bad that he'd missed out on the grand homecoming the others had gotten, so they arranged for a surprise homecoming for him at the small, local airfield he'd be flying into.

Local radio stations found out and got the whole community in on it. So, hundreds of people--most who had never even met SSG Allen or his family--showed up to greet his plane with cheers and signs.

And then the Patriot Guard escorted him and his family home.

The Patriot Guard entering the neighborhood.

Everyone in our neighborhood knew he'd be coming, and we all came out to wave and cheer as they came into the neighborhood.

The neighborhood converging to welcome him home.

And that's when I kind of lost it. I didn't cry because I was sad for him. I mean, I am--it's a horrible thing to lose both legs in that way. But he's doing extraordinarily well, and his family is being taken care of. I cried because of the outpouring of love and support from strangers for this family that was happening on my doorstep. Have I mentioned that our city rocks? Because it does. It may not be the prettiest place, and we may have the smallest, crappiest Target I've ever been to, but the people here love the military, and will pretty much do anything to support them.

The Allen's current home is two stories. They've added a ramp to the front, and have made some modifications inside, but what they really need to do is build a single story home to accommodate SSG Allen's needs. Fundraisers are being held this weekend, and ongoing donations are being accepted. If any of you feel so inclined, you can donate HERE.

And if you know a military member, go thank them. Right now. Don't wait for a designated holiday.

Get off my lawn! (Just kidding, large biker men.)

No title for you!

Look! I'm not dead!

Sorry about the hiatus. It wasn't planned. The tech guys at Blogger apparently got taken up in the rapture, because I (and thousands of others) couldn't log in for days. And once it was finally working again, I was too busy. Basically, until this moment, I haven't sat down since Sunday.

I don't normally do bullet point posts, but today it just seems easiest. (I haven't sat down since Sunday, remember?)

• Say what you will about Facebook, but I kind of love it. Sure, it can be terrible if used for the wrong reasons (posting drunken nudie pics of yourself, hooking up with exes, posting drunken nudie of yourself while hooking up with your exes, Farmville), but when used properly it's great. With Will gone, all the little inane things I would normally tell him need an outlet. Hello, Facebook! (Send me a friend request if you don't have quite enough inane rambling in your life.)

• It's amazing the difference the absence of one kid makes. I dropped Ben off at a week long overnight camp on Monday. Since then, there is no pee on the toilet. There is no screaming in the house. Liam and Amelia have played Wii all afternoon without a single physical altercation. When Ben is home, Wii playing usually ends up looking like a scene from Cops. All that's missing is the trailer.
  

• Speaking of Ben's camp, it's nicer than most resorts I've been to. It's quite swanky--vaulted ceilings, skylights, air conditioning, spa-like showers and bathrooms in the cabin. He's in for a rude awakening next week when he goes to Scout camp and has to sleep in a tent (that he has to set up himself), poop in the woods and bathe in a cold lake.

Ben on his bunk at swanky-camp

• Liam is really, really good at entertaining himself and making the best of his situation. Being the mean mom that I am, I won't buy him a Nintendo DS. So, he made his own. And he's been playing with it for hours.

The front (top) and back (bottom) of Liam's DS. The game on the screen? Super Liam.

• I don't know what the muscles in your armpits are called, but mine are soon to be hulk-like. I started swimming laps again after taking a year off. Nothing hurts but my armpits.

• I had to have a discussion about ebonics and making sweeping blanket statements with the kids last week. Ben, for whatever reason, has started saying ain't all the time. Liam informed him that "only brown people and people with missing teeth say ain't."
  

• Speaking of Life According to Liam, Batman only wears a cape so no one will see that he's not wearing any pants. Seems like a reasonable explanation to me.

• As peaceful as it is with Ben gone, I'll be glad when he gets back so I can stop cleaning the litter box. And before someone cries Duggar, let me assure you that he was consulted before I agreed to host the kitties, and was on board with this chore assignment.

• It's so hot out today that even the cats are laying on the AC vents.

• I'm freaking tired.