I Can't Pick Up My Baby Girl!

One of those moments of snuggling that are
becoming more and more rare.

Today I could not pick up my child and it tore my heart out. Now, my little girl is almost four years old and doesn't often need, or even want, to be picked up. But today, as hubby and I browsed through a local holistic health store, my baby was on the floor, hungry, and wanting to go home. And I couldn't pick her up and comfort her and let her little head snuggle into my neck.

For quite a while now I have had an ongoing pain in my lower left abdomen. Sometimes it becomes a severe, shooting pain which makes it impossible to even walk. Well, on Sunday, the pain became unbearable and I finally decided I should do something about it. I went to my nurse practitioner today and went through all the normal routines for pelvic pain. Women - you know what I am talking about. No explanations needed I hope. She even had to do testing for chlamydia/gonorrhea, which wasn't at all humiliating seeing as I have been with my husband for about 8 years now...

Her determination is that I actually have a strained/pulled/or torn ligament or muscle in my hip flexer from my high impact cardio-kickboxing. I have a CT scan scheduled for tomorrow morning, so I guess we'll see how that turns out. But this could mean a 2-3 month hiatus from kickboxing (sniff...) as well as physical therapy. There are several problems with this scenario.

1. The holiday season is coming up. My workouts give me a little more wiggle room to enjoy my homemade hot cocoa, cookies, latkes, homemade applesauce, pumpkin pie, etc.

2. This could mean a return to Weight Watchers where I am a "Lifetime Member." But I dread going back. I am over my goal weight and have a very difficult time with the way they try to get you to eat. I don't believe in eating fat-free everything, I like my bread from a local bakery, and I refuse to include any artificial sweeteners or high fructose corn syrup in our diets. Even my diabetic husband has begun using Stevia instead of Splenda.

So, you can see my dilemma. I love to eat. I love to eat, fresh, healthy, organic, REAL food. I love to workout. And I can't lie. I do imagine people's faces on that bag when I am punching it, which is fantastic stress relief.

But, back to the MOST important part of this whole mess. I can't pick up my baby. My baby who doesn't want to be carried very often any more. And she wanted to snuggle up to my body and I couldn't even pick her up because of my severe pain. I feel these moments slipping away from me. And I couldn't be in this moment. I couldn't pick her up, smell her long blond hair draped over my shoulder. It makes my heart ache even more than my abdomen aches.

My Not-So-Useless Plastic Piece of As-Seen-On-TV Crap

I try very hard to avoid buying useless things, especially since I have a three year old who seems to be intent on owning every useless thing she can get her little paws on. Being a self-professed treehugger, I try to consume as little as possible.. (Try is the key word here...) So I was as shocked as anyone else when I became intrigued enough by the "As Seen On TV PedEgg" to buy one. I do have horribly calloused feet and have never done anything about it except for the two pedicures my sister's have talk me in to. I convinced myself that I deserved this little indulgence...this little piece of useless crap. But here it is the catch...it isn't useless! I am completely addicted to it! I can't believe (and prepare to be grossed out here) the piles of sand-like dead skin that I have removed from the bottom of my feet!

Now, let me make a disclaimer here: I am not a high maintenance person. You can even ask my hubby. He has been known to brag about how low maintenance I am. I don't wear make-up or perfume (scary chemicals!), I use Dr. Bronner's Castille Soap as body wash and shampoo (parabens scare me!), my husband cuts my hair (money savings), and a good number of my clothes are either cast offs from my sisters or from Good Will (better for the environment! money saving! excellent cause!). So, I am completely shocked by how much I LOVE how silky smooth my feet are becoming. I find myself peeking at my heels throughout the day and admiring how smooth, clean, and shiny they are! I feel so vain!

So, I am coming out of the closet. I love my little piece of plastic that is probably going to end in a land fill somewhere therefore making my footprint a little bit bigger. However, when my little Ped Egg hits the end of the road, I promise I will recycle it!

Grocery Shopping Fun

Ah...my favorite task. Grocery shopping. We do this as a family because my husband insists on being able to get "his" food. ( After all these years he still thinks I don't know which granola bars he likes.) This trip was a particularly fun one because we had not gone in so long. And I needed to get many dairy products - a very hot topic in our family. I am absolutely insistent that (almost) all dairy be organic. All those antibiotics and growth hormones scare me, not to mention the horrific conditions cows are kept in. As I stood there getting milk, sour cream, cottage cheese, cheddar cheese, kefir, and yogurt, all I heard were grumblings about how we were spending twice/three times as much for this stuff. Tacking on the organic strawberries ($2.00 more), organic carrots (SAME PRICE!!!), and other odds and ends led to a grumbling husband. Not to mention the fact that I try to cut out as many items containing high fructose corn syrup and artificial flavors/colors which leads to a lot of label reading adding on to the length of the shopping trip. To me, this is all well worth the extra time and money for a healthier family and earth. But all I hear is "grumble grumble grumble...organic...grumble grumble grumble...what the hell is wrong with high fructose corn syrup...grumble grumble grumble...reusable grocery bags..."

I do have to give him credit. He is starting to come along nicely as I educate him. And I do understand that we are having a tight month (new brakes, new shocks...gotta love cars), but healthy eating is just not something that can be compromised.

So, that is my little bitch session about grocery shopping with a grumbly husband. Feeling better now that it is off my chest. Hope all my readers enjoyed it. Wait...I have no readers! Oh well! Still feel better getting it off my chest! : )

Preschool Paranoia

Well, here I am. My first attempt to blog. Giving credit where it is due, I first thought about blogging after reading an article by Catherine Newman in Wonder Time magazine about it. Then, last week, I began reading a blog written by a fellow member of my UU fellowship - Alabaster Mom - and decided this was indeed the perfect outlet for me. Now, Alabaster Mom is an incredibly talented writer and I will never come close to her blogs, but that isn't really my goal. I've just been looking for a place to share, blow off steam, and just plain be me. This seems to be the place.

My daughter, S, who turns four in November, just started preschool this year. Every Monday and Wednesday I drop her off at 9:30 and pick her up at 11:30. This is her third week, so we are really just getting used to this. But already I am paranoid. Every day S's teacher brings her to meet me and ALWAYS says, "We did _____ today. She did okay." So fill in the blank with things like "played Memory," "traced the letter A," or "worked on colors and shapes." All of these are things I have worked on with S. I like to think that as a certified teacher, I have some idea of what I am doing here. She can trace all her letters, we play memory, and she has known her colors and shapes since before she was two. So, what does she mean by S doing "okay?" She knows all these things! Hubby and I are starting to think that she is used to getting more attention, so instead of doing things, she pretends to need help in order to grab the teacher's attention. I mean, I don't want to sound like I think my child is perfect, but I know she knows these things. Do I risk coming off as the annoying mom who thinks her child is a perfect genius and should be doing algebra equations at three years old and say something to this teacher, or do I just let it go? Having taught for several years, I don't want to be *that* mom, but I also want S to get something out of this whole preschool thing, not just learn ways to vie for the teacher's attention.

So this is probably not even close to a big deal. It is, after all, three year old preschool. Right?