Dang You, Day 1!!!

So I’ve been telling my friends and family for a while now that I’m going to quit smoking. The main reason I haven’t quit and stuck to it (because I’ve quit), is because of the AWFUL side effects of quitting smoking. Seriously, it feels like a lose-lose situation. On the one hand, I can continue to smoke, have zero stamina, and all will be right with the world. Every one will be alive. I just will never go on a jog without keeling over and I’ll continue to be a bad influence on my kids and other kids–because this smoker does NOT condone smoking (hypocrite much?)

On the other hand, I can quit. Quitting gradually has not helped because even when the dependency is gone, the addiction still exists. So while my body may not care, my mind is like, you would SMOKE in this situation. DO IT. I don’t wanna. :/ Quitting cold turkey turns me into Katie Kaboom.

I know you remember her…

On the other hand, I could—oh wait! I only have 2 hands. That’s half my problem. The problem with announcing you’re going to do something is that everyone expects you to be perfect at it. I can only quit for myself. Not everyone else. I can’t quit and be your poster-girl. I can’t quit and talk to your exasperating kids about why you should never start in the first place. I’m not going to the cancer ward to remind myself of what smoking does to my body and read old folks stories simultaneously. That will make me go through a whole pack in 5 minutes. I only have the minute I’m in to decide whether or not I’m going to smoke. I also have Klonopin.

Klonopin is an anti-anxiety medication which should help when I’m feeling especially murderous and need a cigarette. Unfortunately, it seems like Klonopin intensifies the side effects of quitting, but in a calm way. Confused? Let me help you.

When you quit smoking, you are exhausted.  It’s like your body goes into overdrive trying to find any semblance of nicotine it can, and in order to do that, you should probably be asleep. So I passed out all yesterday. Not to mention, Klonopin makes you sleepy the first couple of weeks you take it. So I was a zombie yesterday. It’s not good to be a zombie with a 5 month old.

You sweat. You sweat profusely. Normally, I’d just be lying in bed, drenched in my stinky sweat, praying it’s not time for him to nurse again. The Klonopin told my body in a proverbial hippie voice, “hey, maaan. You’re way too cool to sweat. Just hang out at the pores, and be like, metaphorical, you know?”  So my stupid sweat listened. Have you ever had that feeling? The feeling of sweat wanting to break through, but not being able to. It’ itchy, painful, annoying. It makes me want to smoke.

Then, there’s the mucus. All day long, you walk around with dry mouth and a throat full of curdled milk. Obviously, not really a throat full of curdled milk, but it feels like it. When it gets hocked up into a loogie, you try to spit it out, but this loogie is so voluminous that it doesn’t fly into the tissue or on the sidewalk. It lands on your chin. Or the part of your hand that isn’t covered by the tissue. And while this instance alone is enough to make me rage out, Klonopin is sitting on my shoulder, whispering in my ear, “Hey maaaan. I know that pisses you off. And it should. But looook at it. It’s gross but kinda coool. Take a picture of it.” 
So those are the side effects so far. Sorry for the rambling. It’s just been that kind of day.

**Does anyone know of any helpful tips to make quitting easier?? Leave a comment!**

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Eff You, Too, Miranda

Happy Monday, readers! So this weekend Jesse started his actual job, and we found out that he will be working from sunup to sundown for weeks on end. So pretty much, I’m never going to see my husband again unless he has block leave (the soldiers’ 2-week reward vacation after being treated like a slave). So yesterday, I decided I was going to unpack some more –there isn’t a lot left, just need the time to get to it—and Judas decided he was constipated and had to scream the entire day. He and I were miserable together.* So, I got to ‘straighten’ up my living room, and the rest of my day was spent nursing, comforting, singing to Judas.

DH saying goodbye to Jude before work.

Today, the husband had to be at work 6:30, and today was going to be attempt #2 at cleaning up. I finally got Jude down, and ran downstairs to clean up. I opened my dishwasher to find my dishwasher sucks SUPER-HARD and didn’t wash my dishes. So I’m going to have to hand-wash them. Unfortunately, the water in my new house is lukewarm at best, so I had to call maintenance to get some hot water so I can clean properly. So I swept and mopped the living room, cleaned off the counters and stove and am about to sweep and mop the kitchen when my DS decides his nap is over. Sigh. Well, I guess I can put him in the stroller and we can go check the mail. No one loves me; Jesse got something from the post office, though.

I decided to roll Judas around the house in the stroller while I put things away. I shoved some army gear in the closet, and I’m stopped in my tracks. There is a box from Things Remembered that his ex-girlfriend gave him. I told him to throw this box away. He didn’t. I’m going to assume he just forgot because it was in a pile of crap next to the front door. I look at this box, and I realize, it’s kind of nice. Unfortunately, it has a ‘beautiful’ engraving on it from the ex.

“Jesse,
You Complete Me,
Love Always, Saima”

I’m a jealous hater (only sometimes) and I WANT this box, but in order to keep it, I need to get that chick’s words OFF! So I take it upon myself to get a steak knife and try to pry off the engraved plate. I’m getting excited because surely but slowly, it’s coming off.

I guess it was a spiteful thing to do. I could have just thrown the box away. But no, I had to put my mark on it. And karma decided to put its mark on me. The knife slipped and I stabbed myself in the middle finger. It was pretty deep. So, I bled all over my kitchen. I had to pick up Judas and carry him upstairs so I could rinse the blood off. So now I have a hole in my finger, that stupid box is still on my kitchen counter-engraving attached, and I wasted like 15 minutes of my life being an idiot. That’s what I get…

This was right after I rinsed some of the blood off so it doesn’t look as horrible.

*Side note: If your infant is constipated, and you need to give them some instant relief, use Karo light corn syrup. Just 1 tsp is all it takes. They should some relief within an hour or two.

P.S. I have some pretty awesome stories to share throughout the week, so stay tuned for more.

Screw Father’s Day

So this past Mother’s Day, I woke up to kisses from my sweet husband, breakfast in bed, lilies on the nightstand and a spa day awaiting me, child-free. I was so happy that I—Oh, wait. No.

No, that’s what I wished had happened. Instead, I had a grumpy husband, who ignored me for his video game most of the day and…was less than verbally polite when he actually did acknowledge my presence. He went and spent around $300 dollars on himself and his brother, and I got a card…the next day. Mandi and our friend Jessica begged him to just tell me ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ and I wouldn’t be so mad, but he refused to do that. As a matter of fact, he didn’t say it until the next afternoon in Burger King. He told me that since the day before went so poorly, we were going to have Mother’s Day that day. I honestly can’t remember what we did. I think we went and saw a movie…but I was so extremely heated that it didn’t really matter to me. Of course, to keep the peace, I acted like he was being so sweet and I was so grateful for his generosity. In reality, I spent Sunday to Thursday crying whenever I found time alone. I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal. It’s just a Hallmark holiday, right? Wrong. I have postpartum depression, and everyday I plaster a smile on  because I want to seem like a cheerful wife and mother for the sake of my family. So, I deserved a day to be treated like I was worth something like every other mother the one day of the year our kids/husbands make an effort to show they care. I didn’t get that.

So for Father’s Day tomorrow, I’m going to get a hammer, smash his laptop, sell his tools while he’s asleep, and get some scissors and cut the crotch out of all his…Oh, wait. No. No…That’s just what I want to do.

I’m actually going to wake him up with kisses, make him breakfast in bed, get him something special, and try not to knock his face off because I love him…

Random Rants

I guess I thought that if I waited long enough, something good would have happened and I could write about that… :/

So I never know if I should hand out good news or bad news first. It seems like, if I give out the bad news first, the good news will make it seem a little better. If I give out the good news first, the bad news could ruin the just received bad news. If I give out the bad news first, the good news might not be good enough to overshadow the crappiness of the bad news. These are things that go through my mind when writing. See, I don’t want my blog to seem emo…but my life is kind of jacked. Haha.  A lot has happened since I last wrote. Since I’m low on time, this will be a series of blogs over the next couple of days.  

I have recovered from the surgery pretty well.  I’m mostly healed. There is still a tiny knot above my navel from the sutures and my piercing is gone, but, oh well. I can dance now. I can do some yoga. I still can’t do “hardcore” ab work yet, but almost. I’m going to start walking on Monday and getting rid of some of the baby fat. Every one keeps telling me I’m vain because I want to go back to a size 1-3. I KNOW that being a 9 isn’t fat. I don’t think (depending on how well you take care of your body) that a 16 is ‘fat.’ HOWEVER, even my stretchiest  pair of jeans are ripping at the crotch…so sue me for wanting to fit into my clothes again and not having to buy a whole new wardrobe, ya know? Sorry for the rant lol.

My semester of school is over. I went from a 3.7 to a 2.286. It sucks so badly. I know that I only got that low of a GPA because of my circumstances, but in a way, I feel like I should have been able to push myself to do better, regardless of how much I had going on. To me, school is WAY too important to mess up. I have too much to lose to not make it.  On another rant…:

Have you ever heard someone use the word, ‘irregardless?’ Does that make you want to punch their face off? I heard someone say it today in the furniture store, and I swear I almost gave them an English lesson. For anyone who doesn’t know this, allow me to save your face from being punching off via your neck: “irregardless” is NOT a word. It is stupid. It’s pretty much saying, ‘regardless of it being regardless, I’m an idiot and can’t speak English correctly.’ Please don’t say this near an English nazi. You may be pummeled.

Back to the blog, I really don’t want to fail school. I just want to be someone my kids can look up to. I know this blog is messy. But I’m in the middle of unpacking. I’m throwing some laundry in…and then I’ll be back. Stay tuned.Image

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