A place where I will put stuff that doesn't neatly fit into any other catagories and where I will do my best to keep bad spelling and typos down to a bare minimum. :)
Thursday, August 26, 2004
posted by Carol at
9:07 AM (Pacific)
My grandma is sick.
She was in the hospital all last week.
They released her Monday with the diagnosis of a UTI. Last I heard, she was home but not doing well at all.
Shes 84.
I had a feeling at the start of this year that I was going to lose not only Jons mom, but my grandma as well. I wish I knew more what was wrong with her, but the way my family communicates with each other thats just not going to happen.
I can't and don't want to be dragged (or should that be drug?) into the theatrics that have already begun around the fact that my grandma is old, not well, and is going to need care. Fortunately, my grandma and 2 aunts live 2 hours away from me, near Chicago and my mother lives 2 hours away from me, near Indianapolis. I just have to listen to my mom call me every single night and rant and rave about it.
I watched my 64 year old mother-in-law die, I can't handle listening to my mom carry on and on and on about my grandmas situtation. My grandmas 84 years old. Shes lived a long, healthy, happy life. I hope she gets better and if she doesn't I hope to heaven she doesn't suffer. My mom and her sisters have been very fortunate that she (grandma) has lived so well, for so long, on her own, without getting ill or needing some type of care. Did they never think this day would come?
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
posted by Carol at
6:29 PM (Pacific)
Alright,
so I made a mid-year, mid-summer, back-to-school resolution of blogging every day even if I blog cr@p. You've been forewarned, the following post is probably cr@p. You may leave now or forever hold your peace.
Volleyball season started so the old man had his first game of the night to go ref. I made a dinner consisting of chicken nuggets and seasoned curly fries. Total junk food, no nutritional value whatsoever. I don't even want to know what the fat and calorie count of it was. Dinner out of a bag, er, two bags. Bag o' fries and Bag o' processed pressed chicken meat.
It was yummy.
The boys and I scarfed them down with wild abandon, bliss and glee. I ate my fries with ketchup and my nuggets with spicy brown mustard. d@mn, it was good. The boys dipped theirs in mayo.
Call the food police.
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
posted by Carol at
2:25 PM (Pacific)
I'm going to try and blog more. Its been forever since I've done any writing at all, anywhere. I used to faithfully keep a paper journal. It was my lifeline, writing. If I didn't write, I'd start to lose my mind. Somewhere this year I stopped writing. Stopped blogging, stopped posting on message boards and stopped my journaling as well. Not sure why, not sure how, am sure I've got to get back to it.
So, we'll start off this writing resolution with a rant. a vent, really. about my mother.
My father informed me today that my mother thinks I'm doing drugs because I've recently lost quite abit of weight.
ARGH!!!!
I've lost about 20 pounds all together. I lost about 15 at the end of last year, gained about 7 of that back due to my MIL getting sick and dying of pancreatic cancer at the start of this year. I got myself back in the groove at the start of summer. lost the 7 I'd gained back plus a little bit more. I've gone from being a couch potato, to walking 2 miles a day to RUNNING 2 miles a day and am hoping to run a 5k race (3 miles) this fall. I also lift weights 3 or 4 times a week. AND I'm watching every bite of food that goes into my mouth via Weight Watchers.
I am busting my ass, every single day of the week.
I.
BUST.
MY.
ASS.
and she thinks its drugs.
I've talked to her until I am blue in the face about all of the changes I have done to get me to this point. I've told her everything I am doing. I've showed her my food journals and my exercise journal. But noooooooooo, none of that matters. It cant actually be ME and all of my hard work thats gotten me to this point, no, drugs. thats it, its gotta be drugs.
