Irrational Fears

I like to think that each one of us has irrational fears. Even if it's just one. Even if we don't admit it to the people around us.

Or at least thinking that makes me feel better.


See, I have A LOT of irrational fears. Most of them ridiculously dumb. Well, okay, ALL of then ridiculously dumb.


I'm going to share one of them with you. The one my hubby makes fun of me the most for.


I am CONVINCED that if I open my eyes underwater in a swimming pool, there will be a shark, and it will eat me.


I'm dead serious. I've had this fear since I was a little kid.


See, I'll be in a pool, having fun, minding my own business . . .

I duck underwater to wet my hair . . .

I'm all happy . . . . but I feel watched. I open my eyes.

OMG is it behind me? Is there a shark behind me?

OMFG A SHARK IN THE POOL!!! THERE'S AN EFFING SHARK IN THE POOL!!!!!!! WTF?!?!?

Don't judge me. I can't help it if there's sharks in swimming pools waiting to eat me. Maybe people should spend more time cleaning their pools. Then there wouldn't be such a problem with sharks in them.

Seriously, I'm NOT crazy . . .

Well maybe a little.
So I went to my doctor today (a different doc at my family practice office) as I can't get in to see a psychiatrist. It seems Colorado Springs is chalk-full of crazies and no one is accepting new clients. Awesome.
So anyway, I go to see PA Foss, to talk about my depression, and meds, and what I should be doing. I told her that I took myself off of the Prestiq as it made me feel like crap, and that I put myself back on Zoloft and increased the dose from 150mg to 200mg (the max dose). I'm all I stopped the Prestiq 2 dayse ago and I'm on day 3 of being back on the Zoloft and I feel fantastic! And she's all okaaaaaaay. So I tell her - it's okay - I'm a nurse! She kind of nods her head knowingly.
Then she asks me how my moods were before I ever started an antidepressant. So I tell her about knowing I had depressive feelings in middle school, and that I was a cutter in 6th grade but that I totally sucked at it because I don't like pain, and that most of the time I felt pretty normal but just with marked depressive periods. Then shes all have you ever spent money you didn't have on things you didn't need? And I'm all nooooo . . . . .wait! Yes! Yes I did! And then, did you ever go days on only a couple hours of sleep? Ummmmm, yeeeeeeees? When I was younger - you know - in my early 20's.
(I'm starting to feel slightly uneasy at this point, mind you). Then she asks, ever think you could take ever the world? And I'm all DUH! I'm freaking awesome! I could totally do it! She stares at me. I'm all I'm just joking, you know. I couldn't take over the world. Not without help, at least. I need minions.
She nods again. I feel a little crazy. I'm thinking, is she testing me? Man, I'm gonna fail . . .
But then she tells me she thinks that I don't have depression. She thinks I'm BIPOLAR.
Wait. What?
She says, not the crazy, full-on manic type of bipolar. Type 2, which generally has periods of elevated mood followed by depression. You fit that to a T. And most antidepressants don't work for you. And when you find one that does (Zoloft), you have to keep increasing the dose, which gives you an elevated mood for awhile, followed by depression again.
Which is too true, y'all.
I kinda laugh and say, funny you should mention bipolar. My husband has said that for a while now. (she's just staring at me). I mean, because, I always share way too much inappropriate stuff with everyone. People I work with know all about my vagina.
(she just keeps staring). I mean, people I know pretty well. They think it's hilarious. (SHIT. She has to think I'm crazy. Thanks a lot, mouth).
She says, yeah, that's pretty hallmark behavior. But there's no TMI in here!
Anyway, we're keeping me on the Zoloft and slowly adding Lamictal, which is a mood stabilizer for Bipolar disorder.
We'll see how it goes.

Confessions of a Coffee Crazed Nurse

The things that my patients tell me never cease to amaze me.

Take for example Jane, and her husband John (no, not their real names!). So, they're an odd couple to begin with, and have questions about everything.

For example, baby has hiccups. John, "why does he have hiccups? What does that mean? Is that bad? What do you do for hiccups? Should you call the pediatrician?"

Um, dude, your baby has hiccups. Why do you get hiccups? What does that mean? Should we call your cardiologist? Calm down. It's hiccups.

So anyway, John comes to the nurse's station with this deer-in-the-headlights look. I look at him expectantly. He says "I need you for a couple of things."

Me: Okay.

John: Um, can you bring a mop to the room?

Me: Okaaaaaaaaay . . . .

John: And could you take a look at Jane? She's peeing sideways.

Me: Uhhhhhhhhh, sure . . . . (I'm totally thinking WTF do you mean by peeing sideways?)

John: (as we're walking to his room) I don't know what it is. It's like she sits down to pee, and it just shoots out sideways.

Me: Riiiiiiight.

So I go into the bathroom in their room and ask Jane what's up.

Jane: I don't know. When I pee it kinda trickles down my leg a little onto the floor.

Now, let me share something with you. Jane is a big gal. Big. One of her thighs is the circumference of my hips. I don't know if you've ever been sitting on the toilet, slightly more forward than normal, with your legs pressed very firmly together. Pee tends to pool right there. Right where your thighs form a little triangle with your vag.

Trust me. Every woman has experienced this one time or another. And if you say no, you're totally lying.

But I don't have the heart to tell her "dude, you need to sit farther back on the toilet and spread your legs ever so slightly. See, you is rather ample sized, and your vag needs to be completely over the toilet opening. Not mashed between your thunder thighs.

Yeah. Very inappropriate to say that.

So instead I tell her to do some kegels. Seriously y'all. I'm all "well, your pelvic floor muscles have been stretched during pregnancy and delivery, so you need to do kegels to strengthen them. This will help move the bladder back into it's normal position, and will also help with stress incontinence later on in life."

Win for me.

I'm a Good Parent!

So yesterday I took Ayden to the gym, like I always do. We're leaving and out at the car. I opened the back passenger side door so he could get in his car seat. I opened the passenger side front door as well and set down my purse and water bottle and took off my coat. In the process of doing this, Ayden crawled up front and was pretending to drive. Yay! Ayden's driving! Vroom vroom! Yay! You put on the turn signal! Woohoo! Alright dude, now get back in your seat so we can leave.
I close the front door, buckle Ayden in his seat, and go around to the drivers side.
WHAT. THE. HELL.
Oh God. The door is locked.
The back door?
Shit. Locked.
Oh no oh no oh no oh no.
Run around to the passenger back door. Ayden is smiling. He's happy. He's laughing. Does he not sense my panic???
*knocking on the window* Ayden, honey, can you try to unlock the door for mommy? Okay, seriously dude, stop laughing and unlock the door for mommy.
No dice.
I can't believe this happened. What the hell?????
Luckily a nice lady was getting her kids into her car (conveniently next to mine) and let me use her cell phone.
Daddy to the rescue!!!
I'm so glad it was 45 degrees out and windy and I was in a tank top and capris.
Awesome.
It took Jeremy 30 minutes to get there, but the relief of seeing him drive up . . . .man.
Note to self - NEVER put your keys down when you have a sheisty toddler.

MIKE THE HEADLESS CHICKEN!!!

Hell yes! My hubby Jeremy sent me an email about a wonderful festival held yearly in Fruita Colorado. It's a festival to celebrate Mike the headless chicken, who lived for 18 months after having his head lopped off. That's right. 18 FREAKING MONTHS! WITHOUT A HEAD! It sounds crazy, I know!

"September 10th, 1945 finds a strapping (but tender) five and a half month old Wyandotte rooster pecking through the dust of Fruita, Colorado. The unsuspecting bird had never looked so delicious as he did that, now famous, day. Clara Olsen was planning on featuring the plump chicken in the evening meal. Husband Lloyd Olsen was sent out, on a very routine mission, to prepare the designated fryer for the pan. Nothing about this task turned out to be routine. Lloyd knew his Mother in Law would be dining with them and would savor the neck. He positioned his ax precisely, estimating just the right tolerances, to leave a generous neck bone. "It was as important to Suck-Up to your Mother in Law in the 40's as it is today." A skillful blow was executed and the chicken staggered around like most freshly terminated poultry.
Then the determined bird shook off the traumatic event and never looked back. Mike (it is unclear when the famous rooster took on the name) returned to his job of being a chicken. He pecked for food and preened his feathers just like the rest of his barnyard buddies."

But wait! How is this possible?

Well, Lloyd left just enough of Mike's brain stem so that he was still functioning like a normal chicken. Being a good farmer (really?) Lloyd stopped the bleeding and proceeded to feed and water Mike (by placing food directly into his esophagus).

Long video, but pretty funny.
Go check out Mike the headless chicken!

Some funny things . . .

Today I'm sharing some funny musings and pics. Why not? We all need humor!

The quotes are from people in their late 20's. I got them in an email from a friend. And the pics are from the site People of Walmart. Enjoy!

-Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk.

----I've totally done this.

-----Um, I really don't know what to say about this one.

- How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?

-----yeah, we've all been there.

----How am I supposed to slap a ho without a balance breakfast?

-I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.

-----This is so, so true! Especially when I'm at the gym . . .

----I don't know why you're laughing. This guy is HAWT!!

Hope you enjoyed today! I need all the help I can get today with a cranky 2 year old screaming that he "has boogers" yet won't blow his nose or let me use the bulb syringe to suck them out. Nope. Just cries and whines and screams and throws things. Awesome.

Anyone with kids can appreciate this!

I got this on myspace from a friend, and it is just so perfect! If you have a toddler, you will know this feeling! Priceless!

A 3-year-old tells all from his mother's restroom stall.by: Shannon Popkin

My little guy, Cade, is quite a talker. He loves to communicate and does it quite well. He talks to people constantly, whether we are in the library, the grocery store or at a drive-thru window. People often comment on how clearly he speaks for a just-turned-3-year-old. And you never have to ask him to turn up the volume. It's always fully cranked.

There have been several embarrassing times that I've wished the meaning of his words would have been masked by a not-so-audible voice, but never have I wished this more than last week at Costco. Halfway through our shopping trip nature called, so I took Cade with me into the restroom. If you'd been one of the ladies in the restroom that evening, this is what you would have heard coming from the second to the last stall:''Mommy, are you gonna go potty? Oh! Why are you putting toiwet paper on the potty, Mommy? Oh! You gonna sit down on da toiwet paper now? Mommy, what are you doing? Mommy, are you gonna go stinkies on the potty?''

At this point I started mentally counting how many women had been in the bathroom when I walked in. Several stalls were full ... 4? 5? Maybe we could wait until they all left before I had to make my debut out of this stall and reveal my identity. Cade continued: ''Mommy, you ARE going stinkies aren't you? Oh, dats a good girl, Mommy! Are you gonna get some candy for going stinkies on the potty? Let me see doze stinkies, Mommy! Oh...Mommy! I'm trying to see In dere. Oh! I see dem. Dat is a very good girl, Mommy.You are gonna get some candy!''

I heard a few faint chuckles coming from the stalls on either side of me. Where is a screaming new born when you need her? Good grief. This was really getting embarrassing. I was definitely waiting a long time before exiting. Trying to divert him I said, ''Why don't you look in Mommy's purse and see if you can find some candy. We'll both have some!''

''No, I'm trying to see doze more stinkies....Oh! Mommy!'' He started to gag at this point. ''Uh - oh, Mommy. I fink I'm gonna frow up.Mommy, doze stinkies are making me frow up!! Dat is so gross!!''As the gags became louder, so did the chuckles outside my stall.. I quickly flushed the toilet in hopes of changing the subject. I began to reason with myself: OK. There are four other toilets. If I count four flushes, I can be reasonably assured that those who overheard this embarrassing monologue will be long gone.

''Mommy! Would you get off the potty, now? I want you to be done going stinkies! Get up! Get up!'' He grunted as he tried to pull me off. Now I could hear full-blown laughter. I bent down to count the feet outside my door.''Oh, are you wooking under dere, Mommy? You wooking under da door? What were you wooking at? Mommy? You wooking at the wady's feet?''

More laughter. I stood inside the locked door and tried to assess the situation.''Mommy, it's time to wash our hands, now. We have to go out now, Mommy.'' He started pounding on the door.''Mommy, don't you want to wash your hands? I want to go out!!''I saw that my wait 'em out' plan was unraveling. I sheepishly opened the door, and found standing outside my stall, twenty to thirty ladies crowded around the stall, all smiling and starting to applaud. My first thought was complete embarrassment, then I thought, where's the fine print on the 'motherhood contract' where I signed away every bit of my dignity and privacy? But as my little boy gave me a big, cheeky grin while he rubbed bubbly soap between his chubby little hands, I thought, I'd sign it all away again, just to be known as Mommy to this little fellow.

Shannon Popkin is a freelance writer and mother of three. She lives with her family in Grand Rapids , Michigan ,where she no longer uses public restrooms.Isn't it great to be a parent!!!

I can totally see Ayden doing something like this!