Category: family

Extended Sentence

Birthday, Depression, family, Health, Keto, Mental Health, Musings, Stress, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Weight loss

Went to the podiatrist yesterday. Got new x-rays taken.

It was not the best of news.

Yes, the bone is starting to heal. There’s calcifications forming and a “bridge” between the two parts where the bone is starting to knit.

But it’s not enough.

Remember how excited I was to possibly be out of this boot in two weeks? Well, he tacked on another two yesterday. Another whole month in this blasted thing.

I know I’ll survive it. I know I’ll be okay… Eventually. I’ll just also be constantly frustrated. And disappointed. And a little depressed.

************************The next day**************************

Yeah, so I was I guess a little tired, too–I kept dozing off while writing that! Lol Still hating the boot this morning, but I’m slightly less depressed about it. That mood will change as the day goes on, though. The longer I’m up walking on it, the heavier it gets, or at least it seems to. You wouldn’t think three pounds would be a terribly huge amount to carry around, but all those steps add up after a while.

This weekend has a forecast of grocery shopping, a small SCA event (no camping involved), and a lot of cleaning around the house. I had been hoping to get a new Skjoldhamn hood made for myself for Coronation, but the outlook isn’t great for it. With how busy we’ve been lately (and with, yes, the boot hampering my ability to do some things as well as I’d like), the house has gotten a bit cluttered. Not, like, dirty, just messy. A lot of “stuff” accumulated. Oh, and my husband’s birthday is Monday, with the dinner party for him after the SCA event tomorrow.

About my husband….This guys is amazing. Seriously. Like, he’s been 100% supportive with the change in diet since I’ve gone keto, even though he himself is not on the diet. He’s constantly trying to figure out new things for me to eat or new ways to cook to accommodate my new eating habits. He now looks at the carb counts on foods in the grocery store to see if I can have X food item or not. He helps me out when my boot becomes a burden, often taking over some of my household chores, and the poor guy has been driving me around everywhere whenever he can. Yeah, I have to get rides to and sometimes from work because his work schedule doesn’t allow him to drop me off, but he takes me to doctor’s appointments and any stores I need to go to and he damn near killed himself driving us to and from Great Western War because I couldn’t take over for any of the driving. No catnaps in the passenger seat, no real chance to rest except for the occasional stop for gas or bathroom breaks. And when the podiatrist gave me my “extended sentence” in the boot, he just shrugged it off and said he’d keep on driving if it meant I healed better and didn’t break myself again. Here are a couple photos of this incredible guy that stole my heart and puts up with my shit:

Y’know, I just realized I don’t have enough pictures of him. I have, like, eleventy million selfies, but not many of my husband. I’m so terrible.

Here’s a good one. The look on his face is because I was messing with the camera on my new phone, and he probably didn’t really want a photo taken at Burger King while he was waiting for his food. See? Puts up with my shit. Lol

He makes it all tolerable though. He makes it all worthwhile. He’s there, 100%, and that’s what matters in the end.

Yeah, I’ve got a month more of the boot. I’ve gotta beg for rides when he’s not available, and I lag behind when we’re out walking anywhere, but he always waits for me to catch up. He always comes to get me when I need it. He’s the reason I am able to do the things I do–his support and encouragement.

Love ya, baby. I promise to drive more when the boot’s off. And to try to learn to cook for myself, so some of the food load is off of you.

It’s all over when the fat man sings

#books, #dreams, #dystopian, #publishing, Abnormal, Age, Birthday, Celebrity, Christmas, Cosplay, costuming, Crafting, embroidery, Exercise, family, Fandom, Fitness, Geek, Health, Holiday, Home, New Year, Novel, Parties, SCA, Sci-fi, Self Publishing, Sewing, Stress, Time, Weight loss, Work, Writing

So maybe it’s not “over” quite yet. I mean, it’s barely 2:00 PM. But the presents have been presented, the family ate breakfast with us, and all-in-all, aside from Christmas dinner at my parents’ house, Christmas is pretty much over. I haven’t even had a full day off from sewing and stuff–my husband just asked how far along I am on the Persian garb. I need to stop being so wicked; no rest, man, no rest at all.

I keep trying to tell myself that after Estrella things will calm down. I’ll have fewer sewing projects, I’ll be able to back away and take a break from SCA events, and I’ll have (theoretically) more time to write. That’s still two months away, though, and I have a crapton of things to do in those two months.

Did I enjoy my Christmas morning? Sure. It was nice having the family over, everyone seemed to love their gifts, and breakfast was tasty. But now, it seems, I don’t know what to do with myself. I could write, sure, but that’s work. So is sewing. And embroidery. I wanted a day off…but it’s not gonna happen. I can see that now.

I’ve been doing a lot of whining as of late. I need to quit that…along with quitting junk food and overeating, and quitting volunteering for all the things, and quitting not going to exercise (though that one will perhaps be the toughest, because I hate exercising in public and the group of friends I work out with now goes to a public gym).

Maybe I can be lazy for another week and save the above paragraph for New Year’s resolutions. Have a big ol’ list of stuff that I’m going to quit or give up or start or start back up. Who knows. I kinda hate resolutions, too. I tend to not get them done if they’re anything associated with me losing weight or getting healthier. The writing ones? Yeah, I can do those. Cosplay goals? If I can lose the weight, I can usually manage. It’s kind of a matter of how hard I want it, or how hard Thing X is. If Thing X is writing, I got this. If Thing X is getting on a treadmill to have half the town watch my fat jiggle, well, Thing X might not be a resolution I’d keep.

What will 2019 bring me? It’ll bring me age 40, hopefully around the time Escaping the Light hits shelves. That would be an awesome birthday present. Forty years old and a three-time published novelist, with two of them traditionally/indie published and one self-published. Yeah. A published sequel will be great for the midlife crisis. Maybe I can become a shut-in when I’m not at work and just churn out novels for the next, say, twenty to twenty-five years. Hit the Golden Years with a bunch of series and standalones.

It’s nice to dream, anyway…

‘Twas the night before Tuesday

#design, Birthday, Christmas, costuming, Crafting, embroidery, family, Friendship, Holiday, Home, Musings, SCA, Sewing, Work

Yeah, I know, that’s not how the line goes. But sometimes, even the day before Christmas, it’s hard to get into the spirit of the holiday.

Let me set a few things straight: I’m not Christian. So really, by “the spirit of the holiday” I mean “the spirit of giving gifts in appreciation of others.” December 25th is just a convenient, easy-to-remember day to give gifts that just happens to coincide with a day when a good portion of humanity is also giving gifts. Birthdays? Sure, I can give gifts on birthdays–if I can manage to remember them. Problem is, I tend to not remember. Facebook is about the only way I remember any birthdays, and that’s kinda cheating. Jesus’s birthday (let’s not argue the validity of the December birthdate just now) is a set date, a fixed point in time. The same every year, for everyone. Easy peasy.

I’ve got all the presents that need to be wrapped wrapped. Am I expecting much for myself? Not really–and that’s okay. It isn’t about what you get. I know people say that, but I mean it. I want to see my dad smile when he gets his gift; I want to see Mom smile. My sister, brother–I want people to be happy with what they get. What I get is inconsequential.

This is going to be a busy week–after Christmas comes a day of working on charts, then a Twelfth Night party with our household, then a full day of lasers, then a day off (whew!), then a weekend where I’m going to bow out of doing much of anything other than the craft projects that have backed up on me. I’ve got one and two-thirds Persian outfits to get done, a crapton of embroidery, and not a lot of time in which to get them finished. So I think I’m going to stay home for the majority of the Twelfth Night parties my husband has planned for us to go to. I just don’t have the time.

Speaking of which, I have a pirihan to finish.

Going on an adventure isn’t all it’s cracked up to be

Christmas, family, Friendship, Holiday

It’s was supposed to be just a three hour tour–er, I mean drive. I had gotten off work early, we left town right away… Easy peasy.

Except we didn’t calculate for some idiot running over the median into oncoming traffic on the interstate at about the halfway point. We didn’t calculate for the four fatalities, or for the Dept of Corrections van that got hit in the accident. We didn’t calculate for the interstate being backed up and shut down.

We followed the GPS instructions for getting around the tie-up for a little while, but then we tried our own route… and ended up getting turned in the other direction by the cops directing traffic.

By that point, our three hour drive had lasted four hours, and we weren’t even halfway there.

Thank the Gods for SCA friends with crash space.

Hopefully by now (more than twelve hours after the accident that blocked us occurred) the roads are more friendly. Hopefully we can get to my in-laws’ house and enjoy pre-Christmas with my husband’s family.

I don’t think I can handle another adventure like that.

All Wrapped Up

#design, Christmas, costuming, Crafting, embroidery, family, Friendship, Holiday, Parties, SCA, Sewing, Work

The holidays are upon us, and even though we’re mostly giving out Mason jars of salsa or apple butter (made by my husband–I am NOT a cook-y wife) to a lot of people, there are still some presents that needed wrapping, which is usually my job.

I did a shit job this year. Lol

In my defense, I was pretty achy last night. Long day at work, and my back was having none of my shenanigans. Still, I got about a dozen presents wrapped, more or less, so that’s an accomplishment of sorts.

My project of making little gift bags for all the apple butter and salsa flopped, mainly because the apple-butter-jar-sized bags I was making ended up being too small for the Mason jars my husband is going to end up using, and I never got around to even making a mockup of the salsa-jar-sized bags. Oh well. So much for contributing to the gift-making this year.

There’s still lots to do to keep me occupied though–I just have to find the motivation to do it. I wasted time on bags (since the ones I made were too small, I have four that aren’t even finished yet), and I still have many many sewing projects to get done in a rapidly-shrinking time frame.

Persian garb. Embroidery. More embroidery. Hemming. All that combined with work and visiting family and SCA twelfth night parties and work and …. sheesh!

I’ll get it done. I have a terrible procrastination problem, especially when I’m achy like I have been lately, but I also tend to pick up the pace in the crunch and eventually get all the things done.

Speaking of that pesky work thing, though….I gotta go get ready!

Incoming

#books, #nerd, #publishing, Abnormal, anxiety, family, Geek, Home, Marketing, Mental Health, Novel, Parties, Promotion, Reading, SCA, Sci-fi, Social Media, Stress, swordfighting, Time, Writing

The weekend is upon us, and it’s Crown Tourney weekend for those SCA folks in Atenveldt. That means lots of fighting and fun–except there was a minor major hiccup with the site, which means I suddenly have lots of houseguests incoming. 

I don’t mind being hospitable to our chosen family (especially since our guests include my husband’s Peer and his belt brother/sister), but I’m wondering how the ol’ social anxiety will hold up for the weekend. I can handle people over at my house for a little while, but these people won’t be going home until Sunday. Two whole days of people in my house. Mine. I know, I know, it’s not the invasion of the Huns–it’s just a weekend. Still, the animal brain inside my head is in defend-my-territory mode, and I need to find a way to calm it down.

I also need to find a way to get this place presentable this afternoon. I’m skipping the contemplation hafla (drum and dance party) because A – I don’t dance and B – I don’t know the person being elevated. I’m going to be tired after work, and I’d rather have a smidge more time to myself before chaos reigns.

There’s laundry still to do, plus the aforementioned cleaning, plus figuring out what-all I’m going to wear this weekend, plus hostessing, plus plus plus. Oh yeah, and I have to keep up the work on doing my marketing workshop assignments, which means finding time to blog/tweet/Instagram/Facebook etc etc. Eight more days until Abnormal‘s release! Tick-tock, man, tick-tock.

So close, yet so far away

family, Home, Thoughts

Timing is everything…and it looks like we were just in time–or not.
See, part of the reason for the whole house thing–the land transfer from my parents, the building, the moving–was so we could be closer to Mom to be able to help her if needed. My mom has fibromyalgia and has a tendency to overdo things (and thus be out of commission for days afterward) or to lose her balance and fall. Yesterday, the latter happened as she was on a walk. By our house. Like, right next to our driveway.
We were cleaning our apartment at the time.
It was a #fml moment to realize that at the exact moment we were getting most of the last of the stuff out of the apartment my mom needed us. Sure, my sister was with her…but she wouldn’t have had to hobble all the way across our adjoining land (on a broken left foot) to get home, and she wouldn’t have had to wait for my dad to get off work to go to the ER. Even if I had been at work, my husband could have checked on her, made her stay put, walked over and gotten her car, helped her into it, and taken her to the ER right away. Did I mention she hit her head when she fell? Yeah. That too.
She’s okay; she’s in a splint for her foot and I guess testing showed that her head was okay. But still, it was a hard reminder of why we really moved. It wasn’t just to get out of apartment life. It was to be there, extra hands if needed, for Mom.
And we weren’t. We could have been. And there are going to be times when we’re not here. We’ll be at SCA events or I’ll be at work and we won’t have the car or we’ll be at the movies or grocery shopping or whatever. But, for the most part, we’ll be here. Four acres away.
We just weren’t here yesterday. 🙁

Community spirit

#design, #nerd, Art, costuming, Crafting, embroidery, family, Friendship, Geek, SCA, Sewing

It’s not seen as much in modern day: the medieval concept of community and trade. I’ve been thinking about this a lot in the past week or so, especially since my husband’s big reveal of his anniversary conspiracy.
In the SCA especially, this community spirit is alive and well, and trading goods and services works just as well as cash or PayPal. My husband has been trading trim and belts that he weaves for different goods and services for months, but it wasn’t until recently that I saw the enormity of what can be accomplished with fair trade.
For my anniversary gifts, some of them were obtained through volunteers to make the things, but some were obtained through trade. Chris, bless his heart, made a TON of belts and trim, both for my garments and for others to make things to go with the garments. It wasn’t just the traded goods that spurred others to make stuff; these people care. In the SCA, it’s a family.
I’ve heard the phrase “chosen family” in reference to the SCA dozens of times throughout the year I’ve been playing, but it’s only now truly hitting home how much of a family it is. There are people I barely know who stood up and said “Sure” when my husband asked for dresses (made by Lady Mariette of the Barony March of Mons Tonitrus–apron dress pending hand embroidery by Lady Illaria), or a Viking naalbinded hat (made by Willa McCafferty of the Barony of Tyr Ysgthir), or custom Viking brooches (made by Eric the Bald)…I could go on, but basically, these people were willing, some for a near stranger, to take time out of their busy lives to make something for a nice gift. It’s pretty cool. Here are just a few of the things that have been made/are being made for li’l ol’ me:


Since I’ve started the embroidery, I’ve started contributing here and there to the community aspect as well. I’ve done tiny coats-of-arms to finish the ends of belts that my husband made for gifting or largesse. I’ve done a commission piece for a kindhearted person who deserved something nice. I’m doing embroidery right now for a trade for temple rings to match the brooches shown above. Here’s a sneak peek I “stole” off of Facebook (temple rings also by Eric the Bald of the Kingdom of Atenveldt):
30713065_10215552286816921_3803083396171694080_o
How cool is that? And all I have to do is make an embroidered bag and sew some trim on it, something I’m more than willing to do for such a giving individual. It fills my heart to overflowing to see this type of community in the SCA that has, for me at least, been absent in mundane life. Even outside of SCA-related activities, our chosen family has been there for us. Recently we had nearly half a dozen SCA friends over at the new house, all sacrificing part of their Saturday to help finish some wiring on the house. They didn’t need to. They could have said “no”…instead, they came on over, some bringing their own tools and supplies, to help, for nothing more than some pizza and sodas/bottled water.
I am taking this time to extend my eternal thanks and gratitude to this chosen family, to tell them that they matter, that they’re appreciated (even if I don’t always know how to show it), that their efforts have touched me.

All in the family

family, Home, Stress

Family drama: part two.
Well, my husband had a talk with my mom today about my sister, and apparently whatever got up her butt just happened to explode last week, because the stuff she’s been complaining about has been going on for five years. Yeah, pretty much since I started having to do laundry at Mom and Dad’s to save money over the apartment laundromat, I’ve been disturbing her life and turning things upside down.
The new story isn’t about how I’m treating Mom but how my visits make my sister feel. She feels uncomfortable in her own home (Mom and Dad’s home, but she lives there). She doesn’t like us coming over to do laundry whenever we please (never mind that I always ask Mom if it’s okay before I come over), I don’t hang out with my sister like I used to (except I try to ask her if she wants to do stuff and she never joins in), and I “don’t seem like I care” about her (despite the fact that she hides in her room the entire time we’re over there and I make an effort to go to her room and ask how things are going).
Keep in mind that these things have been the same for five years. Since my husband and I moved out of our friend’s house and entered apartment life. The timing is freakin’ weird though. I mean, we are roughly a month away from moving into our own home where we will have our own washer and dryer and no need to mooch off Mom and Dad (if that is indeed what she thinks is going on). A month. And she chooses now of all times to start bitching? This is going to be a nonissue soon. We’ll be able to visit without our motives being called into question. Or will we?
I’m so mentally exhausted over this. I can’t win. Just because things are going right for me for once I’m suddenly this evil bitch.
Now that I now the “real” cause of my sister’s disdain, I was hoping I’d gain some insight as to how to smooth things over. No such luck. I am still as clueless as ever. Do I even bother? Will this blow over once I’m not invading her space anymore? Should I try to go over there sometime and talk to her? For some reason I don’t think that’s too bright of an idea. She has her viewpoint on things, and skewed though it may seem to me she’s set in her mentality. This has been stewing for so long that she has warped reality to fit with this viewpoint. Five. Years.
Why didn’t she speak up sooner? Why let something like this fester, and why bring it to the surface when the offending behavior is about to subside?
This house can’t be finished soon enough. Now I have to find someplace else to do my laundry for the next month. Don’t want to make my sister feel uncomfortable in her own home. Or something.
So done.

Stranger in a familiar land

Depression, family, Home, Mental Health, Stress, Thoughts

I’ll be the first to admit: I don’t go over to my parents’ house as often as I should. Once a week for laundry and watching Project Runway and maybe dinner if we can swing it. I mean, we’re moving in right next door, so we’ll theoretically be there more often soon, right?
Well, maybe not. Apparently, visiting Mom whenever I get the chance and trying to get her to go to the doctor when she’s been sick for over a week and not going along to the dog training classes for her new service puppy qualifies as being “disrespectful” according to my little sister’s out-of-the-blue texts this afternoon. No warning, no prior complaints of lack of respect from her, but now it appears I’ve been treating Mom so poorly that sis “can’t watch” much longer. What. The. Actual. Fuck.
Never mind that our brother is in a constant state of getting himself arrested, lying to Moms face, bringing unsavory individuals into Mom’s home…I could go on, but that’s a blog for another day. Suffice it to say, I’ve suddenly been blacklisted in my parents’ house and I have no idea where this is coming from.
My sister has made her…distaste, let’s say…for my husband known for quite some time. She doesn’t like him yelling at the dog who jumps up on him and chews on his arm, and rather than be rational about it, she blows up. He doesn’t hit the dog, doesn’t make sudden angry movements. He yelled. And when he was instructed not to yell anymore, he stopped. But I guess not praising the dog when he didn’t know that praising was part of the training is “disrespectful.” We’re supposed to know the rules even though we didn’t even know the new training was going on until last Friday. And the few rules we were taught on Friday, we followed. But no, we are apparently not treating Mom right by not knowing how to train the dog.
There’s gotta be something else going on, something underlying. The dog training thing can’t seriously be the straw that broke the camel’s back unless there was a fucking crapton of straw piled up. If our brother can be the Grand Poo-bah of Fuckups that he is without repercussions or consequences, there has to be something that I’m missing.
I’m just too pissed to ask what it is without making things worse right now. I can’t be trusted to use my words in a productive manner until I’ve had a chance to calm down.
I haven’t broken the law. I haven’t brought a criminal to have dinner with Mom and the family, lied about still associating with said criminal, then gotten Mom involved in the legal ramifications of hanging out with said criminal. But I’ve been “disrespectful.”
Why the double standard? Why does our brother get away with his bullshit when I am living a responsible life and not getting Mom caught up in drama that only serves to further stress her out?
Okay, I guess I’ll go over it in this blog today. Why not? I’m venting familial frustrations, might as well go all out.
So if I were to list his transgressions here, the Web would run out of memory for it. He has been the playing the victim in his self-destructive actions for years, and he’s been pulling Mom into his insanity–both figurative and literal–for years as well. Don’t get me wrong; I love my brother, but I can’t condone or enable his actions any longer. He. Doesn’t. Learn. He just doesn’t. I don’t think he really wants to. Why bother learning from your “mistakes” when they’re 100% forgiven and forgotten? Clean slate #72. Time to fuck up again.
Me? I try to learn from my errors. I take my meds for the most part. I take responsibility when I forget or run out and I get a little “off.” I don’t go playing the blame game, sidestepping any true accountability. I have never been in trouble with the law, never gotten arrested, and the few times I ended up in the wrong crowd, I’ve extracted myself from the situation without getting my family involved in my mistakes. But no, I’m the disrespectful one.
I’ve got a stable, successful career. My first book is in the process of being published. I’m in the process of getting my own house built so I can get out of apartment life and have even more stability. I try not to impose on my parents unless I absolutely have to. If I didn’t need to do laundry there, I wouldn’t even use their house for that. I’d come over to visit and watch Project Runway and have dinner and then go back to my home and do laundry in my own washer and dryer.
Is that her issue? Does my sister think my weekly visits are 100% about the laundry? If so, she is woefully mistaken. I could easily DVR the show on my own and watch it from the comfort of my own home. I don’t have to go shopping with Mom on occasion to have some “us” time. I do these things to keep from losing all connection with the family that is growing into strangers, especially my mom. How is that disrespectful?
Maybe if I ever get over being so angry I’ll calm down enough to respectfully ask why my sister is so angry with me. She doesn’t seem to have a problem with our brother, so I don’t understand why this dog training thing suddenly resulted in a bunch of texts detailing what a horrible person I am.
I don’t want to become alienated from my family, but it’s looking like that’s the way the cards are falling. I typed up a post a few days ago about my brother and the fact that he was hospitalized last month after getting the shit beat out of him and no one in the household told me. No one. My own brother. In the hospital. With a broken orbit among other things. Not a freakin’ word. Combine that with today’s drama, and it makes the jabs about “disrespect” sting all the more. Perhaps that’s why I sound so hung up on my brother’s screw-ups. He gets himself beat to shit (likely because of associating with the criminal element I mentioned earlier), and not only does no one “respect” me enough to tell me, but they take him in and coddle him while I’m being cast out.