Posted in Life

Allergic to Coffee? Whaaat!

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This morning I was up before the birds to have labs done. I couldn’t eat and surely couldn’t have coffee, or water, but in my opinion coffee is equivalent to water. Coffee is water.

I cannot string actual sentences together too early without it. Not ones that make sense anyway because my brain doesn’t tell the thought producing parts to work as they are still asleep without coffee. So I work in short sentences and mumbles.

I don’t want to put a whole lot of thought into what I’m saying. Because I’m not at my best when I first wake up. My hair looks like how my brain feels. Not ready to think yet.

Give me coffee and twenty minutes….

My son and I had breakfast after at McDonald’s. Grateful to have coffee! He had coffee, too. Fifteen and a coffee- drinker already. Where did the sippy-cup go? (He will be driving next year!)

It makes me happy to see him grow up and sad in other ways. The hair on his face growing so rapidly shadowing parts of his baby face I’ve grown used to over the years. The biscuit stuck in the stubble on his chin, as he takes a sip of his large coffee loaded with sugar, and tells me it tastes like crap.

We laugh. I am glad we can chat over coffee. Nothing beats it.  It’s nice to have time together. We come home and he tells me McDonald’s coffee is “okay” only for waking him up, but he prefers ours. I totally agree.

Our coffee is Dunkin’ Doughnuts Chocolate-Glazed Doughnut. I’m a “chocoholic,” on the coffee. I have tried every brand of chocolate coffee I thought I could tolerate. It’s the “one” for me.

Talking with him about coffee made me start thinking about coffee. About three weeks ago, we ran out of coffee. I started drinking Maxwell House that I have here for my Mom. Compared to some of the original brands of coffee I have tried, it is the best.

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The week I drank the Maxwell House I noticed a rash on my chest. It was itchy. That week, I had a little trouble swallowing, catching my breath, and a small cough. I attributed it to allergies and dry mouth from medication.

I stopped drinking Maxwell House because my awesome chocolate coffee came for me. It’s cheaper to buy through the mail. I noticed after I stopped drinking it my symptoms went away.

Lately, my Fitbit tells me I cannot tolerate caffeine. I don’t drink a metric ton. I’ll have 10 oz. in the morning and occasionally in the afternoon– if I’m lagging like today. I will have pop if we are out. Or if my husband buys it. We try not to. He is more guilty of buying it than I am.

I won’t have coffee after 4 p.m. as I have heard it isn’t great for you. If I drink coffee then, I will toss and turn all night. Especially if “he who snores,” comes to bed. He can drink all the pop in the world and he sleeps like a baby. I don’t get it. Not fair! If I drink pop before bed along with coffee during the day, I will never sleep!

So based on the “Maxwell House incident” and piecing together how I feel when I drink coffee– possible symptoms–  and what my Fitbit tells me,  I may experiment when the coffee is gone to see if I feel better.

Today I googled– “Can a person be allergic to coffee?” I didn’t want to believe it. The one thing I totally love and depend on. How could I be allergic!? Turns out– Why yes, you can be allergic to coffee. Hopefully, it won’t be the case. I enjoy it!

Symptoms of Coffee/Caffeine allergy to name a few: rashes, acne, severe itching, migraine headaches, chest pain,

Some people can also be super-sensitive to caffeine. Some symptoms of hypersensitivity to name a few: irritability, anxiety, trouble sleeping, upset stomach, elevated heartbeat and blood pressure

 

 

 

Posted in Blogging

Visiting with Relatives

I missed being here last week!! My in-laws came in from the south like they every year. We spent a couple of days with them at a nearby amusement park, and had dinner. The rest of the week we made other plans, a trip with my mom, and an unavoidable appointment.

Our plans included meeting his mom and step-dad Friday at a local town celebration. They travel in for this particular celebration annually. My husband goes anywhere feeling like shit, and we never miss. That morning, he placed ALL the blame on me saying I was sick, which in the morning, I did have a migraine.

He omitted it was his fault we didn’t go. Even though it was HIS FAULT, as it was mine, he only succeeded in making me look bad. He laid around all day on the couch. I expected we would meet up with them later. No words were exchanged until late evening when an unintended guilt trip was laid in my lap.

“My mom is asking about you. She wants to know if you are better yet so we can go visit.”

“Why didn’t I know about this earlier? We could have went.”

“I didn’t want to go and you were doing other things.”

When no communication is passed between two people, it’s hard to make plans — let alone achieve what other people want you to do. I would have loved to visit them before they left. I have things here I wanted to give them.

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We made our plans for the week they came home the week of our beach trip. Not that parts of our trip wasn’t fun. The trip itself was stressful for us. None of us could handle the fighting. It’s not that we don’t love them…

We have learned.. Or rather I have learned a thing or two about his sister and how she really feels. He has only glimpsed an action or two. He may not acknowledge it fully–though I do. I see it.  I won’t allow myself or my children to be treated poorly. Or spoken down to. It’s time to speak up for ourselves. Or bite my tongue when necessary.

Last week was a busy, stressful week. It’s hard to find words when you are drained. Stressing, traveling, and fighting with my husband over behaviors– his behaviors— it steals any words or thoughts I had. My brain = mush.

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My favorite part of last week was the trip with my mom, kids, and husband. It was the least stressful. We traveled out to the country to meet relatives of my Nanny’s I haven’t seen since I was a child. It was her brother’s son and his family. During our visit, I heard so many stories about my Nanny and her brother! We had a wonderful time.

On a positive note, I have been speaking up more for myself. I’m at an age where I want some peace in my life. No more fighting. I’m not going to tolerate certain behaviors or ways people treat others. Including my marriage, I’m not stuck. I have been in this marriage for 11 years, and something will change.

 

More family posts from summer to come!

  • Edited to fix a couple errors. Sorry (perfectionist syndrome)

 

 

Posted in Poetry

Assigning Blame

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Assigning Blame.
© 2017 LC

It’s a stressful week
when in-laws come to visit.
Typical. How the
poison flows from parents to
children. Polluting the mind.
Why do the kids fight?
Because parents are.

 

Posted in Poetry

Our First Beach Trip

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Our First Beach Trip.
© LC 2017

Never Shall I Forget my first
family beach trip that June in the
back of Dad’s Red and black Ford. I had
just finished first grade.
Never Shall I forget falling asleep with
grape Hubba-Bubba in my hair. Mom had
to cut the sticky, stringy mess from my head.
Never shall I forget the love I felt radiating
from both of my parents and the immense amount
of excitement and happiness we all felt going on
our first vacation together!
Never shall I forget the damaging winds, the swaying
trees, the flashing lightning, and booming thunder.
My Dad was invincible, as he was my hero, and wasn’t afraid.
Never shall I forget watching in fear the way he ran into KFC to
grab dinner. He did not fear any storm for he was a proud Navy-man.
Never shall I forget sitting there listening to the rhythm of the
windshield wipers thinking he was gone too long. Listening to
the rain fall hard on the glass. The raindrops race to streak down
the windows. In the glass, I saw a blurry form who was my Dad!
Never shall I fear going anywhere with my Dad. He is not afraid
to be in strange places with people he has never met and never afraid
to make a friend or two.
Never will I forget these things as long as I live. (As little did I know this would be our only family vacation.)
Never.

 

This is my first shot at a “Never Shall I Poem.”  Not sure how great I did, but I’ll keep practicing on occasion.

Posted in Poetry

Imperfections

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Imperfections.
LC ©2017

She will make you feel
inadequate like you don’t
belong. Looking down–
watching and waiting
for another beautiful
quirk to show itself.
Perfection doesn’t
make mistakes.  Or have your flaws.
She is your better.
Or maybe you are
the issue like “he” has said.
Because that’s not her.

{I’m the idiot
then for how she makes me feel.
I can control it.}

My sister-in-law often has the power to make me feel this way. My husband says she isn’t like that, but I think woman have a special intuition about other woman. I think men are clueless in our ways.

*Revised to fix flow of poem and word choice.

 

Posted in Poetry

Carefree, Happy Hearts

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Carefree, Happy Hearts.
LC © 2017

She closes her eyes
feeling the breeze on her face.
Places both hands on
her door, happily. She smiles
carefree. Like nothing matters.
Maybe it doesn’t.
It’s a sunny day.
The windows are down.
Our family is together–
that is all we need.

My daughter inspired this poem! Turned around and instantly started smiling. Occasionally, I still place my head out of the window feeling the air on my face. I enjoy feeling the breeze through my hair and closing my eyes with the sun warm on my face. She reminded me I need to do it more often. Instead of being caught up with “adulting.”

 

 

Posted in Blogging, Life

How I Spent the Winter

It may seem as though I abandoned my blog. It does look that way. Though appearances are often deceiving

As much as I wanted to write, I had a series of catastrophes to deal with. First, my failing marriage– no surprise there. Second, health issues and testing– stalemate. Third, my children (my teenager and his issues) — home-school.

Situations aren’t as bad as they look on computer screen. With many prayers and compromises from both parties, my marriage is improving. Health issues are.. meh. It seems my situation stays same, which is disheartening. I am hoping my last specialist appointment will help uncover part of the mystery. And home-school.. I know! Wow!

So why did I decide on home-school?

Having a teenager is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life! They are so hard. I feel bad for EVERYTHING I put my mother through!!

My son isn’t a troublemaker. He wasn’t expelled. The school wasn’t helping him. They were holding him back in some ways, and he was falling behind in others. Our decision was based on the school and partly due to the crowd he was hanging out with. He never fell behind before. He always made the honor roll.

My daughter experienced some trouble in elementary school. It seemed beneficial to look for alternatives. I  did a ton of research for online schools vs. traditional homeschooling, and found an exceptional online school. After a month of deciding, as it wasn’t a decision made lightly, they were enrolled. We needed something different!

Starting school at home was not without its challenges. We had to adapt to a routine. However, they are doing excellent. I am proud of them. Although it does consume my time, I love how rewarding it is to watch them grow and learn.

Over the winter, I went through a major depression. I didn’t feel like doing anything aside from my normal routine, and hanging out with family. Family was great. Forget going outside. Seeing anyone. Talking to anyone. Writing anything. Why write anything? It’s going to sound dumb.

Anything I loved doing– I didn’t have the energy or willpower to do.

I hated how I looked in the mirror. I hated my reflection. Eat. Don’t eat. Sleep. Can’t sleep. Hurt. Hurt. Hurt. 

Depression is awful. It makes you think things that aren’t true. Feel things you shouldn’t feel. What am I supposed to remember again? Crap! Grumble. Grumble. Grumble. 

I didn’t have any thoughts of suicide, but some who battle depression do. If you have depression and have these thoughts please talk to someone– a counselor or the suicide hotline–  1-800-273-8255

More than 300 million people of all ages suffer from depression. So if you are one of the ones who suffer like I do, you are not alone. May is Mental Health Awareness month!

Posted in Poetry

Damaged

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I hate arguments.
The way I’m always wrong.
How you raise your voice.
Incessant swearing.
I do everything.
I am Super-“You-Name-It.”
You say it’s My “Job” —
because you work “all day.”
So you are a slob?
You have no respect.
I am human. I get tired.
Wouldn’t you? Trade me.
The kids. My mom. Bills.
School. Laundry. The house. Tired yet?
You wouldn’t last here.
We are so different.
I love my family. You don’t.
You hate visiting.
You are on your cell —
if you go. But that is you.
“Winding-down” is it?
I love spending time
with my kids. You become bored.
Shhh! You fell asleep!
Eleven years now.
We don’t cuddle, hug, kiss– touch.
Sleep in the same room–
Anymore.
And you try– now. You
want to make it work. Like  the
times before– But it
never lasts. We are
damaged from the inside. Your
words.. they hurt. Broken.
How do you not see?

© LC 2017

Posted in Blogging

We Know the Drill.

I am living on caffeine. Coffee. Diet Pepsi. All day.

Since the kids went back to school last Wednesday– I am having a hard time adjusting to the routine. Last week, I thought I would start writing again. However, my mind was thick with cobwebs from not writing.

I couldn’t think.

Tired. Getting up early overloads my brain. Yes, I am whining a bit. Over summer we were lazy. Getting up later. Some late nights.

It seems like as soon as my head hits the damn pillow, the alarm is buzzing in my ears. And I want to lay there for ten more minutes. Girls need a few extra minutes.

I know if I did I would hear the griping from my husband. Every morning I hear clatter in the kitchen, and everyone is asking where I am. I have my own routine when I wake.

Lay there a minute while anticipating smashing the alarm. Turn it off. Put on a hoodie and socks because I am freezing. Grab the kids lunch. Check the laundry. Then, I am on my way.

The first week of school my husband was on vacation. Nothing good ever comes from this. What made it worse, he had a “man cold.” He laid around in the living room of all places– the “center” of it all. On the couch. With a blanket up to his nose. Whining about how he was feeling. Throwing tissues everywhere– he wasn’t picking them up. Watching stupid “guy” shows.

He was cranky. I couldn’t stand being in the same room. It isn’t quiet when he is home– especially when he is grumpy and finds things to pick arguments about. I choose happiness by staying out of the room.

The children, surprisingly, have adjusted to waking up early. My daughter is a little cranky, and  sassy. Her excuse– “Well, I hate mornings!” (Some people would agree?)

I thought my son would be the one giving me a hard time. But he hasn’t. It’s been my wee one. She is doing better this week.

They seem to like school. Although, my son had an issue to deal with, and he fixed it. Then, my daughter was sick yesterday. Her teacher felt her head saying she was hot, and sent her to the nurse– who did nothing, and sent her back to class.

That makes me mad! Seriously? Keeping an eye on that.

We had a wonderful summer. I don’t think it could have been better. We thoroughly enjoyed it!

I kept them reading, and my daughter’s reading level wasn’t low when she started school. My son will be learning Spanish and French this year so he knows what he wants to take next year in high school. We do French at home. I am happy he will have a head start!

I think it will be a great year for them. My fingers are crossed. Less I have to deal with.

Once the routine sets in a bit more, I think we have it all covered. Less sass. More with their chores, and practicing their instruments. And Mommy will be less sleepy too.. Coherent and ready to write!

We know the drill. Here is to another year in the books. My third and eighth grader!