Apr 23, 2010


I have a new phobia.  Because I don't have enough as it is.  (By the way, does anyone know the technical medical term for the "fear of pyscho-stalker-killer hiding behind shower curtain?"  I've had that one for years.  Possibly it's just called paranoia.)

Currently, as in right now, I am afraid of sleep.

Seriously.  It's a real phobia.  Somniphobia.  I just found it on Wikipedia, and Micheal on the Office said once that Wikipedia is never wrong.  Plus, I'm pretty sure it's an actual phobia.

Wanna know why I'm afraid of sleep?  (I actually have a good reason.)


Did you know that you're actually in a paralyzed state when you're sleeping?  It's true.  Google it.  Apparently you have to be paralyzed so that you don't physically act out your dreams, or something like that.

But then sometimes, your mind wakes up but your body doesn't.  So basically you think you just woke up, but your body won't move and your chest feels like something is sitting on it, and a lot of the times it's accompanied by vivid hallucinations.  I'm not joking - I just read all about it.

And look at this:

That would be a painting called: The Nightmare.  By Henry Fuseli.  Pretty creepy, huh?  That's because most cultures have interpreted Sleep Paralysis as some kind of demonic possession.  The word "nightmare" is actually derived from some Norwegian term for Sleep Paralysis.  (I told you I read all about it.)

Also I learned that the whole paralysis while sleeping thing mostly occurs during REM sleep.  You know, 'cause you're dreaming. 

And, guess what?

That's all I ever do.  I don't actually enter any stages of deep sleep.  I just dream.  All night.  Every night.  Then I wake up exhausted the next day because my brain is tired from dreaming all night.  But that's beside the point, because more importantly now I know that I am at risk for Sleep Paralysis and hallucinations every single time I close my eyes.

So I would say that I vow never to sleep again, but that's pretty much impossible.  (Wikipedia told me that too.) 

And because I also looked up sleep deprivation, which is pretty much the sum total of my life the past 7 years.  (You have kids, you know what I mean.  And don't even tell me that you get 8 hours of sleep every night or I'll just have to hate you, and call you names, out loud, to my laptop.)

Apparently sleep deprivation can cause all these horrible symptoms.  I'll just list the ones I have:

-aching muscles
-irritability (don't even bring it up, I do NOT want to talk about it.)
-high blood pressure
-increased risk for diabetes
-memory lapses or losses (man, do I ever.....wait, what?)
-slowed word recall (I never knew there was a real reason for this.)

-symptoms similar to ADHD or psychosis (so I'm not psychotic yet, depending on who you ask, don't ask my husband,  he LIES, I know it, the voices tell me he does, especially when it involves losing my cell phone, I know he's hiding it during the day, from his office, downtown, with his telekinetic abilities...)

I originally thought that stress had killed off all of my brain cells, because I read in a magazine that it could do that.  But now I'm wondering if I could just catch up on the loss of sleep from the past decade-ish I might actually be able to remember things and use real words when I try to talk. 

I called the school today to set up an appointment for kindergarten registration, which I had forgotten to do, and luckily saw the paper that reminded me, because they're only doing it tomorrow.  And when the front office lady picked up the phone I forgot the word "registration."  And they have caller ID.  And the front office lady knows me, sort-of-ish.  So when I said, "Um, I need to set up a.....thing.....the kindergarten thing.....you know?" and she said, "You mean registration?"  I really felt like a doofus.

So more sleep equals less doofusness.  But a higher risk of Sleep Paralysis.

I'm almost thinking being a doofus is worth it.

Apr 18, 2010


As I sat in the turn lane this evening, pondering the Harley Davidson in front of me, I realized something:

Some day I want to ride on the back of a motorcycle and wear one of those helmets that has a communication device in it so that my voice can be heard really clearly when I say, "I think one of the windows is down."

Apr 13, 2010

my life story

Lately I've been thinking about how much fun it would be to write an autobiography.  I can imagine my great great great granddaughter reading it to her children.  And they would all be enraptured by my stunning life story.  They would feel like they know me.  And then when we all meet in the afterlife they'll say, "You had such an awesome life - you're amazing - I love you most out of all my dead and really old ancestors!"  And then we'd high five.

Except that would mean I'd have to really embellish my past.  It's not that I didn't have a thrilling and exciting childhood.  Because it was.  Thrilling.  Involving things like world renowned bike riding skills.  And ninjas.  (At least that's what the autobiography will say.)

Of course I'd have to omit my geek phase (that may or may not still be happening....) 

And I would never mention any of the embarrassing things that happened.  Like the time I peed my pants in third grade.  (Even though it wasn't entirely my fault because I had already developed public-restroom-phobia by that age and didn't ask for the bathroom pass until I was on the verge of bursting, which also happened to be in the middle of a project so I wasn't excused until I was done, and then didn't want to get in trouble in for running in the halls, therefore making it inside the closed bathroom stall before I peed...while still wearing pants.  The whole thing left me morbidly humiliated, and therefore should never be leaked to the general public.  "Leaked" get it?  Pee.  Leak.......)


There's really only one major thing that's keeping me from writing this amazing autobiography: it would have a really stupid ending.

Unless I want to completely make up the rest of my life, the last paragraph would basically look like this:

Nearing the eve of her 30th birthday (in 9 months - I'M STILL YOUNG) Melissa lived in a constant state of chaos.  With children screaming at her feet, flinging all manner of boogers and left shoes, the woman was tired, fat, wrinkled and in horrible need of a haircut.  The split ends she had been harboring for years were bad enough to put even non-trendy viewers into lasting, shock induced comas.  Her brain being even more frazzled than the tips of her hair could no longer process simple information, like on which corner Krispy Kreme Doughnuts was located.  The many hours she sat at the computer turned her children into ragged homeless wanderers seeking out anyone who would comply to their 300th command for a snack, and also turned her butt into a wide expanse that frightened desk chairs everywhere.  She also didn't shower.


See, horrible ending.  There would be no after life high fives if that's how I wrap things up. 

(Did you notice?  My autobiography would be written in third person.  Because I think it would be fun to talk about myself like Elmo does. Or The Rock.)

Maybe what I should do, for posterity's sake, is kill myself off at age 22, in some heroic act of.....heroism.  Since that was back before my butt scared desk chairs or the wrinkles started forming.  Unless, of course, I can somehow work those ninjas back in.

Apr 11, 2010

polka dot

My new niece doesn't have a name yet.  I know they have some picked out, and I'm pretty sure my suggestion isn't in the running.  I've decided to call her Polka Dot.  Just until something else becomes official.  (But really, I don't know why no one ever takes my suggestions on baby names.)

Things were looking pretty bad for my sister-in-law all friday (the day after Polka Dot was born.)  They kept her unconscious in the ICU.  That afternoon they took her back into surgery and tried to get the bleeding to stop with some kind of laser something.  I don't really understand lasers, but I know they do some pretty awesome stuff.  And luckily it worked on my sil and she never had to have that hysterectomy; although, I think that was going to be phase two of the surgery if phase one didn't work.  Thank goodness that prayers and lasers work!

They let her wake up on saturday morning, but kept her in the ICU until today.  We haven't gone to bug her since she regained consciousness.  I know that since I'm her in-law it's my duty to annoy her, but I can't bring myself to disturb what little rest she's getting.  I can't even imagine how exhausted she is or how much pain she's in.  (I won't give out any gory details here, but the delivery was way messier than I originally thought - and oh so painful.)

But I did get to snap a few pictures friday night of little Polka Dot.  She was wrapped up like a little burrito.  But when I suggested unwrapping her for a quick picture (which she hated, by the way, 'cause, yeah, how mean) she stretched and we could see her long skinny legs.  Maybe she'll be a dancer like her mom.  And then we can call her:

The Great Dancing Polka Dot

Now that should really go into the name suggestion box.  I wonder what I can think of for her middle name...

(more pictures of baby Polka Dot here)

Apr 9, 2010

I'm beginning to think we're all cursed

My sister-in-law had a baby last night.  Another girl in the family (girls tend to be a recent trend....)  The baby is healthy, and probably looks like her 2 year old sister - except maybe with hair.  (Baldy firstborn girls also seem to be a trend here.)

Except after delivering the baby, in what I hear was a very rushed manor, my sister-in-law couldn't stop bleeding.  The baby was born at 1:28 AM, and by the wee morning hours of dawn she was still bleeding  (I say "wee morning hours" because the details are going through about 5 channels before they reach me, so accuracy is somewhat lost.)

They took her into surgery to find and fix the source of the bleeding.  I guess she spent hours in there.  They couldn't figure it out.  So they sent her to the ICU, still bleeding.  That's the last I heard a few hours ago.  I guess if she doesn't start clotting and slowing down in X amount of hours (accuracy - not known) she'll have to have a hysterectomy.

At 28 years old.  With only two kids.  The situation isn't great.  So if you have a few extra prayers to throw around - you can send them to her.  Extra prayers are proven miracle workers.  I don't know what we'd do without them.

After all of this, I'm really starting to wonder if we're all cursed in this family when it comes to having babies.  Except that the curse extends to my in-laws, yet also my own sister.  So maybe the curse just radiates from me?  Out of the nine kids born to both sides of my family, only one of them has come into the world without some kind of problem.

I started having kids first, so it's probably my fault. 

After two days of hospitalized labor with Two Bits, the ginormo-headed posterior positioned child made her entrance the only way she could, via c-section.  I know it's a small and somewhat normal complication to find out you need a c-section.  And it's not like we had to rush to the OR in order to save lives.  But because of that ginormo-headed daughter of mine and her necessary c-section birth, my uterus turned into a wuss and caused pre-term labor and the early delivery of each of my subsequent children, and in turn their own NICU hospitalizations.  Plus, by the time I had Number Four, there were so many things going on with my pregnancies, I'm not even going to get into it.  But clearly the curse worsened over time.

But my experiences are really nothing if you compare them to the twins.  (Who I finally got to see for the first time last weekend - - they're almost 7 months old, and off all oxygen and monitors, and really adorable, and if I hadn't have gotten lost....multiple times.....on my way to their house I probably would have had time to take a few pictures.)

Then last month my sister had to have the super scary emergency c-section to save her baby's life.

And now my sister-in-law is laying a hospital trying not to bleed to death.  (Ok, they won't let her bleed to death, but having multiple transfusions and knowing a hysterectomy is staring you in the face is probably not what she had in mind.)

So do you think it's a curse?  Do you think it's just me?  I jinx people, don't I?  I wonder if it's contagious?  It might be, because about 5 weeks ago one of my best high school friends had a baby at 24 weeks gestation.  The baby is doing ok, considering.  And I really didn't think my birthing jinx could stretch to Texas.  But now I don't know.

Is it weird that when I hear of someone going into labor I jump right to worrying instead of happiness?  Or is that just sad?

Apr 8, 2010

happy 200 posts to me

Blogger is saying that I've written 200 posts. This will actually throw me over to 201.

I should throw a party. Everyone is invited.

There will be a $50 entrance fee. But don't worry, it will be fun - we'll eat m&m's and read old blog posts of mine. I might even allow people to take bathroom breaks. I know, it sounds thrilling.

I have a special announcement to everyone I promised free blog designs (which was like months ago....yeah, I know.) I will send your free designs soon. I PROMISE.

I meant to get some work done last week while I was away from all my clinging children. But instead I just kept looking at my sister's baby saying things like, "Aaaaaaaaw, she's SO CUTE," while I didn't clean her house for her. I don't think I was much help.

But I did take a lot of these:

And that counts for something, right?  (You can see a few more pictures here  we took a billion, but they're not all online - you'd be scrolling forever.)

So since this is my 201st post and I should say something really exciting.......um......did I ever tell you about the time that I won the lottery?

It was supposed to be a gag 'look at how bad I am, I just bought a lottery ticket' kind of joke.  Except then it ended up being a winning ticket.  It was worth $1,876, 500.15    But then I felt so guilty about winning gambling money that I donated the whole thing to charity.

Ok, well, not really.  I've never bought a lottery ticket.  But if I ever did, and it ended up winning money.....yeah, I'm pretty sure I'd keep it.

But I am trying to help out a charity.  It's not going so well.  You can check it out though, since I'm sure I totally won you over with my fake lottery ticket story.

And there you have it - 200 posts (fine, 201.)  I'm so proud to have bored people with my blog for so long.

Apr 5, 2010

if I were a song, I would want to be...

"Musicbox" by Regina Spektor.

But I don't know if I'm quirky enough.  I think I need to develop a few more eccentricities to qualify for that song.

Maybe if I were a song I could be "Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osborne.  Mostly just for the title's sake and the line, "I'm going off the rails of the crazy train."

If Husband wanted to describe me by song he would probably pick, "Short Skirt/Long Jacket" by Cake when really I'm more like, "Fat Bottom Girls" by Queen.  (But don't listen too closely to those lyrics....man were those guys screwed up.)

But that's ok, because if I were to describe Husband with a song it would have to be "White and Nerdy" by Weird Al Yankovic.

And if my blog were a song, it would be "Basket Case" by Green Day.  'Cause you know it starts out: "Do you have the time, to listen to me whine...."

Hey look, a conveniently located playlist with all the songs I mentioned (except not in the right order - we wouldn't want things to be TOO convenient.)  And I even added one of my all time favorite songs to it, "The Hall of the Mountain King" by Apocalyptica.  (I hadn't heard it for a really long time, and then I found and added it to my personal playlist .  When I turned up my speakers and heard it again after so long it brought tears to my eyes.  I'm not joking.  I think I might be sort of emotionally odd.  maybe?)

Get a playlist! Standalone player Get Ringtones