Down but Not Out

There are times when everything is going great in my life, and I can’t wait to write out all of the good here on my blog.

Then there are times when I’m frustrated, or something isn’t going the way I’d like, and I turn to this blog to vent or get advice.

And then there are times like the last two weeks, when life hands me a body blow – body blow – uppercut TKO and I’m left sprawled out on the mat faster than you can say Mike Tyson’s Punchout.

Right after Cordy’s birthday, my job went from your normal 8 hour job to a crazy mess. Overtime was strongly encouraged and soon I was only working – sometimes sleeping and sometimes eating – with the rest of my life simply put on hold. I was happy to help out in the situation, because we really needed everyone to give everything they had, but it quickly wore me down.

At the same time, Mira was also in the middle of a strange stomach virus. She had vomited the week before, then went a few days without eating much, then vomited three times in one night. Lather, rinse, and repeat the entire pattern two more times, and we’re left wondering what kind of virus can skip a few days and come back again. It also took away my chances at more sleep, meaning I’ve been extremely underslept for the past two weeks. One night was bad enough that I was sure I was hearing voices and hallucinating.

Then, just because a work crisis and a sick child weren’t enough, I developed the stomach virus as well, although mine was more of the single 48-hour variety. But in that 48 hours I purged everything from my digestive system and developed a strong aversion to food. It took several days for me to gain the ability to eat more than a few bites of food at a time, which was a shame considering my work was provided gorgeous meals for everyone working overtime that I couldn’t enjoy.

Add in a broken water heater, a three year old who cut her own hair on one side only, a headlight out on the car, and one aggressive school nurse threatening to pull Cordy out of school if we didn’t get her vaccinations updated ASAP, and I was starting to think it would be easier to stop trying to get up every time the karma bus ran me over and just lay there instead.

Everything else was in stasis for the week. We used any clothing we could find for the girls because I didn’t have time for laundry, other than laundry that involved puke. Pizza and fast food were regular meals for the family. I would often turn the TV on and nap on the couch when the girls got home from school. And I haven’t ran or exercised in any way since the March of Dimes 5K. Internet? Ha. I barely knew what was going on in the world.

There has been some good in the past two weeks, though. Seeing everyone at work pull together to get the job done has been inspiring. Aaron has a temp job – where I work, actually – helping out with all of the little extras that need done during this crisis. Cordy read every one of her birthday cards this year, impressing everyone with her previously hidden reading talents. And Mira…well…Mira only cut ONE side of her hair. You could call it a fashionable asymmetrical look.

What energy or personality I possessed was ruthlessly drained from me in the past two weeks, and I’m now desperately trying to pull myself back together and refuel my life force with small servings of Facebook, Twitter, cuddling on the couch with my family, and phone calls with friends and family.

Things are slowly going back to normal. Slowly. There is still a lot of overtime expected at work, but I got to sleep 8 hours this weekend. And do a couple loads of laundry. I got to spend more than a couple of hours with my husband and children, when we were all awake and no one was sick. It was short-lived, and I’m back to only sleeping and working, but I know those peaceful moments will be back again soon.

And I’m slowly inching my way back out into being social again.

Hope you haven’t forgotten about me. I’ve been here the entire time, missing my blog, my friends, and my leisure time. Life should get back to normal soon (whatever normal might be), and as it does nothing will get in my way of getting back to what I love.



I’m Surprised I’m Not Still in Buffalo, NY

So yeah.

BlogHer.

These recaps are always hard to write. So let me start from the end of my trip and work my way to the beginning.

I’m thankful I got home at all.

My 13 hour train ride home from BlogHer and New York City started fine. It was crowded, and my cell signal was poor as usual, but Heather and I settled in for our long ride, not expecting any hiccups. I planned my next day, expecting to stop in to work to finish a report before going home to unpack and rest. After all, the train was supposed to drop us off around 4am – plenty of time to get the morning report done for work and still enjoy a full day off.

And then we hit Buffalo, NY.

It even looks like a horror movie, doesn’t it?

At this point it was close to midnight, and I had been drifting between awake and wanting to sleep. Turns out, I don’t sleep well on trains. Or cars. Or anything taking me from one place to another. After about thirty minutes, I started to notice that we had not moved in awhile, and found this to be a little odd. A full thirty minutes after that, an Amtrak employee appeared to tell us that there was a freight train derailment in Ohio, and so at the moment we were stuck there until they could find a way to get us around it.

Yep, no contingency plan on their part. For a train that runs on a track with freight trains, they have no contingency plans in place in case a train, oh, goes off its track. Because that never happens, right?

I forgot to mention that our train car must have been a meat locker in another life, because even with long pants, socks and a fleece blanket, I was still freezing. So I took the opportunity to get off the train at the station to bask in the warm, soupy night air of Buffalo. When I asked an employee how long this would take, he shrugged his shoulders and told me he didn’t know, and it would likely take at least four hours or so.

Four hours to get moving again. I should point out that Cleveland wasn’t quite a four hour drive from that station. I could drive home faster than Amtrak could get me there.

At that point I was exhausted and losing my cool. I didn’t want to be stranded in Buffalo all night, so I asked the station employee to find me a rental car. It would cost more, but at least I’d be home sooner. He laughed at me. And then told me, “It’s Sunday and it’s after midnight [which actually means it’s Monday, buddy] – you can’t get that here!”

Trying to come to terms with being stranded without any other transportation, I then had to choke back anger when they announced they were getting several taxis to transport those going to Erie, PA. You can find a taxi at 2am, but you can’t get me a rental car?

Heather had more calmly accepted our fate, but really didn’t want to go back into the icebox. She didn’t bring a blanket, and her sweater just wasn’t enough to keep warm. She asked an employee if they could warm up the car, and he told her the A/C had two settings – on or off – and it got hot and smelly in there quickly if they turned it off. She tried to plead that it was way too cold, but his only reply was, “Some people would kill for this kind of cold!”

Uh, I think he was missing the point.

She then asked for a blanket, and this turned into another fiasco. First we were told there were no blankets available because people had stolen them all 15 years ago. When asked about the souvenir blankets for sale in the Cafe car, she was told that the woman with the keys was sleeping and they wouldn’t wake her up.

(At this point I should also mention that we had no access to anything but vending machines in the station for food/drink, while the Amtrak employees ordered out for pizza and ate it in front of us. Stay classy, Amtrak!)

Heather became very angry about the blanket situation, all while we tweeted the events as they happened. They seemed to be getting nervous by our social media ranting, and finally an employee said he had a solution and led Heather back to the dining car. She emerged with several small disposable paper tablecloths for us to use as blankets. Thin paper tablecloths that smelled like fry grease, to be exact. It would take two tablecloths to provide enough coverage for one person. Ick.

Then everyone going to the stop after Erie (not us – we were the stop after that one) was gathered and told they would be taken to their station aboard a chartered bus. Their belongings were pulled off the train and they quickly left on their chartered bus. Again, you can get a taxi at 2am and a chartered bus at 3:30am, but you can’t find me a rental car?

Sometime close to 5am, we finally were loaded back into the train and on our way. Pure exhaustion hit at this point, and I achieved the impossible dream of a little sleep, gathered in 10 minute increments here and there.

As we hit hour 19 of our 13-hour Amtrak trip, we knew we were getting close to the station. But we didn’t get much warning. Two minutes before the train stopped, an Amtrak employee came to us and told us our stop was coming and to get our stuff together quickly. Two minutes.

I walked to the back of the car to retrieve my large suitcase, only to see the employee grabbing all of our other stuff and getting it up to the door as fast as possible. I stopped back at my seat to make sure I didn’t forget anything, but another employee came up from behind, took my large suitcase from me, and started to gently push me towards the door, telling me I needed to go. I wondered if they were going to throw us off while the train was still moving?

The train came to a stop and a second later the door flew open and we were hustled off the train. For keeping us on there so long, they certainly were in a rush to get rid of us in the end! Of course, my journey wasn’t over yet, as I still had a two hour drive to get back to Columbus. It was after 2pm by the time I finally reached my house.

This was my first Amtrak experience, and honestly it has made me rethink my fear of flying. The trip there wasn’t as bad, although the bathrooms were in such miserable shape that I learned I could hold my breath, pee, and wash my hands in under 60 seconds. But 19 hours on a train was unbearable. I realized at one point that I could have driven from New York to Ohio, then back to New York again in the time I spent on the train. And even had time to stop for a few meals, too.

I wanted to like traveling by train, but I don’t know if I’ll ever do it again. I traveled by train all the time when I spent a summer in England and I loved the experience, but the American version leaves a lot to be desired.

Next up: I really will write about BlogHer. It’s always hard to write about it when you’re still processing such an incredible conference, but I will give you my shortest summary as a teaser: it was better than BlogHer 09.



Some Book Titles Need No Explanation

…and then there’s a book like this one.

Discuss.



Losing My Hind

Those of you who follow me on Twitter or Facebook may know that I started working out again. And while I had a blast with Hot by BlogHer last year, I wanted to create a more year-round space to document my attempts at good health and losing weight. I haven’t said much about it yet because I wasn’t exactly posting much, and was fighting with myself over how much I wanted to share. Truth is, I need to share this kind of stuff – it helps me keep going.

So if you like reading about more than my two adorable children, be sure to check out Losing My Hind. There’s even a juicy new post today about what a head case I am when it comes to physical activity.



Lady Gaga for Kids?

I think I’m ready to submit my application to the Bad Moms Club.

I can only take so much kid music while driving before I have to switch my iPod to something that isn’t aimed at the preschool set. Which means Cordy is occasionally forced to listen to songs I like in the car. However, she’s never really shown any signs that she’s paying attention to my music. Or at least I thought she wasn’t listening – there’s one song in particular that she’s obsessed with now. A song that she probably shouldn’t like so much.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, she’s indoctrinated her sister, and Mira begs to hear the “Rah-ah-ah” song anytime we get into the car:

Yep, they both love Lady Gaga. And not just that song. Paparazzi, Poker Face, Just Dance – all songs they love to hear. It seems we skipped the Miley Cyrus, slightly-inappropriate-for-preschoolers craze and went straight for the totally inappropriate. They only get to hear it in the car, and neither of them have watched the video, although Cordy has seen photos of Lady Gaga.

The good news is that Mira totally doesn’t understand the lyrics, and Cordy tends to make up her own words to the tune rather than sing what she’s hearing. (Other than constantly singing the “Rah-rah, rah-ah-ah” part, which she does all the time.) I actually think she isn’t listening to the words, but instead likes the beat of the music and the repetition of the rah-ah-ah part.

(There is one pop song she’s learning the words to, but it’s far more G-rated and a song that I’d consider safe for all ages. Also, a great song.)

I guess I can’t be too hard on myself. I remember being a little kid and singing along to Madonna’s Like a Virgin. I didn’t even know what it meant at the time, but hey, it was a catchy song and she was pretty and dressed so cool with 100 jelly bracelets on her arms. And I turned out OK, right? Right?

Note to Lady Gaga – please make a children’s album that’s just as good as your current one. My five year old thinks you’re awesome. And pretty. And she loves how you dress.

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