...was today, and not tomorrow, like I originally thought.  I did talk to my OB about my worsening anxiety problems, and rather than prescribe something for me, he suggested I contact my insurance company's mental health providers, and he'd help me go from there.

I was nervous about the appointment, because I honestly didn't want a drug, but I can't get myself to admit that anything else will work, nor can I get myself to make it work.  I have all these excuses - who will watch my children?  Sure, Craig can do it, but then how will I get to see anyone?  Because remember, part of the anxiety attacks come from driving outside my little sphere.  And besides, Craig has a *job* that I can't interfere with constantly, because he starts getting grumpy when he has to reschedule his conference calls and / or has to work *and* take care of the kids at the same time.  Not that I blame him, but it sometimes gets ugly.

I've also gained far too much weight.  I already knew that, but to have a real number, well, that's scary.  Of course, my eating habits SUCK.  I was not normally a coffee drinker, but I find myself drinking half a pot nearly daily to help fend off hunger, or I just skip meals entirely, and then, at or near bedtime, need a snack.  Of course, my snacks are unhealthy.  Of COURSE! 

So I face a conundrum.  At least I'm proud of myself for taking the first step, and admitting that, yes, there is a problem - now I just have to get it fixed.

In other news, there really is no other news.  It's hot here.  HOT.  Well, there are other things I could gripe and complain about, but I'd prefer to do them in a protected entry, which may or may not happen any time soon. 

So that's where we are. 

I suppose one would have to define what "patriot" meant, first.  I'm going with this entry from dictionary.com:

2.a person who
regards himself or herself as a defender, esp. of individual rights,
against presumed interference by the federal government.

By this definition, I would consider myself a patriot.  For instance, I firmly believe in a woman's right to choose how she wants to handle pregnancy.  I can't say I would have an abortion personally, but I don't want *you* making that choice for *me*, and I don't feel it's right for anyone else to mandate that choice.  I'm also no fan of censorship.  Of course, I monitor what my kids watch on television, what music they listen to, what they read, what they do on the computer...but that's my job as their parent.  I will not ever attempt to tell another person what is and is not fit for them to read, watch, listen to, or play. 

Wasn't it Oscar Wilde who said "Dissent is the highest form of patriotism."?  While I don't feel I'm a dissenter, isn't it my right, my obligation, as an American, to speak my mind?  Change doesn't come by merely sitting around on your hands, waiting for it to knock on your door.  Change only comes about by people actively doing something to foster that change.

So yes, in my mind, I am a patriot.
   

I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too!

I"m trying to remind myself who "me" is, so I've spent the better part of a week working on the previous entry.  A lot of it is stuff some of you already know, but it's stuff that I need to tell myself often, because I've really forgotten all the good things that make up your average Shellyus Irritatus.  (That's my Latin Name.) 

In other news, I finally called wildboysmama last night.  If you didn't know, she and I belonged to the same local moms group, but we never actually met.  Then she moved away, but she and I have managed to become good friends.  First, we started out emailing crappy crap to each other, then I dragged her to my blog, and we chatted via IM....and last night I talked to her on the phone so long that I killed the battery of one phone.  And through a black-out.  It was awesome.  Apparently, we were both a little nervous so we both had a little to drink.  Of course, I won't usually pass up any chance to have a beer!   But it was funny, and great, and she was surprised that I don't sound like Roseanne Barr.  Guess what, you sounded exactly like I thought you would, so haha. 

She's moving back to the area in a few weeks, and *I HATE TO BREAK IT TO YOU BUT THE AREA YOU ARE MOVING INTO FLOODED LAST NIGHT AND MY AREA DIDN'T*.  I've already asked her and her husband to join us at The Yardhouse.  Pabst for everyone! 

Watch.  She's probably a well-thought out computer program that looks like Smeagol and smells of sardines and cheap whisky. 

I leave you with this:

more cat pictures

I am a mother, a wife. 
I am a sister, a daughter.  I am a
friend, and probably an enemy.

I am a writer.  In
high school and college, I used to write poetry and prose, once in a while an
essay that was politically motivated.  I
can't say many of them are very good, though I'm my own worst critic.  I did, however, once write a short story
during the end of one of my high school classes that I'm still proud of.  It was my senior year, and I'd finally
decided to take typing - I figured I'd use it more frequently in college than
in high school, so it was a skill I wanted to remain fresh.  It was a good idea, too.  It was 1992, so we were using electric
typewriters with small LCD screens. 
Small.  I was the only senior in
the class, and I excelled amongst freshman and sophomores; it wasn't hard,
because most of them just wanted to goof off. 
I really wanted to learn to type, so I would typically work ahead in my
lessons.  One day, toward the end of the
school year, I just so happened to run out of lessons, so I decided to start
writing a story.  I had about 30 minutes
left in class, so it had to be short.  I
had no real concept in mind, just an electric typewriter and a few minutes to
spare.  I got to typing, and finished the
story within the timeframe, with a few minutes to spare.  My teacher had seen my typing furiously, so
she came over to inspect my work.  Was
the story 3 pages?  1 1/2 pages?  I don't remember, but I think it was
three.  I'll find it later.  At any rate, she was impressed at the length
of the piece AND the fact that there were no corrections made.  Corrections would have been made using
correction fluid or tape, and I'd not used any; in fact, the story had no
internal edits, either.  It was typed all
at once, and I never went back to make any edits to content, grammar, spelling,
usage, or punctuation.  Ever.  It's probably not the world's greatest story,
but it was a challenge I issued to myself that I enjoyed.  Remind me, maybe I'll think to post it
someday.

I like to swear. 
My favorite words are "fuck" and "asshat", though
"shitfire" is high up there.  I
also like to drink, though I don't do it often. 
A beer every once in a while, maybe some wine.  I consider myself fairly knowledgeable about
craft beers, enjoy dry red wine, and top shelf liquor, including vodka,
tequila, and Irish whisky.  I blame the
whisky on my husband.  I also enjoy
throwing theme parties.  Ask any one of
my friends about my Halloween parties and the fabulous spread of food I put
out, including cookies that look like severed fingers.  Totally disgusting, but delicious.

I love cooking.  I
wouldn't mind going to culinary school, but mostly just to refine my
skills.  I don't think I could handle
owning a restaurant, or managing people. 
Well, I could do the "bossing around" part, but the other
stuff?  Forget it.  I also wouldn't mind getting some pastry
experience.

I like computers and technology.  A lot. 
I bought a Pocket PC a few years ago when I sold a domain name for quite
a bit more than I paid for it.  My laptop
was better than Craig's until he decided to upgrade some parts.  (Damn him!) 
I love learning about new gadgets and technology, and really miss
working in the field, though not enough to really go out and get a job.

When I make good friends, I keep them.  One of my oldest friends (and I mean oldest
as in "I've known her longer than any other friend" and not "she's
older than any of my other friends") and I met when we were eleven years
old.  She and I have been friends for 23
years.  That's over half my life!  We don't keep in touch as well as we should,
probably, but I count her as one of my best friends.  I'd say the only friend from grade school
that I've kept in touch with, but that's not entirely true.  There's one other girl I knew from grade
school, and she and I will be seeing LOTS of each other come fall, as her son
and my son will be going to school together at the same place *we* went to
grade school.

Then there are my high school friends; there are only two
that I've kept in touch with, and one moved north, so I see her a few times a
year.  The other one and I lost touch for
a few years, but we reconnected a few years ago when Bran was little.  She and her husband are our children's
extended family....well, actually, she's Brandon's
girlfriend.  He says he takes care of her
while her husband is away.

I've got two great college friends I still hear from -
one is, in fact, coming to visit us on Sunday. 
She was my drinking buddy, my "let's cut class and get into some
trouble" buddy, and the one who got me out of my damned dorm room and out
into the world.

The other one is one who shared my interest in online
gaming.  Back in 1992 I played MUDs -
multiple user dungeons.  Basically, a
text-based version of MMORPGs.   She was
also from my hometown, so I had someone to share a ride with when coming home
for a visit.  We sadly "broke
up" over lots of stupid stupid things, but have recently reconnected, and
I'm glad of that.

Of course, there are all the new friends I've made in
recent years - the one who is the most awesomest pastry chef ever, the ones who
we used to work with at our previous job and who has sewn a Halloween costume
for Bran and taught him how to shoot a bow, and then given our daughter
crackers *while we weren't looking*!; the one who spearheaded our daughter's
beautiful blessingway; the ones we've met while working on a web project; the
one who belonged to the same local stay-at-home-mom group as me for years and
we never really got to know each other UNTIL she moved out of state....and each
and every one of you who stops by to say hello and check up on me and tell me
my kids are beautiful and that I'm just plain weird....and I really forget
where I was going with this one.

I love music.  Just
about any kind.  I have an extensive
collection that I started at exactly the same time I gave up smoking.  Funny how that works.  I love Pearl Jam, Tool, Metallica,
Soundgarden, The Smashing Pumpkins, The Bee Gees...do you see where I'm going
with this?  I'm learning to like Led
Zeppelin, though I still have a hard time listening to Robert Plant.  I don't guess I get Pink Floyd, really. Maybe
that's because all I know about them I heard on the radio.  I am starting to get into AC/DC.  I can't say I'm a huge fan of country music,
but that's perhaps not completely fair. 
I like Johnny Cash, but does that count? 
Alison Krauss is good, but isn't that bluegrass?  I won't single out any particular genre,
because there's always going to be something I like.  At least, I think so.

I've never tried any illicit drug in my life.  Never. 
I've had prescribed pain medication, but that's it.  I just never got past drinking and
smoking.  Besides, none of my friends
wanted to take responsibility for getting me addicted to something else, as
they did with drinking and smoking!

I used to want to be a veterinarian, until I decided that
I wouldn't be able to put an animal to sleep when I couldn't save it.  I also wanted to be a teacher, until I worked
some inside local school districts.  I have
a hard time with people who feel entitled to something without earning it, and
it seems that sentiment runs rampant in many parents.

I don't spend a lot of time with other moms.  The little time I have spent with groups of
moms tend to go like this:

"Johnny can count to 100 and he's only 2 1/2."

"Really? 
Well, my Patty has been doing that since she was 1, in English AND in
French!"

"Oh, my. 
That's all?  Susie came out
singing her numbers the day she was born, and can recite them backwards while
hanging upside down underwater with both hands tied behind her back on the
second Tuesday of next week."

So that's why I don't hang out with moms.  I'm not saying they're *all* like that.  It just seems to happen when moms get in
groups.  I try very hard not to talk
about my chitlins to many people, and the only reason you hear about them in
this blog is BECAUSE IT'S MY BLOG FOLKS!

I have been coloring my hair since I was 18.  My hair has been purple, blue, green, yellow,
orange, magenta, pink, red, and black. 
It has also been a rainbow.  I
haven't stopped coloring my hair, either. 
I did start using normal store colors when I had a job, but when I quit
to be a mom, I started back up with purple. 
Brandon
loves it.  *I* love it.  It looks good with my green eyes!  My mom once dyed my dog blue with Kool-aid to
impress my friends.  It worked.

What else do you want to know?  I think I've gone on about myself for long
enough!

Brandon's swim lessons started again tonight.  There are 3 boys in his class: Brandon, Devin, and some random boy we don't know.  We are pleased with this, as it gives both boys more one-on-one time. 

After tonight's class, we went to Baskin-Robbins for ice cream.  Bran had two kiddie scoops, part of Melena's kiddie scoop, and some of MY scoops!  He then asked for MORE ice cream, and Craig promptly refused him.  I, on the other hand, ignored the request, because there's ALWAYS room for more ice cream, as far as I'm concerned! 

Then I remembered that I hadn't had dinner, so we stopped at Wendy's for a few cheap burgers.  Melena was starting to sing in the back seat, and play with her sippy cup full of juice.  (There's a funny coming, I totally swear!)  So Brandon told her, and I quote:

"Suck it!  Just put it in your mouth and suck it!  It will keep you quiet!"

Of course, I tried very hard to hold all my shit together, stifling hysterical laughter as I said "No, that probably wouldn't keep her quiet!" while pondering the double entendre, and chuckling to myself as I think of him as an older, more grown-up Brandon saying that very same thing to some woman.

I imagine he'd get socked in the face.

Ahhhhh, the joys of being a mother!

I've found the old old photos I took of our cats playing in the dishwasher.  Someday, I will lol them up just for you. 

It is, however, about me, as I'm COMPLETELY CERTAIN that you're all worrying and fretting about me.  (read: Some of you could probably give three craps and HEY who are you anyway?  Right?)

So I've been absent for a while.  It's not that I haven't had anything to say, it's that I just didn't know how to say it.  I still don't know, to be honest.

I've been dealing with some severe anxiety issues.  I've always been prone to panic attacks, but since late-pregnancy, it has been getting progressively worse, to the point that I won't leave the house alone very often; if I do go anywhere, it's not far from home.  I won't drive at night.  I've never been a fan of it, because it just makes me nervous, but it's just *bad* now.  I have given up booking Passion Parties for the time being because of it.  I haven't given up Passion Parties entirely, I'm just trying to keep up with my quotas through online orders. 

However, I have finally made an appointment to talk to my OB.  I don't believe it's all post-partum, but some of it could be.  Things are sometimes difficult around the house.  Of course, I'm tired of being cooped up, I'm tired of being isolated and lonely, and, to be honest, I'm tired of JUST being a mom and wife, but because of my health, there's not a whole lot I can do about it, which, of course, perpetuates all the bad feelings. 

A good friend came over a few days ago to pick up an Avon order, and she was telling me about this one recurring dream she has, and what it means, to which I replied "Can we please quit sharing dreams!!?!"

So here's the "high point" of the dream:  You're searching and searching for a bathroom, but you can't find one that's clean.  This, according to my friend, means that you're not on the right path, and that you don't feel like you're being true to yourself.

Of course, this is the biggest thing I've been dealing with over the past few years.  That's part of the reason why I've become an Avon and Passion Parties rep - to find something that helps me connect with "me" and takes me away from being wife, mother, care-taker, fixer-upper, and the like.  Of course, it hasn't worked all that well, to be honest, but it's better than being beaten with sharp pointy sticks.  I think.

But I just wanted to say that I'm still around, and I miss not posting and commenting, because it often felt like one of the few connections I had to the outside world, but I just never knew what to say. 

I'd leave you with a funny photo, but dammit if I haven't even gotten one of those.  If you want to see a cute photo of the baby dressed up as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, send me a message with an email address.  It's cute. 

Gotta go, my lunch is getting cold. 

Brandon is "borrowing" a Wallace and Gromit DVD from my mom.  It has 3 episodes on it, and one of them involves Techno Trousers.  The thing is, Brandon calls them "Heck No Trousers", which is, in all honesty, much more amusing than Techno Trousers.  Why does he call them that?

"Should he be wearing those trousers?  HECK NO!".  Yeah, he said that.

Sunday afternoon, we were all playing around in our bed - Brandon was climbing around on Craig, the baby was just being jumpy - and Brandon fell off the bed backward, hitting an entertainment center on the back of his head.  We called 911, got paramedics to the house, got to see an ambulance (they let him in the back), and then went to the hospital on our own while my mom came to get the baby.  He's fine, but he had a gash about 1 1/2 inches long on his head.  He got three staples. 

We went over 4 1/2 years before having to deal with any kind of trauma like this, so it was scary for all of us!

I've got a few photos of the wound, I'll probably post them!!! 

Melena's party is this weekend, swimming, cake, ice cream, and fried chicken, yum!  The staples should be out by Friday morning, so Bran can go swimming!