Fry's first business meeting. She and I went to the Dispatch for her newscarrier orientation. All went very well until she HAD to go to the bathroom. During a break, she ran off to potty. The thing was almost over, anyway. So I waited, waited, waited, thinking "This is HER meeting, she needs to hurry it up." Fry has a tendency to hang out in the bathroom, not breaking news to anyone who's read this for a month. Fed up, I took off in search of her. She had been locked out of the newspaper office, not realizing that just because a person can exit, it doesn't mean they can enter. She was relieved, and did that little kid thing of clinging to me that children do when they've been scared. Of course, any frustration I may have felt just melted. She may be getting more grown up every day, but she's still my baby Fry.
We delivered her papers on Saturday. Oh. My. God. I'm either out of shape bad, or it really does take some getting used to. We're going to have to work out a series of routes. Like flower petals, she fills the bag, delivers, comes back home for more. That way, after a while, she'll have regular check-in intervals. Between this and her karate class (she loves it), the kid will be in super shape.
Odd dreams while napping. Ok, blame it on the meds, the constricted blood vessels, whatever, but I had some strange dreams during my migraine naps. Funny things like both days dreaming I woke up late for the days' later events. One day, the newspaper meeting, the next, the scarf class. In one of them, I was halfway through the shower before realizing that it WAS a dream.
Lovely migraines. As I've grown older, they've grown less intense. Or maybe I've grown used to them. They started when I started menstrating and grew in intensity. The first doctor I went to gave me strong Tylenol at first. Then, when I mentioned that the headaches occured around my menstral cycle, his reaction was like night and day. All of a sudden, it's no big deal, here's some water pills, tranquilizers, and non-steriodal anti-inflamitory pills (a fancy way to say ibuprophen). What really pissed me off like no other was when my ex-husband went to him with a headache that had lasted for 3 days. The same doctor wanted to do a CAT scan. I'm like, huh? All that for a headache that he's not barfing from or unable to move from the pain? Hell, the Ex drove over there, he's not THAT bad off. There's a whole lot more in that area, involving prostitutes, AIDS tests, and the doctor's advice that I should have put out more to have avoided all of the above. Bleh. I stayed up too late last night working on my sister's scarf while watching BBC America (Footballer's Wives, sheesh) and Discovery Health channel's thing concerning the Elephant Man (tragic because he would have been an above average looking man without the diseases). I'm too tired to remember all the Ex crapola. It was nearly 20 years ago (!!) and I've blocked out a lot of it.
Anyway, back to the migraines. Diuretics, tranquilizers, and NSAIDs might have worked had they been tension headaches. When it's the estrogen and progestrogen in combination with the wonky seratonin levels, only triptans and selective seratonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRI) will work. And not every triptan and SSRI will work for everyone. For me, Relpax and Zoloft work where Frova and Paxil does not. This is an excellent website with all the information on various causes, preventions, and treatments. I'd like to know what exact seratonin 5-HT receptor deals with both Relpax and Zoloft. Know which bugger is to blame and all that.
I taught a scarf class on Thursday. Lots of students and we all had fun. Or at least I did. I've been very good for the budget, no yarn shopping. Some, not lots, of knitting. See?
I defy anyone to knit something in yellow and still be sad about anything. Next up are the matching mittens and hat to complete my sister's Christmas gifts. Toppa rarely or never reads this blog, so my secret is safe. Goopa, on the other hand, may lurk, and I know Mom reads rather regularly, so no pics of your presents for you kids.Fry has the day off from school today. Good thing, because she had an action packed weekend with the newspapers, going to the American Legion's turkey dinner (I went to Toppa's 'Slumber Party'), then Sunday's How to be Catholic school, Mass, and Children of the American Revolution meeting. She deserves a day off, certainly.
Confession time: I've been very sedetary, as much as a mom can be, and pretty much eating what I want. There's been some brownies and tortilla chips sneaking their way into the house. Ice cream lurks in the dark corners of the freezer. Not for long, but it does make it past the threshhold. As of today, I'm up to 156 and the size 10's aren't as loose as they used to be. Since South Beach is the only thing that's ever worked for me personally, I'm back on the Beach. No white foods (sugar, flour, rice) and keep it low-fat. It's really not different from Atkins. I've read both. The only difference is that South Beach emphasizes low-fat, while Atkins does not. People use the lack of "don't do it" on Atkins' part as an excuse to go the high-fat route.
I still have the gym membership that I never use. I don't like going when Fry is home, thus, I'm planning on tomorrow. If nothing else, I want the going habit back. Today's 'workout' is the usual Monday morning cleaning, plus, I want to get the yardwork done. About an hour of mowing, 15 minutes of weed wacking, some weed pulling. Some of my purple irises are blooming, right after I thought none would. Finding the software for my digital camera is also on the agenda, as is moving the basement stuff back to the basement from the living room. Other Monday activities are change bedsheets, get trash to curb (done and gone already!), vacuum house, cull magazines and papers.
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