Crafty Crafterson...

Just a peek into what I've been keeping myself busy with lately...more to come as projects get finished!!!

J

Project #1 - Ratatouille Hat by Marly Bird

Umbilical Cord Hat - for Baby Braddock #4 (We weren't sure what this munchkin would be, I'm pleased to say that
Jake Braddock will soon be enjoying his hat!)

A version of the Umbilical Cord hat...w/o the cord - for Lia Wallman, my first time using self striping yarn!

I've been working on an afghan since October...and it's kind of my go to in between projects.  Eventually I'll finish it.  A friend of mine teases me that we'll be sitting in the nursing home in rocking chairs and I'll STILL be working on it...I'm trying to make it my Christmas present to myself, but we'll see!!!

I currently have another couple baby hats in the works, but since I'm tweaking the pattern, I won't post it until it's finished though.  Look out Baby Barkhurst and Baby Leith!!!  ;)

Top Ten Ways to Know Yo' A$$ Belongs In The Gym...or how I came to realize that I had fallen off my game...

So, yes...I am a fluffy girl.  Fluffier than I'd like to admit...and I've struggled with this for a while.  There is a part of me that would love to just blame the fact that the summer before my family moved to CO, when I destroyed my ankle on vacation, THAT was the downfall...but I can't blame ALL of my fluffiness on that.

Yes, screwing up my ankle was the catalyst...it ended any and all athletic career hopes I might have once had.  However, I'll fully admit, I've been lazy when it comes to working out.  My sister got married just over a year ago, and that bridesmaid dress...was some serious motivation.  I got a trainer (holy CRAP that wasn't cheap), was much better about what I ate and did really well...lost about 20 some odd pounds.  Yeaaah...amazing how when you aren't paying someone to get your butt to the gym things seem to come up and the gym goes by the wayside.  Now that I am at a point where I am not happy with that number on the scale, here is my top ten reasons I have been able to tell my butt belongs back at the gym on the treadmill or on a machine of some kind instead of only my couch.

1 - The shirt I bought on clearance that was a size too big, is now snug.
2 - I recently saw a picture of myself and got MAD...
3 - I'm not 20-something anymore.
4 - I have a job where I don't move around a lot, I sit at my desk, this definitely doesn't burn calories.
5 - My overall health and energy levels.
6 - Randolph.  (See THIS for further explanation.)
7 - Self esteem (yep, I'm a girl, and yep I'm insecure at times...deal with it...I do.)
8 - I've recently taken up a new hobby (knitting) and to make the fun things you find, you need a certain number of skeins of yarn.  When you are fluffy, you need more.  Depending on what you are making and what type of yarn you are using, this gets VERY VERY expensive!!!!
9 - Boys.  (See #7 for additional reasons this applies)
10 -I caught myself resting the remote on my tummy.  (NO NO NO NO NO!!!!)

I've been much better about cooking my own meals instead of running down the street (and lets be honest "running" means getting in the car and driving the 2 minute drive, not literally running) to get something at the drive thru instead.  (This is not only better for me, but apparently saves money??)  Which brings me to my most current frustration, fluffy girl on a budget who needs to eat better, goes to the grocery store and spends more in 15 minutes on fruits, veggies and other healthy things (I swear, this was not the trip that had that Snickers Ice Cream Bar in it...Scout's honor!) than I would spend in a WEEK eating out at Schmurger Schming, Schmendy's and Schmakdonald's.  Why is it that so many people comment how Americans are so fluffy, yet it's THREE TIMES cheaper to hit the "value menu" than go get 2 bell peppers and a cucumber????

You want me to start eating healthier?  Raise the price of crap food and lower the cost of my veggies...

The House That Built Me

So, Miranda Lambert has this song out right now, called "The House That Built Me" and it has resonated with me, especially in the last month and change.  I haven't been this homesick for Seattle since we moved to Colorado in 1994.  Below are the lyrics...below that are more of my thoughts.

I know they say you can't go home again.
I just had to come back one last time.
Ma'am I know you don't know me from Adam.
But these handprints on the front steps are mine.
Up those stairs, in that little back bedroom
is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar.
And I bet you didn't know under that live oak
my favorite dog is buried in the yard.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here its like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself
if I could just come in I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me.

Mama cut out pictures of houses for years.
From 'Better Homes and Garden' magazines.
Plans were drawn and concrete poured,
and nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to Mama's dream.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here its like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself.
If I could just come in I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me.

You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can.
I got lost in this whole world and forgot who I am.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.
Out here its like I'm someone else,
I thought that maybe I could find myself.
If I could walk around I swear I'll leave.
Won't take nothing but a memory
from the house that built me.

I can't seem to put my finger on what it is that is making me so homesick lately.  I have friends there from back in the "old days" that I would love to see...but more than anything, I want to take the time to explore the places I still remember.

The cul-de-sac I grew up on, the streets I used to remember how to navigate to get to a former friend's house and back, where I used to catch the school bus every morning, Elementary school, Junior High and High School.  The huge hill that leads from where our house was, right into the heart of the middle of our little town, and even further, to the waterfront.  I have distinct memories of how to get to 2 of my best friends' parents house.  It wasn't very far from where we met, at school, as well as it wasn't very far from our church I grew up in.

To go along with Miranda Lambert's song, I go back and forth as to whether or not I would want to walk into the house I grew up in.  I can still remember the back yard, the front yard, the front porch my dad built, the look of the floor in the entry, the stairs, the playroom upstairs and to the right, the bedrooms upstairs and to the left, the view from my bedroom window, the sunken living room, the kitchen, laundry room, garage, every inch of that house.  How as kids, we would pile our bean bag chairs in the landing and on the slickest sleeping bag, slide down the stairs into them, peals of laughter coming from all three of us as we did it.  I know that as kids, that house felt huge.  They say when you go back and look at the place you grew up in, it seems SO much smaller.  Part of me wants to keep my memories intact...the other part of me wants to walk in and touch and feel that house again.

Where I went to Junior High and High School has the most beautiful campus, and I loved every minute of it.  The front lawn, where we played frisbee during lunch (trust me, Seattle doesn't ALWAYS have rain.), the tree that my mom would always pick me up at (if it was one of the rare days I didn't have to ride the bus home)...the list is rather lengthy.  

More than ANYTHING though, I have been craving a trip to the coast, where our family vacationed every. single. summer.  The sights, the smells, the s'mores.  Yes, I've Googled the location where we used to go, and yes, the cabin of my youth is still there.  With less than 300 yards from the porch to the beach. 

Part of me wants to go with someone who would appreciate that this was part of my past, part of what makes me, well, me.  The other part of me wants to simply go by myself, spend time soaking in the city that I love and the parts that I remember and the parts that I want to be able to remember more of.  

Anyone up for financing my dream vacation?  

...won't take nothing but a memory...

What is it about TV Shows that sucks us in?

What is it about our favorite TV shows that suck us in to their lives and make us identify with completely fictional characters that have no actual day to day interaction in our every day lives?  (I am in no way passing judgement...I have a slight obsession with a couple shows myself.)  I find it hysterical that I myself (in life BEFORE my DVR) would schedule my night's activities around a TV show.  Now, thankfully, DVR has changed that radically.  Oh, and I'm talking about NON-reality TV people...I'm talking about the shows that have characters where writers bring them life, not teenagers stuck in a house and "start getting real".

It's finale week, time for cliffhangers, wrap-ups, and character killings.  Tonight, as I write this, LOST is airing it's series finale.  I personally never got into LOST...but I understand people who have gotten attached to shows.  Lord knows I threw a full on party for the end of my favorite show, Friends. 

I know that there have been shows that have been a part of my life, (Friends having been the biggest one) and that there are shows on now that folks embrace in their own lives.  How is it that we find ourselves completely enraptured in these fictional lives and discuss them at work with co-workers the next day?  However the writers manage it, they do a damn good job at pulling people in!

Back to topic, since it's finale week, I thought I'd touch on a few that instantly come to mind when I think of series that throughout their seasons had touching season and/or series finale episodes.

• Friends - (like you didn't expect me to start with them, come ON) Wait, if Rachel is preggers, then who is Rachel's baby daddy??  Is it Tag or is it Ross?  (Finding out was HYSTERICAL the next season.)  Then there was the series finale.  Saying goodbye to 10 years of Chandler, Joey, Monica, Pheobe, Rachel and Ross...  (Okay, okay, I'm moving on...)
• ER - when Dr. Green finally succumbed to his brain cancer.  I have a distinct memory of my roommate Jen and I sitting on the couch, watching this episode, literally SOBBING and sharing an entire large box of Kleenex between the two of us.  To this day, whenever I hear that gorgeous ukulele version of Somewhere Over The Rainbow/What A Wonderful World, I get goosebumps and flash back to the two of us sitting there crying like babies.
• M*A*S*H - (yes, I know I didn't see this one when it originally aired, but hey, re-runs count) When Radar comes into the OR, and announces that Henry didn't make it home, instead his chopper crashed.  Holy cow.  I heard that the cast didn't even know that was the outcome of the episode until the moment that the actor playing Radar came back into the OR on set.  (THAT is good writing!!!)
• Grey's Anatomy - when they finally at the last minute figure out it's George, and then there's Izzie in her pink dress in the elevator and George in his Army uniform...good LORD pass the box of Kleenex again.

I'm sure that there are others out there that I will think of immediately after hitting the "post" button, but hey, those are the four that come to mind off hand.  Thoughts? 

You're Always On My Mind...

Okay, so there's not really a "you" on my mind to go with the title...but it definitely sums up my head lately.

There are a lot of different things running through my mind.  Stressful ones about bills; medical costs (mine, not the world's in general); frustration with people; frustration with myself; the stressful list definitely outweighs the frivolous list most days.

One of my thoughts within the last week, is how much I crave interaction with other people.  You would think I get more than enough of that during a work week with my daily interactions with patients and co-workers, and when I'd get home be THANKFUL for the peace and quiet.  There are days, that is exactly right.

Then, there are the days where I'm tired of the crap (can't we all just get along, really??) and I get home and want nothing more than to have someone to talk to, so entering my empty apartment is frustrating.  I have only lived with family and roommates, this is my first venture into living alone.  Dont' get me wrong I love it.  Really I do...but there are days, where I would kill to have someone I could talk to (in person instead of via phone, IM or some other virtual reason). 

Just a random set of thoughts that were running through my had this week...

Giggle-fest 2010 (Day 2)

Yes, this was taken from an actual virtual conversation today...

C: I have SERIOUS ADD problems these last couple days.... ooh shiny....

J: BADGER PANTS!!!

C: Don't joke about it... I was afraid of napoleon this morning. PTSD I am telling ya

C: Hey wait... do they make shiny badger pants? That would be awesome

J: Only if they can still make the sound....

C: I imagine shiny badger pants are for a whole different purpose other than badger mating pants. It's only logical... really

J: For ADD Badgers??

C: STOP THE HATE! DON'T DISCRIMINATE!

J: I wonder if you can get those paid for by insurance...you know...as a learning tool for badgers with "special needs".

J: Louise...

C: Roger that... I am going to need a LOMN

J: I'm on it...would that go under DME or as a high tech radiology procedure, and do you have the correct CPT and ICD-9 codes?

C: Do you have any idea how frickin' weird we appear to "normal" people?

J: Pfff..."normal" is boring...look how much more fun we're having!!!

C: true... back to DME.... how durable do you think badger pants are? I figure they are pretty feisty creatures... I bet they are hell on pants.

J: Doesn't Sears make those "re-enforced" pants? I wonder if those would qualify. We'll have to see if there is any study documentation on this though.

C:  Sears Associate: "I am sorry Ma'am? You are looking for Badger sized re-inforced, shiny pants?" (snort)

J: Hmmm...good call...I wonder where Smokey the Bear gets his pants...I'm sure he has a great contact. His are probably even made of fireproof fabric...so no shiny corduroy fires can start.

C: Scruff McGruff might also be a good person to check too.

J: Hey I think he's in Chicago, Illinois, 60653 right?

C: 6065-TWO ... HELLO haven't you heard that all the million times I have? Sheesh.

C: Thanks for bringing me back to reality. It's amazing I get any work done with you around :P


*And THIS is why I love working with C...conversations like this really, truly, happen.*

The Many Adventures of Two Front Desk Jockeys

In order to stay sane at work, folks resort to many different tactics.  Some healthier than others.  My good friend C and I have worked together for a total of almost 2 years.  We worked together in the same office, yet for different practices and now, we've worked together for the same practice for 3 months.

We share daily life outside of work stories, laugh at things that probably aren't funny to anyone but us, listen to patients' families and the "interesting" parts of their lives that never cease to make us wonder which crazy tree folks fall from.  (Trust me, we're our own brand of crazy too, so we don't pass judgment, just are thoroughly entertained.)

If you are friends with either of us on facebook, you would see that we both update often with some of the funniest things that happen in our office or something absolutely dumb our boss has said.  After today's latest installment, I decided I had to compile some for a blog...if you don't get them, no biggy, some are inside jokes anyways...but oh how we laugh...I think it's how we have stayed sane (if you can call us that) while working with cancer patients.

Without further ado...some of our gems...
(PS: I reserve the right to update this as time goes on only because I can't even begin to imagine that this is the end of our hysteria...)


J: "C! Say Chicken Fajita!!!!!" BAAAAAAAAH HA HA HA HA HAHA!!! C: "SHUT UP!!!"

C: it was just a toxic toot. J: A what??? BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH H AHA HA HA HA HA HA HA!! C: I swear! That kid rivals a 13 year old boy!! J: (collapsed in hysterical laughter)


J: you do realize we're missing one key thing right? C: I already told you I have a plan for that!

J: M=me P=Patient: M -"Help yourself, there is hot water for tea, or just plain water, and if you like we can make some more coffee." P -"What, no beer?" M -"No, sorry, they caught on and wouldn't let us tap another keg." P -*sigh* (He is officially my new favorite...)

C: Me: "I never got that email" P: "You never got that email?" Me: "No" P: "So you didn't get the email?" Me: "No, I never got the email" P: "I sent it at 7:56" Me: "I didn't get it" P: " Oh, I guess I sent it to the wrong address"

C: Patient's are often like my 14 month old daughter. They argue for no other apparent reason that to argue. Hmm...

C: My boss: "So what's this about today? Office helper day?"

J: Napoleon is wearing the badger mating pants!!!!!!

J: From now on...you are Louise.

(For the record, we were reading back on these and laughing so hard, tears and snorts abound...)

J: Ever since Legally Blonde (moreso the Broadway version than the movie), whenever the UPS guy comes into the office I almost lose it giggling...

J: $23 mouse for the doc? Denied. $260 headset for me? Approved. ????

C: ...and short sleeve pants!

J: what's that? Two grown women laughing (and admittedly yes, I snorted) at a name like we're 12 year olds? Yes, yes we did.

J: Actual question from an insurance company: "is the patient experiencing symptoms?" No, we just like to zap people for no reason, especially in the BRAIN. YES the patient is experiencing symptoms, why do you think she's seeing a doctor????

J: bootlegging, birthday suits, suitors being run off by crazy aunts...nope, not watching an episode of Dukes of Hazzard, instead, listening to the folks in my waiting room. I swear Boss Hogg or Roscoe P. Coltrane is about to come waltzing through my door.

And THAT is Why You Get A Second Opinion...

Okay, I won't torture you...I won't drag it out to the very end of the blog.  In fact, you can't even really call this one a blog since I'm not going to go into huge detail, only because Mom wants to be able to link to the blog, and get her email out to her folks.

I DO NOT NEED BRAIN SURGERY.  (If you had just seen how many times it took me to get the minor typos out of that sentence though, you'd wonder. HA!)

When I saw Dr. N and Dr. M, they were ready to slice and dice...when I asked Dr. O about the other "crowding" that was on the MRI on the right side, he very easily explained that...my brain isn't doing what they thought, and it was the angle of the MRI slice.  Well, glad I didn't go with Dr.'s N and M!!!

As it turns out, Randolph, is a wanna-be Chiari.  According to Dr. O, a "true" chiari starts at 5mm.  Yeah, good ol' Randolph stops at 4.  He got close enough and gave up. 

What does this mean?  This means I have another test to go through with my eye doctor to check the pressure in my skull to make sure that things aren't under too much pressure (all kidding aside) and then a follow up with my regular doctor.  I already have my regular doc appointment scheduled, we will be having a looooooooong chat.

The thing that is going to help reduce any pressure I already have and what is causing my current headaches (besides stress) is getting up off my booty and moving more and being better about what I eat.  (We all hear it from the regular doc, and we all know how fun that is...imagine hearing that from your NEUROSURGEON.)  Ok...got it. 

Okay, that's all I'll say for now, but will update later.  I'm making mom and dad take me out for steak and margaritas.

Take THAT Randolph.

Too Much Brain To Contain...

Fair warning to all...this post is not a happy-go-lucky, snarky, sarcastic fun post...sadly this one is a heavy, crap I'm dealing with, have finally gotten to a point where I'm ready to share a bit, okay, here we go kind of post.  You have been warned!  

A lot has been going on in the last two months, and now that I'm finding out more, I feel more comfortable sharing more information.  Don't get me wrong, I have been more than willing to share info with folks, but because I haven't had definitive answers/better ideas of what is going on until recently, I wasn't ready to share news with the world.  Even now, I don't know all the details, as there is more investigation to come.  I promise to keep you all posted though.

I had an MRI done in January for my migraines.  My mom suffered from migraines until after she had us kids, and my sister suffers from them as well.  Let me tell you, feeling like your brain is being smashed by an elephant into a box the size of a pea, not the best feeling in the world.  (For those of you who know what this feels like, you understand.)  Most migraine pain is pretty localized to one side of the brain and typically towards the front of the brain/skull.  My headaches on the other hand, are distinctly different.  Mine are at the base of my skull, and have been for years.  I've been able to cope with migraine pain pretty well for a number of years (the first one that brought me to tears was just after college), however over the course of the last 6-8 months, they are becoming more frequent and increasing in pain.  To the point where I had one semi-recently that kept me in bed for 18 hours, and not allowing me to watch my beloved football games, let alone cheer for any teams.  Not only did I miss most of that Sunday, I had to stay home from work the next day and go to the doctor (again) regarding how these are getting worse.

I love my regular doctor, and she has been amazing for just about everything I've ever had to see her for.  It's her office that I'm not the biggest fan of.  I called to make an appointment after spending all day that Sunday in bed and part of the morning Monday.  I specified that I didn't want to see one of the PA's or a nurse, I wanted to see an MD.  I got a DO (I know, to some this is semantics...bear with me...) who I had never seen before and knows nothing about me.  I tell her what's been going on, express serious concern over the fact that these have been getting more frequent as well as more intense over the last 6 months, and asked if it was time that we do something like an MRI or a CT scan.  I was told no, and to "try this new migraine med".  Grrr...

The next day I went to work, (by the way, the new migraine med didn't work) and spoke with Dr. M, the doctor that I work with.  I asked him what he thought...he cut me off and asked "when was your last MRI or CT scan?" when I told him I hadn't had one yet, he stopped me, and promptly ordered one.  One MRI later, we have a very pretty picture of my brain, and on the report, the radiologist noticed that things didn't look quite right. 

I have been diagnosed with a Type 1 Chiari Malformation.

No, this isn't cancerous, no it isn't fun, and yes, it explains a lot.  Basically, Chiari is when the lower part of your brain is so compacted into your skull that it tries to come out the bottom of it and into your spinal column.  To put it in simpler terms...my brain is too big for my head.  It explains why all my headaches are at the base of my skull instead of towards the front of my head.  (I shouldn't say all, most.)  I was born with my brain this way.

I have had two appointments with two different neurosurgeons in the last two weeks.  One of which is nationally known for his work with this specific type of malformation, the other is one of the neurosurgeons who refers patients to our practice.

At my first appointment, Dr. O was very nice, and I was lucky to get an appointment with him so quickly. (Yay for working in the medical field.)  A good friend went with me to the appointment (thankfully she drove, otherwise I don't know how well I would have done) and I had a very brief "Hi, how are you" meeting with the doctor, where he tested arm and leg strength/weakness, balance (I'm a klutz anyways, but hey, he asked me to walk...) and sensation.  Yes, all my limbs work, no, I'm not the most graceful, and yes, I can feel everything.  (Dr. N did this at my other appointment as well...standard tests...)  At my appointment with Dr. O, my cd w/my MRI images on it wouldn't load in their system.  So, I couldn't discuss what we saw on the MRI, which was frustrating, I was really hoping for some answers.  Instead, he's ordered a more comprehensive MRI, along with an appointment immediately following with him.  Hopefully then we will be able to compare the MRI's, and get some more answers.  I met with his nurse practitioner four days later, and went over a lot of other things that pertain more to general health than just the Chiari.

This week, I had my appointment with Dr. N.  Dr. N and his partners refer patients to us often, so there was a little more comfort level, plus I am pretty sure this isn't the practice I want to go with for my treatment anyways, so I was going as more of a professional courtesy.  (Nothing against Dr. N, he's very nice, but their office is not my first choice.)  My MRI images DID load for him, and we did discuss more since we were able to actually LOOK at what was going on.  One of Dr. N's partner's, Dr. M happened to be in the office and we all three were looking at my MRI.  Come to find out, not only do I have a Chiari, but there is some serious crowding going on with the right lower side of my brain as well.  Just imagine my surprise/ultimate JOY to find this part out (and yes, I'm being sarcastic) about my noggin.  After having this conversation, Dr. N and I went into his office and sat and discussed the fact that yes, I would indeed be a good surgical candidate, but that I am not in need of surgery tomorrow.  Does he think it will help my headaches?  Yes.  Does he proceed to tell me that this is a surgery that is going to hurt because of where the incision would be?  Yes.  Do I proceed to feel a panic attack coming on?  You bet your Sweet Sally I do.

I still have another appointment with Dr. O for another MRI and an appointment with him immediately afterwards on 4/12.  I am definitely going to point out what Dr.'s N and M pointed out to Dr. O at our appointment to see what his thought is on that...

Am I doing okay with this whole thing?  Not really.  Do I force myself to push on through and deal with things as they come and still try to function as myself? Yup.  Am I anxious about the actual results of the second MRI...yes and no.  Do I know for sure that this is out of my hands and that all I can do is trust that God is going to take care of me and this "thing"?  You bet.

I have to keep an upbeat attitude about this, because I refuse to be brought to the point of insanity by something I have no control over and have apparently lived with all my life.  Instead, I greet this with humor because I can't cry over it every day.  My good friend C has come up with a name for my little problem, and we are from here out calling him Randolph.  Randolph, meet everyone, everyone, meet Randolph.  Now that the introductions have been made, here is a picture of what's going on for you all.

Do you see the little tail that is at the base of my skull?  (Not the long part that runs out the bottom of the picture, but it's riiiiiight next to it before that drops down my spinal column.)  Yeah, THAT is Randolph.  (Annoying little bugger.)

Here is another picture, this time of the crowding that is going on in the lower right side of my skull...

Do you see how it's kind of all squished up on the right?  Yeah, not supposed to be like that.  Supposed to look a LOT more like the left side.

SO...all that to say...this is what's going on right now...it sucks, I'm not thrilled with potentially facing brain surgery, but if it's what we deem is the best situation for my head...a Zipperhead I will become.  (That is what they call folks who have had the decompression surgery, because your scar looks like a zipper on the back of your head.)

I will answer and and all questions I can as I can, I've started doing some research and have found some folks here in the local area (one even at my church) that have had the same thing, so it's nice to have local folks to network with and talk to about what is going on who understand completely how I'm feeling.

For now...Randolph and I are headed into the weekend.  :)

Bittersweet Excitment

I sit here, 7am, on a Saturday, writing.  Normally, I am BEYOND comatose.  Saturday mornings I try to sleep in a bit so that I can recharge from the week.  Not this Saturday, today...I move.

Today, I move into the first place since my first little apartment after college, that I qualified for all on my own.  No roommates, just me and 720 square feet of mine.  (To answer the question, no, I don't own it, I'm renting, but still...it's mine.)  It's closer to work, it's closer to a lot of my friends and church, and I'm not living in my parents' basement at age 31. 

I'm ready to be on my own, have been for a long time, but until now, due to unforeseen circumstances that were beyond my control and the grace that my parents have shown me (more than I'd care to admit or deserve), I wasn't truly ready or appreciative. 

ROOMMATES AND RENTAL HISTORY

I had my freedom, or at least pieces of it for a long time until I discovered those pesky little things called credit cards.  This led to my first stint at living at home (this was many moons ago, and at this point I had lived with one girl who had never lived away from home before or gone to college, (she was 3-4 years younger than I) and a friend from college).  I will never deny that I dug myself into that hole, and I've had some help digging out of it.  Then, I moved out with two roommates, and while I never felt so safe as living with the boys and all the firepower they kept in the house, sadly the bills weren't getting paid by one of the roommates, causing me to have to pay most of them by myself or at least 2/3.  I moved home again after that fiasco.  Then, a friend from church offered for me to live with her at a very reasonable rent and I took her up on it.  Looking back on the situation, I definitely learned what NOT to do.  But, I am trying to move past that 8 months of my life, and move on.  I've never been one whose dwells on the hurts of the past, and since this is one I am having a hard time letting go of, I need to work on it.  My new roommate (me) and I get along great, although at times we piss each other off.  However, at least arguments between us end up pretty one sided and easy to win.  I'm looking forward to it.

GOOD OLD ARVADA

I've been very lucky in the times where I have needed to for multitudes of reasons, to be able to move back home with my folks.  Is it my ideal?  No.  Is it humbling?  As all get out.  Is it where I was supposed to be?  Apparently.  I hope my parents know that I have never tried to purposefully take their kindness, support and love for granted, no matter how frustrated with my living situation I am/was.  

I have to be honest, this time, leaving home is a bit more bittersweet.  I loved being here while my sister was here before her wedding.  Melissa and I have grown closer in the last few years, but being able to help her day in and day out (when we both were home) with wedding details, help her with things that only a sister can, all those little things.  I've been home leading up into my brother's wedding.  Now, this is completely different than helping in your sister's wedding, but I have gotten to spend time with my soon to be sister-in-law and have loved hanging out with her and getting to know her a bit more.

This last stint at home, I've been a lot more financially stable than in the past, with occasional moments of weakness/stupidity, but I can honestly say I'm doing a lot better than before.  I have my dad to thank for that, many knock down, ugly nights of sitting in the den looking at my checking account, trying to figure out what my next move should be (no judgment, at 30 yes, I still didn't have all my spending under control, but hey, I'm getting better) etc.  Now, I'm doing a heckuva lot better than when I started this last journey.

I'll be honest, no rent is a great reason to stay somewhere, but it's not always the best.  My folks are getting older, and are ready for their empty nest in ways, but I think that come April, after my brother and sister in law get married, and I'm gone, and Melissa will have been gone for a year, they are going to be in for a bit of a shock to not have one of us around, or our multitudes of friends,
parading through the house.

I feel, in ways, like this is the first of many firsts this weekend, and while I'm slightly sad at the thought of moving away, it's bittersweet excitement that I feel, because while I may be leaving my folks house (which is exciting don't get me wrong), I know it will always be home.  The excitement part comes in because it's a new chapter in my life, and hopefully this chapter will bring closure, peace and forgiveness to parts that have been churned up and frustrating for so long.