The crowd this year was much bigger!

The Cincinnati Dancing Pigs

Just today, they erected this memorial for Earl McDonald, a Jug Band Pioneer. His lovely granddaughter gave a short speech of thanks at tonight’s performance.

These fellows are a Japanese Jugband and this was their first American appearance. They were very fun, extremely entertaining and, of course, amazingly talented. They are the Old Southern Jug Blowers. 

And of course, I had the opportunity to play with my new camera!

It’s me!

Joy was particularly photogenic today.

Buddha made a new friend (with a VERY fancy camera). 

Louisville by day and by night….

Husband and I took our extra school cash and moved last weekend. We paid our deposit and three months rent in a first floor apartment that is more than double the size of our last apartment. It’s so nice and roomy. There’s an enormous front porch, a basement, a little yard and it’s within walking distance to the Black Loop (where I catch the bus to school). The family is really enjoying it. I enjoy all the extra space, the boy loves having his own room and the girl is digging her monster-sized closet. Husband is giddy over the basement and garage. Whether or not he wants to admit it, I believe he is enjoying the challenges of living in a house that’s nearly a hundred years old.

Moving has been a huge stressor this week. We have managed to get 95% of our stuff out of the old apartment as well as the stuff we’d been storing at my mom’s (my books are home!!!) over the long weekend, but a lot of it is still packed in boxes throughout the house. I took Tuesday off from work in order to take care of getting the utilities switched over and the last big load moved but had to get back to school and work and the usual grind come Wednesday, so getting the new place in order is pretty much at a standstill. The most awesome part is that even with all of our stuff here, there is still so much room. Once I get everything out of boxes and into it’s rightful place, I can finally invite people over to have dinner, to watch football games, to entertain and not feel claustrophobic!

The new camera arrived on my birthday and it’s farkin’ fabulous. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed playing with it and I haven’t even begun to understand all the amazing things it can do. I will take some time in the (relatively near) future and read through the field guide that came with it so I can maximize it’s potential. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with this one. Be well!

My beautiful kids, 8/31/2009

Coupled with my new job at the school’s Department of Neurology is exciting. I’ve been working for the Chair and his secretary. I’m in absolute reverence of the Chair - he is a brilliant man that has had more publications than any other faculty member at the school. If I had to guess, it would be somewhere in the neighborhood of two to three hundred. The rest of the staff is really great, too. My boss is really cool and laid back. And I’m encouraged to study in my down time! Awesomeness.

Husband has had a little difficulty adjusting to me being gone a lot. But he’s been a good sport about it all. On Thursday, when I was gone all day working, I came home to a clean house and hot dinner. He’s so sweet. I’m lucky to have such an amazing support system with him.

The hardest part for me is finding time to study. Because I’ve had to tweak my sleeping schedule, I’m pretty tired by the time the kids are in bed and am falling asleep on my books! But I feel pretty good that I’ll figure it all out.

I haven’t enjoyed a weekend so much in a long time! I spent a good portion of yesterday crocheting myself a sleeve for my new HP Mini netbook. I also finished another pair of fingerless gloves and have another one ready to start. Busy, busy!

Tomorrow is my 32nd birthday. Besides the netbook, going back to college, Husband bought a camera for me! I expect it to arrive in the next day or two. I’m really excited about it, but it is a much nicer camera than I have ever used and I hope I can find the time to learn a little bit about it!

Until next time… hopefully it won’t be too long from now, but I’m obviously going to very busy!

It’s just as well. We both would really love to move and that’s going to cost us a pretty penny. I’d like to get one of those really spacious apartments down by the University. Unfortunately, most are only 2 bedroom apartments, but they are similarly priced as our current apartment and have a ton more square footage. Another good aspect is that I’d be much closer to school and we’d overcome the parking issue altogether. That sounds really good.

I’ve also gotten a part-time job through Federal Work Study. I was hired by the Department of Neurology at the school. They are extremely supportive of my school schedule and the work is right up my alley. I start school on Monday the 24th and my job on Thursday the 27th.

It’s going to be a challenge going from full-time mom for the past two and a half years to being a full-time student with a part-time job and still have the demands of a mom and wife. I’d like to think I’m ready for it. Only time will tell.

Car Seat by Blind Melon
Written by Shannon Hoon
Recorded February 11, 1995

Tongue tied, nerves as big as boulders
Why Mom, I thought I was your soldier
My brother sits by me
Buckled into the car seat

Feel the thirst, it’s time for pulling over
Into the truckstop on my daddy’s shoulder
Out back where they plant all the trees
ten feet away my daddy buries me…

God’s Presents

by Blanche Bridge on February 11, 1884

If my path be smooth or rugged
If with thorns or roses strewn
Where I go the Father seeith
And He will leave me not alone

And ever more my eyes beholds me
And all my ways to Him are known
And His loving arms enfolds me
He will leave me not alone

The first part of the song was inspired by the deaths of 3-year-old Michael Daniel Smith and 14-month-old Alexander Tyler Smith, the sons of Susan Smith. Her children were buckled into their car seats when she steered her vehicle into John D. Long Lake and watched as the car sank. The tragedy moved Shannon.

Blanche Bridge was Shannon Hoon’s (Blind Melon front man) great great grandmother. He so loved the poem, he it tattooed to his left forearm.

I miss him today.

Husband drove most of the way. He’s looking a little scruffy. Both kids fell asleep in the car. 

I always get excited about the state signs.

We arrived at around 5:30 (Central Time). Grandpa welcomed us by giving the kids water-weapons.

Lucky us.

Especially Aunt Bekah.

(I threatened to "forget" them there. Unfortunately, Joy was on to my plan and made sure they made it into the car.)

Aunt M’s two daughters and their respective husbands and children accompanied them. I had met four of the six of them briefly before, three at brother-in-law’s wedding and the fourth when Aunt M visited us with her granddaughter. It was nice to see and meet everyone.

Aunt M and Husband’s cousin prepared quite a feast. Husband cooked the marinated steaks on the grill, there were mushrooms, onions, potato salad, garden salad, pasta salad, cole slaw, green beans, and ice cream cake in honor of the college-bound girl.

Aunt M’s place is really kid-friendly and the kids had great fun ripping through her house and yard with water-weapons and self-propelling cars.

At around 9pm, Husband’s cousins (and families) left and it got pretty quiet. Husband, his dad and Aunt M chatted in the dining room for a bit while I hung out with Bekah and Joy. Buddha was too busy playing with all the new toys to have time for anyone. He really had a blast. We were invited to spend the night, but since Bekah and Father-in-Law had an early morning, we opted to drive home. I admit, I prefer sleeping in my own bed. I got one last (super-great) photo before leaving.

Three generations

We made it home safely around 3:30am.

I’m really glad we went.

I’m anxious. I’m nervous. But I’m excited, too.

I will most certainly see this in the theater.

Tom is in it!!!

It’s been one helluva summer. Between the dental work, the battle of the sicky-ickies and the depression, it’s really some wonder that I renewed my domain for another year. I promise to ramble a lot. It may get deep and sad and troublesome. I promise it’ll get better. It always does.

If you read my last post, you know that overcoming the fear associated with all-things-dentist has been nothing short of monumental for me. I have a long-ass way to go, too. But I’m dealing. Dr. P (the shrink) is giving me Xanax, which alleviates my pre-appointment anxieties somewhat. I suck it up and just do it.

Back in May, Dr. P prescribed me Zoloft. After nearly three months on it, I realized that it was making things a LOT worse. I had lost all desire to do the things I normally do. I was beginning to have really weird affects from watching the reality cop shows (like Forensic Files) I watch, too. After getting sick in early July and again in mid-July with a bout of vomiting and diarrhea, I was starting to obsess about germs: Was my food contaminated? Was I contracting the ick from the borked weather we’ve experienced this summer? We were turning the air off and opening windows and alternating back again a lot. Was it allergies? Am I allergic to outside atmosphere? Was my husband poisoning me? Was I not thorough enough when washing dishes and/or laundry? Was I ingesting toxins in my sleep (I have a history of sleep-walking)?

The shit was seriously disturbing.

If you know nothing else about OCD, it’s important that you at least know that there is no rationalizing with it. I knew most - if not all - of those scenarios is totally bogus. But I couldn’t stop obsessing about them. I wasn’t sleeping. The daytime hours were okay, because I could distract myself with television or internet or taking the kids to the park or whatever. But turn out the lights, lie in bed and my head would start reeling in a million different directions, especially during those endless days of feeling like knives were in my guts with the certainly that I’d never be able to eat a steak or Mexican food again.

Dr. P took me off the Zoloft and switched me to Celexa. He gave me some Ambien to help me sleep. I cried like a baby when I told him that I had suicidal thoughts. Not the same kind of suicidal thoughts I’d had when I was a kid wherein I actually think about ways to off myself. These kind were (let’s face it - are) more along the lines of feeling like there isn’t much to live for, that the world is hard and no matter how great a thing I do, in the grand scheme of time and space, none of it will really matter.

Unfortunately, the Ambien is evil. However, things are improving slightly. Despite not taking the Ambien, I’m sleeping better and obsessing less.

The hardest part of this depression verses the depressions I’ve experienced before are twofold: I’ve felt extremely anti-social (save for online socializing) and I can’t really discern why I’m depressed. Typically for me, when I’ve felt down in the past, it’s my style to call a friend and ramble on about my various complaints. Perhaps it’s because I can’t really pinpoint anything (except for perhaps financial reasons) that is making me feel sad and obsessive that is causing me to feel anti-social. I dunno.

The truth is, life ain’t so bad. Sure, I may never cause the profound changes in the world like, say, Martin Luther King, Jr. But I’m married to a wonderful, smart, funny man (who would never poison me), I have two healthy and happy kids (who aren’t really trying to make me crazier) and we have clean water, food, shelter, a number of creature comforts, friends and damn near all the makings of the American Dream.

I’ve won a substantial amount of scholarships and grants to go back to school. I have an appointment with an advisor in a week and based on how that goes, I’ll finally decide whether I’ll go back to school. I’m absolutely terrified that I’ll feel overwhelmed. After all, it’s been a task this summer just to drag my ass to the library to check out books I’ve never read. It’s been three and a half years since I’ve been in school full-time and if the circumstances aren’t just right for me to ease back into it, I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. Husband is still in school and trying (and somewhat succeeding) to beef up his own business. We have a toddler that requires a lot of my energy. A lot of my energy. Yeah, I’m intimidated by the prospect of being a full-time student again!

I’m knitting again. I’ve even been out to Knit Night. I’ve gotten a ton of compliments on the fingerless gloves I recently whipped out and am strongly considering starting a business on Etsy to sell items, but I’ve got to work out some details with copyright permissions and designs. I’d be absolutely tickled pink to earn some cash doing something that I love and is so therapeutic! It certainly wouldn’t sustain us by any means, but it would allow me to help contribute something to the household finances.

On July 30, Husband and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary. Since finances are tight and we don’t really have access to a babysitter, we didn’t get an opportunity to do anything special. A friend offered to watch Buddha and Joy tonight, so we’re going out to have dinner. I’m pretty excited! Afterwards, another friend is coming by and we’ll have a few drinks. Last weekend, we had a friend over for dinner. See, I’m starting to be a little more sociable!

I’ll even be making an extra effort to blog more, if only to post my knitting adventures or pictures of our food from dinner tonight or to carry on and on about how amazingly fast Buddha is learning. I could certainly fill a few pages with that alone!

Hope you have a great weekend

I was devastated by my ugly smile. I stopped caring properly for my teeth. By the time I was 12, my parents divorced. My dad’s insurance would have covered the dental repairs but he was afraid of the dentist and wouldn’t take me.

At age 15, my mom took me to the University of Louisville School of Dentistry to finally get my smile fixed. She could afford it, but since it was a school and since I had neglected caring for my teeth properly for so many years, they wanted to take care of my many cavities first. Mom took me to that place once every other week or so for the next two and a half years.

My worst experience there was early. I had to have that front tooth pulled back out. Over the years, it had fused with my upper jaw bone. Under local anesthetic only, they pulled it. I truly regret that I hadn’t begged to be put out for that. It took nearly an hour to remove it entirely. I feel sick just thinking about it. The crunching noises and the different instruments they used are truly stuff of nightmares.

They fashioned me a retainer with a false tooth in it. It was the first time in more than half my life that I had a normal smile again. The dentists orders were to remove it at night, but I didn’t. It was uncomfortable to not wear it. And I still wasn’t taking care of my teeth the way I should have, so I ended up losing a second tooth - the one directly to the right of my right front tooth. They tried saving it with a root canal, but it was too late.

After those gruesome years, I finally, finally got a Marilyn bridge. I literally had a thousand dollar smile. For the first time in my life, I would smile broadly for photographs, teeth and all. It was just weeks before my 18th birthday. It’s unlikely I ever properly thanked my mom. I suppose I hoped my smile was how I thanked her.

But still, I didn’t care for my teeth the way I should have. I brushed and flossed regularly, but not like one should if they value looking normal and being able to chew their own food. In the weeks following Joy’s birth, I had my wisdom teeth removed. A few years later, I had to have two more teeth pulled because they had basically rotted away. In hindsight, I might have been able to save them with root canals, but I didn’t have insurance and certainly couldn’t afford to have paid for it out-of-pocket. Nevermind that all those years going to the School of Dentistry had infected me with the same dread of dentists that my dad suffered; I’m not certain that my mental health would have afforded me the procedures even if my pocketbook could. It was easier to get knocked out, have them pulled and be done with it than repeated trips, novacaine shots with ferocious needles, having to endure the dreadful sounds of the drill and suction tools and all the anxiety that accompanies everything dental-related.

I continued to neglect my dental health. I began to believe that many of my health problems were coming from my sick mouth, especially frequent headaches/migraines and a constantly aching jaw. But I ignored the pain, pushed through it until I could take no more.

About three months ago, I began to have a pretty bad toothache. It sucked but I had been dealing with mouth pain for so long that it wasn’t really new or preventing me from functioning. But it got worse. I finally confided in my husband about my anxieties. Heretofore, I hadn’t really shared with anyone about my fear of the dentist or - more specifically - dental work. He promised he would make some calls on my behalf and was very supportive regarding my anxieties. However, it slipped his mind and I suffered quietly because my dread was so immense, I certainly did not see fit to remind him.

Eventually, the pain became unbearable. Husband finally made the call and set me up an appointment. Lucky for me, I met with my shrink for the first time in the days just before my appointment with the dentist and he prescribed me some Xanax to help me deal with my anxieties.

When the day finally came, I took two Xanax before the appointment. I insisted on speaking with the dentist before having any work at all done. I told her all that I have said here and perhaps then some, emphasizing how my fear is punctuated by the sounds, sights and even the smells of the dental office. I informed her that I was medicated with Xanax, had brought a sleep mask and my iPod with the loudest music in my library and that I would be fine if I could use the items and try my best to pretend I was anywhere but the dentist’s office. She was patient with me, heard me out, told me what we would be doing first and that she would inform me of every procedure before continuing.

I had x-rays taken, the dentist gave a look inside at all my teeth and we discussed a plan of action. It was my intention to have the problem tooth pulled, but she told me that she believed it could be saved with a root canal. The insurance doesn’t cover those, however, and her office charges a small fortune for them. She suggested I look at the U of L School of Dentistry for just the root canals. Problem was that, not only did the prospect of going back there absolutely terrify me, it was two teeth that were causing my insane pain. I can’t afford one root canal, let alone two! I excused myself, went outside to discuss options with my waiting husband. I called my mom. I wept. Mom urged me to have the root canals and that she would pay for them. She told me I’d have to pay her back half, but she would pay for them now so I could get it done. I wept some more. I truly owe my mom the ability to genuinely smile, as well as being able to chew my food. She has - once again - saved my teeth.

I returned to the office and told the doctor that I would opt for the root canals instead of extractions. While I was outside discussing matters with mom and my husband, the receptionist had called U of L and got quotes on the root canals. The dentist then told me that she would match their price so that I wouldn’t have to wait or endure the agony of going back to U of L. I got mom on the phone from their office and she gave them credit card information while the dentist set to work and I set to make believe I was lying on a beach next to the speakers of Pantera and Slipknot and Clutch performing a concert I could only hear but not see. I still heard the drill. I pretended not to. I squeezed my eyes shut and had a white-knuckled grip on the arms of the dental chair, but I survived. I had two fillings and a root canal was started.

A few days later, I dosed myself with Xanax again and returned. I was supposed to have the root canal finished that day. I was apprehensive all over again because the dentist was different - he was the husband to the lady dentist that had worked with me at the first appointment. But he was a very friendly guy. He sat down with me and told me that his wife had explained my story and anxieties to him. Because I was still experiencing pain, he opted to do the other root canal. Both root canals are on the right side of my mouth (which is why I didn’t realize the toothache I had was two teeth and not one). The one that Mrs. Dentist started was the upper and only has two roots. The lower one the Mister did and, being a molar, has three roots. The procedure was terrible to endure, especially considering that good-natured Mr. Dentist tried to (in his words) desensitize me to dental anxiety by handing me a mirror and showing me the horror that was my near-complete root canal. When he was finished, he gave me another shot of novacaine, a prescription for antibiotics and pain meds (he was surprised that his wife hadn’t given me anything for the pain) and told me that I would be sore for several days, so not to come back for at least a week. He wasn’t kidding. My mouth hurt like hell for the next few days and I was in a constant state of loopiness due to all the meds I was taking.

I returned today to have the first (upper) root canal finished with the Missus today. Unfortunately, since all this time has passed since my last visit, I got to feeling all sick to my stomach again last night and this morning before the appointment. There wasn’t a lot of drilling, so it wasn’t too bad. The worst was sitting in that waiting room for 45 minutes with all this anticipation building up inside of me. When she was all finished, she suggested I return soon for some more fillings. My insurance only covers one visit per month, but I can have several fillings done in that one appointment and I need many more (although I will admit I honestly thought I would need more). I made appointments for the kids, too.

After the novacaine wore off today, I was in a lot of pain. I called the office and told them as much. The receptionist put me on hold for a long while and when she returned to the line, she said Mrs. Dentist said I had an infection and they’d call me in a prescription for antibiotics again. I fail to comprehend why - if I truly have an infection - this wasn’t mentioned and handled while I was in the office. I told the receptionist “Great. Now how about something for the pain?” She put me on hold again and when she got back on the line, she told me Mrs. Dentist said I would get pain relief from the antibiotics and to take ibuprofen in the meantime. By now, I’m truly thinking “What the FUCK?!” I’ll be calling them in the morning again and crying, because dammit, my face fucking hurts. Knowing my history, knowing my anxieties, knowing all the shit she knows about me, why would she want me to suffer?! With any luck, Mr. Dentist will be in tomorrow and approve me for some pain meds. Right now, I’m just grateful I had a few painkillers left from the last ’script he gave me.

I have hope that I can continue on this path of taking honest, good care of my teeth and mouth. Since my very first visit at this dentist’s office, I have brushed my teeth three times per day and flossed every single night. I have a long way to go: aside from the ten additional fillings I need, I also need a graft on my lower gums (a labret piercing ruined my lower front gums) and we have to somehow conquer some decaying that has begun to form behind my bridge. I have no idea how we will pay for it, as I assume my insurance won’t cover either of those procedures. I will also need crowns for the root canals I’ve gotten: my insurance does not cover those and they are seriously pricey.

It’s all very overwhelming. Daunting, even. But I have faith that I will find some way to overcome both the physical/mental anxieties as well as the financial strain.