>Sorry. Not much to post about. Working like crazy, recovering well from the tendonitis in my left foot and ankle. Starting classes in a couple of days and spending my non-working hours doing such thinks as making sure I know how to navigate the online college experience and obtaining textbooks and needed software. Plus we are in the market for a new car and I have been dealing with that as well. So far, I have looked at the VW Toureg (too expensive), the VW Routan (grrr, a minivan), the CR-V (not much more room than we have now). Next up is the Chevy Traverse (love it, but we’ll see what the dealer can do for me on price). Plus I’m trying to finish the book I’ve been reading that is completely unrelated to work or school before I find myself in the throes of juggling like a madwoman again. Sorry. Boring boring boring. Hope everyone is doing well out there in the Blog World. P.S. Zach has 2 teeth now. So cute.
>I work amongst some of the most ridiculous, petty drama you could imagine, considering these are all college-educated adults. This one de-friended this one on Facebook, this one screwed someone’s husband and as a married woman, another one completely removed from the situation took complete offense. And because another one is BFF’s with the defriended one, the de-friendee is now on her shitlist. And on and on, so it goes. I mean, really. And I try to stay out of it. I really do. There are going to be disagreements because we work long hours under stressful conditions, and we are all human. I’ve had my disagreements. But adults move on. And we are not going to like every person in our department. There are about 50 therapists in my department. Someone is going to dislike me, and that is okay. But be an adult. Be professional. And so this post is all about work.
Let’s start with the Good, shall we? One of my coworkers asked if Zach needs any summer clothes, and since I have only bought about 5 or so summer outfits so far, I mentioned that we could use some, that I haven’t really shopped. Well, she had us meet her and gave me bags of her son’s cothes to go through. Oh holy crap. There were 4 pair of swim trunks, 6 pairs of sandals, 30 complete outfits and a ton more separates, 7 pairs of light pajamas, and even an unopened pack of swim diapers. All looking brand new, all designer labels. So while I had this huge list of stuff the boys needed for summer, all that is left for me to buy Zach is bigger-sized onesies. Seriously. Love it!
The Bad: Well apparently, I have upset some people and I do not know why. I shouldn’t care but I do. I have always worried too much about what others think of me and have been insecure about it. But I keep noticing people from work gone from my friends list on Facebook. Unlike some of my coworkers, I will not start WW3 over it. Hell, I won’t even mention it to anyone. But it kind of makes me wonder what it may be the result of. Am I just a bad person? Am I completely pathetic for even worrying about it?
The Ugly: Apparently a coworker had her annual evaluation at work and my name came up. My supervisor mentioned the “problems” we have like I would instantly know what she is talking about, and I honestly have no clue. This person is always nice to me and this was the first I had heard of it. I just played dumb when I should have spoken up. I mean, there are some people who just will not like each other, but to go so far as to bring it up to my boss? Really? And the only thing I can think of was when I first found out I was pregnant with Zach and, keeping in mind the experience I had with Evan, I was sort of upset about it. This girl had been trying to have another baby for sometime, and got very upset, to the point of screaming at me, for being upset. She now, after my pregnancy, understands, I think. But at the time she was downright mean about it. I don’t know if it stems from this or not. But this worries me. What did I do?
So anyhow, that is what is on my mind. Just a little concerned.
>Okay, so tonight I made a dinner that was semi-homemade and delish, and so I thought I would share. I actually got the recipe from the back of a container of Philadelphia cooking cream cheese, and it was for “Easy Chicken Enchiladas”. Of course I keep laughing because I keep thinking of one of my favorite movies of all time, which is 200 Cigarettes. If you had anything to do with the 80’s and have not seen this flick, I say check it out! But anyhow, in it, Martha Plimpton’s character is throwing a party and made some dip, on which everyone keeps complimenting her. And she keeps exclaiming, “I got it off of the back of cream cheese!!!” Ha!
So anyway, I’ll tell you what the recipe calls for, then tell you what I did.
1 can diced tomatoes, 1 white onion-diced, I container of Philadelphia cooking cream cheese-Santa Fe Blend, 3 cups shredded chicken, cooking oil, Kraft Mexican Blend shredded cheese, 8 flour tortillas.
You’re supposed to cook and shred the chicken breast, heat the oil and saute the diced onion, then mix 3/4 of the cream cheese, some of the shredded cheese, the chicken, and the cooked onion together, then roll the mixture in the tortillas. Place the them in a greased 12×9 pan, seam down. Spoon the remaining cream cheese over the top and sprinkle with more of the shredded cheese. Bake for 15-20 minutes at 350.
But I can’t follow directions, and I was too lazy to cook the chicken and then shred it. So I mixed the onion with some lean ground beef, and cooked until the beef was browned. And I mixed that in in place of the chicken. And then it didn’t seem like enough, so I cooked one of those Uncle Ben’s microwaveable rice pouches (Spanich Style) and mixed about 2/3rds of that in the mix.
OMG, they were awesome. The pan was gone in like 3 seconds flat, I swear.
And I got the recipe off of the back of cream cheese!
Yeah, I know. These things are great, making it possible for the infirm and extremely elderly and handi-capable all to go buy important things like food. And medicine. And their Depends. Well, they’re great and wonderful and convenient…until you have to be the one on it.
Let’s start with how I became an expert driver of the Mart Kart (yes, that really is the brand name of the cart Wally World uses. (Thanks to Evan, whose young and agile brain is able to store vast amounts of such useless info.) I became an expert while preggers, when I was on either bedrest or modified bedrest, and John would shout out, “Honey, I’m going to the store!” And I would yell, “Oh hells no, I’m COMIN’!” And most times I would just waddle to the car and ride along for some scenery, windows down for some fresh air and sunshine. And sometimes, depending what was needed, I would actually go in. But aside from my team of doctors’ orders, I was physically incapable of walking through any store, especially the huge box stores like Wally World, Target, BRU. He would drop me off in front before parking the car, and I would be moving so slow that people passing me on all sides would literally create a breeze effect. Because I had been in bed for months and also because as soon as I tried to stand upright, the contractions would pull my belly so tight that it automatically had me walking stooped over. I would hunch and hobble and waddle my way to the electric scooters and hop on. I had so many misadventures on those damned things and became an expert.
Target’s sucked. They had the big bumper thing on the bottom to keep you from getting too close to anything in the store. But this bumper thing is what caused me to crash into everything. It is what put the feat of God in the people working the electronics and how I got the best service as they brought different cameras to me so I could look and decide on one. There was no way they were going to let me get that close to a glass case. This was, of course, the same day I took out an entire rack of newborn clothing, and I am not even going there. Click the link if you want to read about Mach 5 embarrassment like no other. It was also the week before Zach’s birth.
And then there was the time I thought for sure that I had been busted by the very one from my practice who finally told me, “No more, Andrea. You are to be on bedrest until you deliver. You’re done.” (I later ‘fessed up and discovered that while he didn’t see me that day, that according to him, he has busted many a bedrester that way.)
Or the day someone accused me of being on one out of laziness. Yep, I hate the things.
So here’s what went down: I woke up just a couple of hours after falling asleep on Wednesday morning with my left foot filled with this intense ache in very localized places, yet still radiating up my leg, if that makes any sense at all. I honestly thought it was the weather because it was sunny and 70 here one day and literally 34 degrees and cloudy the very next day. And trying to storm on top of that. I have a bit of arthritis in that leg after having ACL surgery in 2003, so I thought maybe it was the beginning of that type of pain. I took some ibuprofen and went back to sleep. It got worse, but I went to work that evening as planned. Within 2 hours of starting work, I had no idea how I was going to make it through the full 12 hours. It was that bad. I did make it until all of my patients had been seen, though, and I handed off my pager to one of the other therapists. I had to make J0hn come and get me, and went home to ice and elevate my foot. Which helped. Until I tried to stand on it again. I ended up in the ER, getting it x-rayed. I felt silly and stupid and was seriously worried that they would think I was drug-seeking because there is nothing visibly wrong with my foot. Nada. Except I have the ugliest feet. Bunions, ingrown toenails, calluses. Because what I do for a living doesn’t go hand-in-hand with sandal season. But I got people who knew me. And I turned down the pain shot I was offered and requested an anti-inflammatory injection instead. And they said it is bad tendonitis, that they could see hazy areas of inflammation on the x-ray, and that I may have some underlying stress fractures as well, but I won’t know that until it fails to get better. But I am on crutches now. And spent last night drugged up enough that I slept through the entire season finale of Jersey Shore….Erm, I mean another show–a more high-brow show that isn’t so embarrassing. Sucky sucky sucky. Because I apparently work too much. (In fact, it was Wednesday and I had already worked 48 hours this week….They may have been on to something!)
And so I am grounded for a couple of days. But Zach needed diapers because I never did manage to make the switch to cloth. And he needed formula. (Completely random tidbit and silver lining in all of this? That last night, I bought either the last or second-to-last bit of infant formula I have to buy for Zach! That crap is so expensive! And I have yet to decide if I am going to use the toddler formulas they make now.) And the fridge was bare here. And so I had to use the damned scooter. Again. And John laughed at me through the entire store, though Zach watched me from his perch in the cart and seemed to be fascinated that Mommy was motorized.
Such is life.
> So I had this big in-store credit for the breastfeeding boutique. Which would have come in handy any time in the past 10 months, because this woman literally has every-stinkin’-product for breastfeeding moms that I have purchased. My herbal supplements, my end-of-the-alphabet-sized nursing bras. Even all of my nursing tanks I have layered under my clothes for all of this time (doesn’t seem like a biggie until you consider that everybody else carries the ones designed for stick-thin women, and aside from a few people I know, what mom is a stick immediately postpartum???). But now? Now that Zach is almost a year old and I have decided I am done? I didn’t think I would find a thing.