My Organization Memes

Hello, dear readers, and happy 2012! Again, it’s been too long since my last post. I have so many ideas for posts backed up in my head, I hardly know where to start. So, I asked around, and here’s where I’m starting: My organization memes.

I do writing, legal and consulting work as an independent contractor from home. So, I make my own work schedule and limit my hours to only part-time. I also do volunteer work for my Church, run a local book club and co-run a local peer support group for infertile women. The point being, I have lots of stuff to do, but no kind of a regular schedule, and much of it not bringing in any money. Since that leaves the Wacky Wicketeer as the primary breadwinner, I also feel it’s my responsibility to be the primary homemaker. Yes, I am a proud housewife!

My unorthodox schedule lends to time passing without much housekeeping getting done, either because it doesn’t occur to me to do it, or it doesn’t have the pressure behind it that makes it a higher priority. So I thought why not use memes? You know, the way bloggers do for regular posts like “Wordless Wednesday”, “Meatless Monday”, etcetera. So here’s what I came up with:

Mail, Media & Medicine Mondays – This helps me make sure I check my two mailboxes a minimum of once a week, and that the mail actually gets sorted, including any coupon clipping. It also is when I schedule social network status updates for the dozen or so accounts I run as a volunteer. Third, it’s when I sort all my pills out into their little weekly/daily labeled boxes.

Tasty Tuesdays – This reminds me to do my meal planning and grocery shopping.

Wash, Water & Weigh-in Wednesdays – Wash refers to laundry. Of course, I can’t do ALL my laundry in one day, but this reminds me to get it started, wash those things I might put off, like extra linens, and do any leftover folding, hanging and ironing. Wednesdays are also for watering the potted plants and weighing myself.

Thoughtful Thursdays – I try to focus on reading, research and writing.

Fresh Fridays – Fresh is just another word for clean. Each Friday I pick a room to make “fresh”. My house has 12 rooms plus the hall/stairs/landing area, so it’s a lot for one person to clean. Having a day each week devoted to one room is supposed to help me keep up without feeling overwhelmed. Having it be a last-minute decision as to which room also allows me to pay more attention to rooms that need it. Check back with me in a few months to see if it’s working!

What do you do to help keep yourself on task and accomplish those mundane things that could easily slip by, like housekeeping?

Also, since I'm so behind on blogposts, what would you like me to post about?

Friday Freakout: Bad Clinic Behavior

I don’t understand why IVF clinics aren’t more sensitive to what their patients are going through. I don’t understand why they aren’t more careful to ensure they don’t stress us out more than we already are, and why they don’t make the effort to provide us with more information and greater transparency, so that we can have some sense of trust and control in a situation where we are vulnerable and powerless.

Photo by takomabibelot

The Wacky Wicketeer and I have been patients at three clinics in Northern California. Here are some of the stressful mistakes we have encountered:
·        Failed to diagnose me properly
·        Failed to inform us of miscarriage risks to IUI due to our diagnosis
·        Miscalculated dates on IUI protocol calendar
·        Made us wait over an hour in the waiting room, making our appointment over an hour late (multiple occasions, and multiple clinics)
·        Miscalculated prescription quantity
·        Mishandled post-miscarriage fetal tissue
·        Improperly tested post-miscarriage fetal tissue
·        Lied about limitations of genetic testing of post-miscarriage fetal tissue
·        Failed to return phone calls (multiple occasions, and multiple clinics)
·        Failed to respond to emails (multiple occasions, and multiple clinics)
·        Talked to me like I was an idiot for asking about the safety of progesterone suppositories during pregnancy, after I had already miscarried once while on them
·        Delayed submitting my prescriptions to the specialty mail-order pharmacy until the last minute (I only received them 18 hours before I had to use them because I spent two days on the phone yelling and pleading with people)
·        Failed to timely submit an insurance claim
·        Minimized & failed to warn me about potential recovery time after egg retrieval
·        Delayed my cycle start date by a week for a non-medical reason after we had already rescheduled work, work travel, and numerous other activities
·        Tried to delay my cycle start date by a week for a non-medical reason a SECOND TIME, after we had already re-rescheduled everything around the first change
·        Delayed giving me dates for an injection class until a week before, such that I couldn’t go because I already had bought plane tickets, conference passes, and made reservations for an out-of-town conference
·        Failed to give me a pre-emptive pain med prescription for the most painful experience of my life
·        Failed to provide thorough information on costs and insurance coverage for IVF
·        Failed to provide an information packet of any sort on how that clinic does IVF
·        Lack of transparency as to staffing changes that may be occurring during a cycle

I have received apologies--from a newly-hired nurse for rescheduling, and from a doctor for my painful experience. I still see that nurse and doctor. Nothing else on this list has been corrected or apologized for. For a service that we gamble tens of thousands of dollars on, and that requires us to substantially rearrange our lives for a painful, mere attempt, at having children, the very beneficiaries of our struggle, the fertility clinics, should be more conscientious of how their mistakes and behavior affect us.

The larger, immediate problem when these sorts of mistakes occur is that it strikes at the heart of an in-progress IVF cycle (or other treatment). It makes us doubt the very people that are supposed to be important members of our team. For me, the single thing that most influences my anxiety level during an IVF cycle is my faith and trust in my fertility team. That includes my clinic staff, nurses, embryologists, doctors, phlebotomists, pharmacists and geneticists, as well as my husband. While other people can be supportive and helpful during an IVF cycle, if they aren’t, I can block them out while in-cycle. I can’t block out this group. I need them, and I need them to be reliable and trustworthy.

I know we’re not the only ones, so what clinic mistakes and issues have added to your infertility stress?

BlogHer Recap Part 1: Vacation, Expo & Parties

BlogHer is basically a summer camp for grown up girls who like to be on the internet. I mean this in a very, very, good way. Don’t get me wrong, the Wacky Wicketeer had a great time too, but he is not the target demographic. This year, BlogHer was in San Diego. Just a plane-hop from home!

Vacation

Since we decided to make it a vacation for him and travel as a couple, the Wacky Wicketeer and I arrived in San Diego Thursday morning. I did not register for PathfinderDay because I found out about too late, after we had already made our plans. Also because it cost more money. Fortunately, we were able to check into the hotel early, so we dropped off our luggage, and figured out how we could take public transit to the Hotel del Coronado. Our hotel room at the Marriott was awesome, and from the 22^nd floor, we had a great view. But the Hotel del Coronado is a landmark that has been around since the 19^th Century, and is a work of art in wood.

View from our room at the Marriott

Hotel del Coronado

We spent the rest of the day on Coronado Island, checking out the hotel, having lunch on their deck, and enjoying the beach. And that was my last meal we paid for until Sunday.

Beach on Coronado Island

Expo and Parties

That night the conference really began, with a series of three parties. I had obtained an Expo and Cocktail Pass (a.k.a. the Party Pass) for the Wacky Wicketeer so he could attend these events with me, and each night there were three more parties. All had complimentary food, and we had received drink tickets with our conference badges, so the parties alone made up for the cost of our conference admission.

The Expo was awesome. And huge. And full of giveaways. One woman’s junk was another woman’s swag, and thanks to the swag exchange room, we could take and leave accordingly! The Wacky Wicketeer (a.k.a. the Digital Emperor) was ready to pass out from the effort of trying to consume every ice cream, lasagna, sausage, and other food product being offered at the Expo. Referring to these samples, he called it “Costco on steroids!” Thank goodness there was dedicated time for it on Thursday, because otherwise I would not have had a chance to see most of it. Thanks to the Expo, we got to meet the Pine Sol Lady and the Swiffer Dust guy (on Thursday), not to mention Bob Harper and Giuliana Rancic (on Saturday).

As for the actual parties, they were pretty fun. Though I was pretty disappointed in the first night, Friday and Saturday made up for it. Thursday nights’ parties had pretty bland food. The others were an improvement. My favorite party was Sparklecorn, and you can see the awesome unicorn cake in last week’s Wordless Wednesday post. If the Expo was Costco on steroids, Sparklecorn was girl power on steroids! It was all about unicorns, sparkle, and glow-in-the-dark sticks. The DJ was the best I’ve heard in a long time, and we had a great time dancing the night away! There were also giant, soft pretzels, which I love. Saturday night’s parties were unique and fun, but by the time we got to Cheeseburgher, I was ready to pass out from exhaustion. So we gave away the rest of our drink tickets, and called it a conference.

Fireworks while at the Social Fiesta

The coolest part about the parties was that I got to meet some great bloggers and tweeps that I already knew online: Maya, Dresden, MrsLaLa, and Dead Cow Girl, to name just a few! A highlight was Dresden, upon first meeting us, saying to the Wacky Wicketeer, “wow, you’re cute!” She made him blush and me giggle!

Come back soon to read about Friday and Saturday’s conference sessions!

Friday Freakout: IVF Meds

I’m calling this post a “Friday Freakout” as a tribute to the fact that my greatest psychological challenge is anxiety. It rots my gut on a regular basis.

So guess what? We’re there. Where? IVF number 2. I started my morning injections of Lupron on Thursday, and start stimming next Thursday night. My protocol is 10iu of Lupron daily until next Thursday, then drop it to 5iu, and add 225iu daily of Follistim. My last birth control pill is tomorrow, so CD 1 should be about next Tuesday. I’m also taking Metformin, prenatal vitamins, DHA, CoQ10, and extra calcium and vitamin D, but these are all oral pills. Only the Follistim and Lupron are injections.

On August 26^th I’ll go in for a monitoring ultrasound, and my RE will decide whether to schedule me to trigger, or have me continue on Lupron and Follistim longer and return for another ultrasound before triggering. Our first IVF, we had a low percentage of the total eggs retrieved that had triggered properly. My understanding of the trigger is that it tells the eggs it’s time to go from 46 to 23 chromosomes, so they can be fertilized. My RE thinks it didn’t work on a lot of them because they had grown too fast. In other words, I was “over-stimmed”.

Even though we had a single, genetically competent, girl embryo that made it to transfer, since she didn’t implant and we didn’t have any others make it to blastocyst stage for freezing, that cycle was a total bust. The only thing it did was give us very expensive clinical data showing we end up with a lot of chromosomally abnormal sperm and eggs, thus conceiving chromosomally abnormal embryos. That is, when they are able to actually conceive.

This time, my dosage of Follistim has been decreased, and an additional stim dropped entirely, with the hope that this will allow more of my eggs to mature a little slower, and properly trigger. This is what we are now hoping and praying for virtually every day.

I’ve also decided that I’m going to learn how to give myself the injections this cycle. That does not mean I will actually be doing them all myself. Nurse Stepmom is again generously giving me my injections, but I’m going to have her teach me how. I’ll do a couple under her tutelage, on the off chance I get stuck having to do it myself. But until that happens, I’m having her do it! I haven’t had pain or a bruise from any of these injections yet, and I firmly believe I owe that to her expertise and skill! This process is stressful enough without having to stab myself every day.

And no, the Wacky Wicketeer is not allowed near my shots. You see, my big, strong husband is afraid of needles. Despite this fact, he grudgingly said to me one day, “I guess I could try giving you a shot.” I replied with a firm, “no way!” I love him for wanting to help, but what I don’t need is a husband passed out on the floor and me still standing there, having to stab myself.

Finally, I promised my tweeps (friends on Twitter, for those who aren’t) that I would share another use for the insulated bags Dove gave us at BlogHer ‘11. Here it is: Transporting our IVF meds that are supposed to be refrigerated! Hey, if it’s good enough for ice cream…

If you have any questions about anything I’ve discussed in this post, please don’t hesitate to ask!

On Frequent Blogging and BlogHer '11

Most of you know that I spent much of the last five days in San Diego at BlogHer '11. The Wacky Wicketeer went with me and it was awesome! It was also a lesson in sleep deprivation for me. On the other hand, the Wacky Wicketeer got to sleep all day while I was at the sessions. I'm planning additional posts on our experiences while we were down there, but I'm still waiting to get my hands on some pics that were taken.

Before heading to BlogHer, I read that it was important to identify my primary purpose for attending.  Mine was to gain knowledge and inspiration for becoming a more frequent blogger. To that end, I've learned about editorial calendars, prioritizing, memes, and all sorts of helpful tools! Today I even started my own blog editorial calendar. I'm hoping this will help me to better honor your investment in reading this blog.

One of the other things I realized along the way is that I've been making my blog design too complicated. So, you should see some changes soon that will hopefully make it a little easier to read, and give it a cleaner feel.

Before I sign off tonight, I'll leave you with a pic that was a highlight of my trip: meeting Bob Harper, the trainer from The Biggest Loser!

Manic Monday Munchies: The Farmers' Market

Eggs from our Farmers' Market

Last Saturday morning, the Wacky Wicketeer and I finally checked out the nearest Farmers’ Market. It had recently moved from about eight miles away to only 2-3 miles away, so we had no excuse as to why we hadn’t been there yet (other than the fact my darling husband likes to sleep until noon on Saturdays).

We were on the hunt for meat and dairy products mostly, because we already have weekly deliveries of local, organic, fruits and vegetables from Farm Fresh to You. Sure enough, we found local, organic, pasture-raised chicken, beef, eggs and cheese. The only things missing that I needed were milk and yogurt. However, I am planning a visit to the Sacramento Natural Foods Co-op, where I’ve heard I can find local milk and yogurt. We also happened to find some fresh, shelled, raw walnuts and pistachios, and a gorgeous hanging geranium plant for our backyard. It was a great time, with the ambience of people chatting and getting to know their food-providers, and even live music in the background.

Geranium from our Farmers' Market

So why go to the trouble? First of all, it’s really not much trouble. Even before we were trying to eat anything organic, much less organic and local, we would make trips to both Bel-Air and Costco every 1-2 weeks for groceries. Now, our produce is delivered to us, so about every two weeks, I’ll go to the Co-op for milk and yogurt, and the Wacky Wicketeer and I will have a Saturday morning date browsing the Farmers’ Market. But what if I need more food suddenly, for guests, or something? Then I just drive an extra five miles to the Davis Ranch stand in Sloughouse. Or, I take something out of the freezer, or make an extra trip to the Co-op. By the way, I’m no longer buying frozen food. Instead, I freeze some of what I get from the farms, for when it goes out of season, or if I happen to need extra. When you are eating local food, you actually observe its seasonality.

That brings up the second reason we are becoming sort of “locavores”. Food tastes so much better when it is in season, and appropriately ripened. What’s more, because it hasn’t had to travel thousands of miles, it didn’t  require genetic modification, or preservatives-leaving it in its pure state, as God and Mother Nature intended-naturally delicious (not to mention nutritious).

Local Wine

Our third reason is health. Our health and the health of our planet. The environmental savings when eating locally is obvious. It means your food didn’t have to use the petroleum required, and create the resulting
pollution, to travel from thousands of miles away. Moreover, we help to preserve biodiversity by not requiring our food to be genetically modified so that it can last longer. There is also an immediate benefit to our own bodies-we no longer have to strain our liver and kidneys, among other things, in digesting additives and preservatives. In addition, think about the recent recall of eggs due to salmonella poisoning-because I bought my eggs from a local farmer with a small flock (I even got to see pictures of the hens wandering around their pasture outside the barn), I wasn’t worried if my eggs were part of the recall. There is a lot more to this, but I’m not an expert on it (yet), and it would make this an even longer post.

The fourth reason is one that doesn’t occur to a lot of people. When you buy food grown and produced locally, you are doing a better job in supporting your local economy. A farm is a business, just like a restaurant or clothing shop is a business. Buying your goods from local businesses instead of national chains generates close to three times the money for the local economy. (Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, Kingsolver, p. 149.)

Coinciding (but maybe not so coincidental) with our foray into locavore life, I’ve been reading a related book, called Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, by Barbara Kingsolver. I highly suggest you read it, no matter where you live, whether urban or rural, and no matter whether you are a vegetarian or at the carnivore end of our omnivore spectrum. It gave me a new appreciation for our family farms and farmers and their struggles, and it’s important that we have our eyes wide open to what exactly it is that we put in our bodies every day. Moreover, find a farmers’ market nearby, and make it a date or family outing to check it out. You may be surprised at how close one is to you. Here are a couple of websites that may help:

http://www.localharvest.org/  (United States and some Canada)
http://www.cafarmersmarkets.com/ (California)

You can also find local co-ops that have a local store, permanent stand, or deliver direct to your home or business. Many of these farms often give tours. For example, Farm Fresh to You offers tours of their farm, Capay Organic, the second Saturday of the month. You can find similarevents and tours at http://www.localharvest.org/events.jsp.

Of course, we still have our weaknesses that we don’t buy entirely locally: Feta cheese, chocolate, tea, and decaf coffee are big ones. And we’re still figuring out how to get bread made from locally-grown grains, among other things. But we love the changes we’ve made so far, and intend to do more to bring our family’s focus back to the garden and kitchen. This change to local eating has also come with a focus on cooking, and less pre-packaged, quick-foods. We are inspired by this quote from Ms. Kingsolver:

Households that have lost the soul of cooking from their routines may not know what they’re missing: the song of a stir-fry sizzle, the small talk of clinking measuring spoons, the yeasty scent of rising dough, the painting of flavors onto a pizza before it slides into the oven. The choreography of many people working in one kitchen is, by itself, a certain definition of family, after people have made their separate ways home to be together. The nurturing arts are more than just icing on the cake, insofar as they influence survival. We have dealt to today’s kids the statistical hand of a shorter life expectancy than their parents, which would be us, the ones taking care of them. Our thrown-away food culture is the sole reason. By taking the faster drive, what did we save?

(Animal, p. 130.)

Our reasons for eating locally-grown goods are many and complicated. But doing so is not. The act of local eating is simplicity at its best and yummiest.

A Due Date: Our Story of Blessing and Loss, part 1

Today is the day my first baby, Athanasios, was due. If I had the healthy, normal pregnancy that we expected, I would have been giving birth to my first child this week.
This is a difficult day, and week, for me. Nevertheless, I’m glad it has finally come to pass. It feels cathartic, like now it’s time to turn a new page in our story. So, I’ve decided to take this opportunity to go back and share the details of our infertility and miscarriage journey thus far.

Since the last time I posted specifically about our TTC attempts and our IUI protocol, etc., was almost a year ago, I thought I would briefly review the protocol that I started to describe there, and then get on telling you about the rest of the journey. If you need reminders about what certain procedures, medications, etc. are, head back to the August 20, 2009 post. And if you need to get caught up on the whole history of our TTC journey, read the July 30, 2009 post.

Last August we started a medicated IUI cycle that included me taking Clomid on CDs 3-7. Side effects that I had from it included hot flashes, bloating, headaches, and blind spots (like stars you see when you get a concussion or a migraine). I have heard from other gals that mood swings are also very common, and the doctor warned me that the Clomid could thin out the uterine lining and decrease cervical mucus (which is an important fluid present around ovulation (“O”) that helps the sperm swim through the cervix and into the uterus).

Because of the last couple of side effects from Clomid, the next drug was Estrogen, or Estradiol, which I took on CDs 8-12. The bloating continued, but the other side effects subsided. Starting on CD 11, I had to use an ovulation predictor kit (“OPK”) first thing in the morning, and as soon as we had a positive result, call the clinic and go in for an intra-vaginal ultrasound (“IVUS”) to see how big my mature follicles were and how thick my uterine lining was, and from that, predict how close I was to O. We also had to abstain starting on CD 9 until the insemination, so that my dear husband (AKA “the Wacky Wicketeer”) could build up a good store of soldiers before making his deposit! They start you on CD 9 in case you have to get the IUI on CD 12, so that you have three days of storage, but I didn’t O until CD 14 (as usual), so it was a long time, I tell ya! And mind you, those days are your most fertile, so for the previous two years, that had been prime baby-dancing time! What a switch…

On CD 13, I had a positive OPK, and we went in for my IVUS. I had two good, mature follicles and a nice uterine lining, so then I was injected with a form of HCG, AKA, the pregnancy hormone. This injection is commonly called a trigger shot, because it is supposed to trigger O. It also means that for a period of time, you could get a false positive on a home pregnancy test (“HPT”), because you had the very hormone it tests for injected into your system. The Doc then told us that the Wacky Wicketeer would need to be back early in the morning and make his deposit, and two hours later would be my second round with the IVUS, to make sure everything still looked good and see if I had O’d yet or not, and then an IUI.

Late that night was one of the most painful I’d had up to that point. My ovaries felt like they were going to explode! Sure enough, when I returned the next morning, I had already O’d. So, we had just the one shot at IUI.

After the Wacky Wicketeer made his deposit, they took the soldiers, “washed” them, to get rid of dead and useless ones, and then gave them a special vitamin solution to swim around in on their voyage.

Now, my turn. The tiny room we were in already contained me, the Wacky Wicketeer, the RE (doctor), and the nurse. As I’m laying there with my feet in the stirrups, all pride gone, into this sardine can walks two more people - a lab tech, with an assistant in tow. The lab tech is carrying what we’ve all been waiting for – the troops have arrived! In her hand is what looks to me like a two-foot long straw. It was labeled, and she very formally read our names from the label, and we said, yep, that’s us! The RE then took the straw from her, and the lab tech and her assistant left. Whew. A little more breathing room. That’s when the RE, having already used the speculum on me like a regular gynecological pelvic exam, inserts a catheter connected to the straw through the vaginal canal, past the cervix, up into the uterus, and aims as close to the fallopian tubes as he can get, so those little soldiers have a shorter swim. It wasn’t real painful, just a little weird, and I had a little cramping start when it passed my cervix, sort of like mild menstrual cramps. It took a couple of minutes (seemed like an eternity to me!), and when the RE was done, he set an egg timer for 10 minutes, and said I could get up, dressed, and go when the timer went off. Oh, and that we should boink like bunnies that night to add to our chances!

Not that night, but the following night, I started taking a prescribed compound vaginal suppository nightly. It was a compound that was primarily intended to deliver progesterone, to support a possible early pregnancy, and make sure I didn’t start menstruating earlier than I should. The suppositories are messy, so you take it right before you go to bed. I was instructed to take it until either my period came, or I had a blood test that showed I was negative for pregnancy, at least sixteen days post-IUI.

Normally, good ol’ “Aunt Flo” (or “AF”, as the TTC community so quaintly refers to a woman’s period) arrives on CD 26 or 27 for me, not 29 like for the “average” woman. This would have been only twelve days post-IUI for me, but the progesterone prevented my period from starting normally, so I took a HPT. OK, I took several HPTs. They were all that dreaded BFN (big fat negative)! But, just in case, hope beyond hopes, I had to continue waiting another four days, then went in for the blood “beta” test. (I have no idea why they call it a beta test.) Of course, it was negative.

So, our first IUI was a failure. It was also very stressful. Not having gone through the process before, and, at the time, not understanding everything I was supposed to do, or why I was supposed to do it, but being the sole person responsible for making sure that everything happened at just the right time – whew! Add the hormones to that mix, and you can imagine. And everything else in life doesn’t just go on hold because you’re going through this, either.

The toughest point for me was getting the negative home tests, because I knew at that point, that it hadn’t worked. After the blood test confirming that we were NOT pregnant, I stopped the progesterone, and AF showed up three days later. My first instinct was to give up. But my determined Wacky Wicketeer would have none of it. Ultimately, it was an easy decision to take a month off before we would try IUI again.

Come back soon for my next post, which will pick up with our second IUI cycle – when we were blessed with our first pregnancy, and lost our first Angel baby, Athanasios.

Thankful Thursday: Let's Get Physical

Oooooo, a little bit of a risque image, right? Well, I thought it was appropriate for this edition of Thankful Thursday, which is about the physical.

I am thankful for this body God gave me, the home of my soul, temple of my spirit. I am thankful for the legs I have that can walk, run, and jump. Thankful for the eyes in my head that allow me to read and watch, and see all in the world that is so beautiful. I am thankful for the ears I have that allow me to hear, and to listen. Thankful for my lips I have to kiss my husband, and that will someday allow me to kiss my baby's head, and feel the soft fuzz of my baby's hair. I am thankful for the nose that will smell that sweet baby smell, and that allows me joy in the scent of gardenias, jasmine, the spring blossoms on my tangelo tree, and the warm pine and dirt scent of the mountains. I am thankful for the skin I have with which I can touch and be touched by loved ones, and that inexplicably gets goose bumps when I'm inspired or when I watch a hallmark commercial.

I'm thankful for my Wacky Wicketeer's sexy dimples, and his warm, bright eyes. Thankful for his strong arms that hold me close and comfort me. I'm thankful for his gentle hands and his heat-radiating body.

I'm thankful for the smell of clean sheets, the feel of a cool fan on a hot summer's day, and the taste of a tart popsicle.

Lisa Nichols has said: "No one else can dance your dance. No one else can sing your song. No one else can write your story. Who you are, what you do, begins right now."

I am thankful for me.

Thankful Thursday

I'm going to try to post a gratitude list on Thursdays, so here is today's.

I am thankful for the financial stability we have been graced with. Thankful that both our cars are paid off, we have no credit card debt, and my spouse has a great job that he enjoys and that allows for me to do whatever I want on a daily basis. And for the bonus that is going to let me buy a new couch next month!

I'm thankful for the healthy body that God has given me. I feel so lucky to have it in working order.

I'm thankful for where I am in my life and in the world. I'm thankful that God has put me right here, right now. My history has made me who I am, and I love that person.

I'm also thankful for my wonderful husband. It is absolutely amazing to find someone who can love me the same way I love him. To have a partner in every sense of the word-someone who is both your equal and your opposite, with whom you develop a way of flowing through each day together. Giving and taking, supporting and opposing, all as needed, and in a strange, rhythmic way that just feels right. I suppose that's what makes him my soulmate.

My first wordless Wednesday!

Well, almost wordless.

The reason I am sitting in a hotel room in Texas all by myself:

Could you resist those dimples? Really?

I'm a big flake, and I hate the new ATMs

Yes, I know, back in February I said I'd come back and write about my own personal love story, but then I stayed away for four months. What can I say, I'm a big flake. I'm sorry. I am now trying to be more consistent, so hopefully it won't be four months before I'm back again.

Today, my focus is on the new ATMs my Bank has installed. When they first put them in some months ago, I thought, "Hey, these are great, no envelopes to cause litter and waste paper, and I can get a little miniature scanned copy of the checks I'm depositing - nifty!" I think I even told my husband how happy I was about this, because it meant I could take my business checks straight to the ATM to deposit and didn't need to scan them in at my home office first. Then yesterday happened.

On Sunday, the 28th, my dear husband was obviously stressed about how low our checking account was, since he had automatic billpay set up to come out of the account on the 30th. I told him I probably had a check sitting in my P.O. Box that I could pick up and deposit on Monday morning, and another check already in hand. He instructed me that it needed to be done right away.

On Monday afternoon, at about 4:30 and on the other side of town, I remembered this needed to be done. I made it across town, picked up my mail at the Post Office, and made it to the ATM at 5 minutes to 5pm. I thought that I had to get the deposit in before 5pm in order for it to count that business day.

Superbly pleased with myself for my speed and efficiency, I inserted my ATM card in the machine and pushed the required buttons. Then, the slot popped open and the machine asked for my check. I carefully slipped the edge of the first check in, and it grabbed it from my hand and sucked it inside the machine. Then it spit it back out. So I tried again, with the same result. "OK," I thought, "maybe it doesn't like that check because it had been folded in half and had a crease in it I couldn't get rid of. At least it's the smaller check, so I'll try the other one that's so nice and flat."

I again pressed the demanded buttons, the machine grabbed my check out of my hand, and then try to spit it out without the slot fully opening. The check jammed up against the "lips" on the slot, and as I tried to reach in and grab it, the machine continued to suck it in, spit it out, suck in, spit out, and so on, making the jam worse, but slowly getting enough of a corner to stick out so I could finally grab it and pull it out. At this point, the check was torn and crumpled, and there was no way I was going to try that check again.

"Well, maybe it's just this particular ATM." So I tried the one next to it. No luck. At that point, the branches were closed, so I couldn't walk in to make the deposit, and since the ATM change, we no longer even have the option of using an envelope. Poop. I was just so pissed that after all I did to try to get the deposit it on time, the stupid machine wouldn't let me. So, I called my husband and told him about my adventure and apologized for not being able to get it deposited, and could we reschedule the payments so that we aren't overdrawn. Then he tells me we aren't going to be overdrawn, just low on cash. Great. Thanks for clarifying that before I had a freaking stroke!

I think I can reliably say that I will not be using the ATMs for my deposits any longer. Add to these problems the fact that there are no longer any mirrors for me to be able to watch the scary person who is wandering around behind me, and I doubt I will be using the ATMs at all. Hey, maybe I can help keep a human being employed. Silver lining!