Of Design Flaws and Neanderthals

I have a major design flaw.

Actually, I have more than one, but this particular flaw is causing me a lot of pain right now.

You see, I have super-duper high arches.

Said arches lead to improper weight distribution in my feet.

My right foot, in particular.

I found out today that the poor design of my foot, along with walking on my treadmill, are the cause of my recent, and ongoing, pain.

X-rays only confirmed what the doctor suspected.

I have a stress fracture on the top of my foot.

No wonder it hurts so much.

I've been limping around since Thursday of last week, trying to manage the dogs, the kids, the household, without bending my right foot when I walk.

Not an easy task.

I've been popping Aleve, which has helped.

So has a nice big glass of Merlot.

I now have a lovely orthopedic shoe, designed to keep my foot immobilized, that I am to wear for two weeks; three if I still have pain.

So tell me, who's going to take the puppy out to poop at midnight?

Oh, and Sarah is still sick, so she's basically just taking up space and using up tissues right now.

Michael is still a continent away.

Poor Melissa.

It's not easy being the only able-bodied person in the house.

I think this is the greatest of my design flaws, though a slightly larger chest and a stronger back would be nice.

If this were all, it wouldn't be so bad.

But my design flaw is coupled with several systems failures, all of which make me feel as if I'm falling apart.

My first and foremost system failure has to do with serotonin. Either my brain doesn't produce enough or my synapses don't absorb it fast enough; thus my lifelong battle with depression.

The second system failure, hypothyroidism, has caused me much fatigue and grief over the last 5 or so years.

Fortunately, my system failures and design flaws can be treated with great success these days, though my doctor has forbidden me to use a treadmill ever again.

But I've often thought about prehistoric times. Though the question is likely moot, as I wouldn't have lived to my middle forties then anyway, I can't help but consider what my life would have been like.

Would my high arches have caused problems keeping up with the rest of the hunter-gatherer band? Would I have been left behind, alone on the grassland, waiting for the saber tooth to get me? Had this happened earlier, due to the number of walking miles put on by the time of puberty, would I even have successfully passed on my genes, flaws and all?

Do you keep a melancholic around the campfire when she just brings the rest of the tribe down? Or would all the walking have kept the depression at bay?

How about the thyroid? No one would have wasted their own energy carrying an exhausted elder on a travois.

I'm pretty fortunate to live in the times I do.

Though it might have been a lot easier letting the puppy out of the cave to pee...

Without Him

Footprints in my bathtub
Toothpaste in the sink
Pawprints on the kitchen floor
What am I to think?

Dirty dishes stacking high
Laundry pile flows
Ashes scattered on the hearth
Is this how it goes?

Beds unmade, dogs unfed
The porch? It isn't swept
The children? Eating junk food
My hair? It is unkempt.

Rugs with bits of dog bones covered
The upstairs hall? A mess
Table surfaces full of mail
Whose fault? I must confess...

My darling, dearest took a plane
Away to Chile he flew
Gone for two weeks in the sun
Earning money, it's true

But me? I have an injured foot
My daugher, she is sick
The puppy's crazy, the dog threw up
This life I wouldn't pick

Youngest daughter soldiers on
The eggs, she counted four
The chicken water must be changed
Who'll head on out the door?

This isn't the first time he's been gone
You'd think it would be old hat
But without exercise, due to foot
I'm afraid I'm getting fat

Five days down, 10 more to go
The girls and I'll survive
All we have to do, he said,
Is keep ourselves alive

My foot will mend
Her sore throat heal
The dogs will wag and slobber
I love my darling, I tell myself
As down the steps I hobble

I must work hard not to hold a grudge,
The mantra in my head
I beg the girls, just a litle nap?
A mere hour in my bed?

The boys have called, they love me so
The girls and I are fine
My primary coping skill, I find
Is lots and lots of wine

We'll make it through, our love intact
Our house? A different matter
A funny thing, these times apart,
Our love they do not shatter

We're building memories
Forging bonds
Loving ever after
But when he calls, I must admit,
I don't feel much like chatter

Time apart, it strengthens hearts
The old adage simply states
That sage, I'll wager, was a mom
At home without her mate

Despite it all, we excitedly wait
Anxious for his return
Someday, I think, it would be nice
For him to take a turn...

He's working hard, and so are we
A continent apart
And though it's tough, for all of us
He's always in my heart

We await his return with open arms,
Oh my, we love him so
We'll hold him tight, kiss him lots
Until next time he has to go

Valentines

I don't know why so many people seem to "hate" Valentine's Day.

I find it delightful to have a day dedicated to expressing one's love to those near and dear to us.

And of course, just because there is a specific day dedicated to expressing love doesn't mean that love can't be expressed every day.

Michael left on Valentine's Day for two weeks in Chile. It will be warm, but he'll be spending grueling days in corn fields. Definitely not a pleasure trip. On a last minute trip to the grocery store for dog bones and ibuprofen he also bought these lovely tulips for me.

He brought them to me while singing "Besame" a la Andrea Bocelli. Sweet.

The girls woke up to big heart shaped boxes of chocolates from Walgreens. I used a prescription transfer coupon that netted me a $25 gift card. The chocolates were free and the love is genuine.

I also made a batch of double chocolate brownies for them.

Zachary and Stephen got Valentine's wishes via email.

It was a sweet and lovely day...

Dark Days Eat Local - Week 13

This week we had the distinct honor of using our own eggs for our local meal. This was the first week we had a dozen - actually 13 - eggs! I'm sure the excitement will wear off some day, but I think it's far in the future.

Michael made us fried eggs and oven fries, a meal we would eat every day if we could. We had locally made butter on homemade whole wheat oat bread. Umm, umm.

Our local family-owned dairy, Picket Fence Creamery, milks Jersey cows. The milk is incredibly creamy and delicious, unlike any milk I've ever tasted before. It's always a sad day when we run out and have to buy regular milk from a commercial dairy. The creamery is about a 40 minute drive from us. Though the milk is sold locally in a specialty grocery store, it's substantially less expensive, even figuring in the cost of gas, to drive out to the dairy. We're experimenting with freezing gallons of milk in the hopes that we can do a once-a-month stock up trip.

Finally, we thawed another quart of strawberries from last summer. I had recently splurged on a pound of fresh strawberries from California. Believe me, there was no comparison. While the fresh strawberries were okay, our strawberries - frozen at the peak of flavor - beat them hands down.

Last summer we planted our own strawberry patch. I can't wait to see what our yield is this summer. It's exciting to think of strolling out and picking our own fresh berries!

Progress

There's a light at the end of our debt tunnel.
Unfortunately, it's a CFL, so it's still a little dim.
But it's definitely better than the deep, dark cave we seemed to be facing a few months ago.
Probably the greatest boost to digging ourselves out of debt has been our new attention to detail. We are tracking absolutely every single penny we spend. Then, Michael and I are sitting together in front of our spreadsheets, sometimes for hours at a time, planning, discussing, and working together to dig us out of our hole.
All this, and we haven't even been fighting about our decisions.
It's all about attitude.
We both want to get out of this mess, admittedly of our own making, and eliminate the constant worry and stress that debt causes.
The second greatest boost to our debt reduction was the bonus dh got from work. We were almost positive that it would be eliminated this year, so it was a welcome and much needed surprise that the company still delivered. Now, I'm not talking million dollar Wall Street broker bonuses here. But it was enough to pad our meager savings account and pay off a whopping $11,000 credit card balance, my son's spring tuition, a new kennel and dog treats for Ivy, and a few other dibs and dabs we owed here and there.
This still leaves us with our car loan, a second mortgage (used to make our old house liveable), and two credit cards with uncomfortably large balances, but we can see that each month we're going to be able to make strides on our dual goals of savings and debt reduction. We've also renewed investing in dh's 401K, though we've definitely shifted our stock/bond ration to a much more conservative mix.
It isn't easy being on a strict budget like we are. Sometimes I feel as if I'm almost strangling as I weigh a purchase against the actual cash I have left for the week. But I realize I should have been doing this for the last 15 years and welcome the self-discipline I'm developing.
We are on track for being completely out of debt in about 2 years and I've never been so excited. There's still a long road to travel, but I'm much more hopeful that we'll actually get there.
Whew!

A Question of Presidential Taste

Dear President Obama,

My family and I are quite disappointed in you.

No, this isn't about the stimulus (we're glad it passed), and while we're certainly disappointed in the tax foibles of several of your nominees, we regard that less a problem with your judgment than with their honesty.

No, Mr. President, my concern hits much closer to home than even a tax credit. You see, we heard that your staffers introduced you to a cookie made here in Des Moines and that you and your wife and children "love" them.

Apparently, your staff brought you and your family "Baby Boomer Chocolate Chunk" cookies during the campaign. Word is that you loved them so much that your staff even had them shipped to you and yours even when you weren't in Iowa.

Recognizing this as high praise for a cookie, I jumped at the chance to buy a package of "Baby Boomer Chocolate Chunk Cookies" when I saw them in a local grocery store. In fact, I bought three packages of the cookies, each containing two, so my whole family could try them.

Now, I consider myself a proud and loyal Iowan and I certainly wouldn't want to harm anyone's business, let alone a small bakery in the newly resurging are of downtown Des Moines known as East Village. But this is an issue on which I cannot remain silent.

Therefore, I say this with the utmost respect for you and Michelle, Mr. President, but you've got to be kidding.

The cookies were tasteless, bland, and, dare I say, non-descript. And though the chocolate chunks were large and plentiful, the cookie itself was, to put it bluntly, flavorless. Even my children, ages 11-20, asked if they had to finish their cookies.

I realize you have many pressing concerns on your agenda, Mr. President, but I would think that having a rather blah cookie known as the "Obama" cookie would rank relatively high on your list.

I can only imagine that if you and your family truly love these cookies, you must never have had a homemade, fresh-from-the-oven-delicious, chocolate chip cookie.

I find it particularly sad that Sasha and Malia seem unaquainted with the delights of home baked goodness.

Now, I know you and Michelle likely don't have much time to spend in the kitchen these days, but I'm hopeful you will take the time to ask your mother-in-law to pull out the mixer and oven mitts in the White House kitchen and bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies for those little girls.
I believe that once you've tried a freshly-baked cookie, you'll realize the error of your ways. And once you do, a simple "I screwed up," is all I ask.

Sincerely,

The Lauers

P.S. I've included here a recipe for a whole grain chocolate chip cookie my family loves.

Obama-worthy Chocolate Chp Cookies (adapted from King Arthur Flour Whole Grain Baking)

3/4 cup butter

1 cup paccked brown sugar

2 teaspoons vanilla

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon espresso powder

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/3 cup honey

1 Tablespoon cider vinegar

2 large eggs

2 1/4 cups whole wheat flour

3 cups bittersweet chocolate chips

Melt the butter and stir in sugar. Heat until mixture begins to bubble. Remove from heat and transfer to medium bowl to cool.

Sir in vanilla, salt, baking soda, espresso powder, baking powder, honey and vinegar. Add eggs, beating well after each addition, then flour, stirring to combine. Mix in chips. Refrigerate dough several hours or overnight.

Preheat oven to 375. Place dough by rounded tablespoonfuls onto lightly greased baking sheets. Bake the cookies until just beginning to brown around edges, about 12 minutes. Remove from oven and cool cookies on pan, about 5 minutes.

Haute Couture

Must-have fashion for the trendy lizard in your life...