Magazine Life

Somehow, miraculously, yesterday's peace and potential resulted in this:

Now would be the time when Nils pops up out of nowhere chanting, "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!"
Yes, he does that all of the time. It's awesome and amazing and does in fact boost one's energy. I told you, we're raising an 80s villain. He also likes to sing "Go Mommy! Go Mommy!" for me... and himself which is the best "Go Nils! Go Nils!"

Seriously though, Casey! Casey! Casey!

You know how magazines are always acting like people can turn nothing into something just by digging around their house? For once, that worked for me. A few months ago my mom snagged some awesome Kindergarten cubbies from my old school and saved them for us. They were awesome, real wood, and huge. So we cut them in half and turned them into this:

They are so useful. I could have cleaned them up for their blog debut and made them look like a magazine. I could have lined up our shoes adorably across the bottom. I could have put my llbean tote in there just so. I could have a picture that is centered and includes the cool picture hanging above them and flowers on top. But that isn't real life. This is what those cubbies really look like everyday. Hm... perhaps I will paint and distress those too...

Yesterday I contemplated the leftover cubbies (from cutting them in half). I ended up popping the side off of one of them and attaching it to the back of the other to make it stable. Then, I found some leftover paint from my laundry room and got to work (yes, my laundry room is that happy color). What fun! Some sandpaper completed the look and then the kids helped me move kitchen stuff onto it. I love it!

Again, I could have gone with magazine quality... but that's what our island actually looks like this morning.

For years now I've had a picture on our fridge of a kitchen I tore out of a magazine. It is an island with a beautiful shelf built in underneath. Finally! Finally!

Chris has been lovingly teasing me about our house lately. Something about the spring makes me nest. I can't stop daydreaming and working and changing and rearranging. Hm... speaking of which... I have a shelf to go hang in the bathroom...

I DID IT!

Last year I actually made a 2015 New Year Resolution.
And then even more surprisingly, as of this morning, it is now safe to officially say: I DID IT!
I went to 515am Bodypump and Bootcamp for the entirety of 2015.

I wish I'd thought to do a formal "before" photo back in January. It honestly just didn't occur to me. I knew that I would stick with it. I knew that it would be transformative. I just didn't think to take a before pic. Here's the best I've got:

December 2014

I was in pretty good shape this time last year. I was going to BodyPump twice a week and lifting a "normal" amount of weight for a female. At least I'm just guessing that was what an average female is lifting in Bodypump based on the fact that I was lifting around what every other female in my class was lifting.

Then for NY15 I resolved to not miss a work out. I was already going to 515am m/w BodyPump regularly and showing up for Friday bootcamp every once in a while so my resolution was to go to m/w BodyPump and Friday 515am Bootcamp. Every week. The only legitimate excuses were migraine or being out of town.

And then... I did it. I went. And I went. And I went. I missed a few summer bootcamps while I was on vacation (but sadly, not too many. note to self: go on vacation more). I missed a few classes along the way due to migraines (but thankfully only like one or two!). But overall... I didn't miss. I'm always there. I've practically worn a hole in the floor from the door to "my" spot. I've become a fixture in those classes. People I don't know know my name. The instructor sometimes talks to me during the class (like, in her microphone). When I do miss, people notice and asks where I was.

Weird, right?

But it's not weird anymore... it's now my normal. Which is weird.

So, one full year of working out. What's changed? Well, I'm a heck of a lot stronger. The resolution was simply to show up. But I found that I started focusing on getting stronger and competing against myself. I didn't want to just show up and then end 2015 where I started. I wanted to keep moving up in my weights. Bodypump is all about high reps for lean muscles rather than bulking up. So for instance we might do like 100 reps of different bicep curls. I think I've almost tripled my bicep weights from what I was lifting a year ago. Now when I look around I'm lifting what most of the men in the room are lifting. Meanwhile, bootcamp has driven me in such a way that my doctors are thrilled when they read my blood pressure numbers on their charts. People assume that I've lost weight. Interestingly, I haven't. I'm a Weight Watchers Lifetime Member so I know that I have lost exactly three pounds. I think I've dropped two pant sizes though. Can I just say "weird" again? Physically, I've just become a person who works out regularly, intensely, for an hour three times a week. And it feels great.

It's also been good for me emotionally. I like to say "it's cheaper than therapy!" even though it isn't since therapy would be free on our insurance. So... yeahhh... it is good for me though. There's something great about going to the gym three times a week where only two people know anything about me. I just sweat and work hard and make weird faces and talk to myself in the mirror (usually something to the tune of "oh just do it!" when I'm about to drop a heavy weight). It feels good to set small goals (like add a weight or run faster) and then accomplish them.

This morning right after my last workout of the year I asked Chris to take my picture (nothing like looking worse in your "after" photos, right?). I was pretty tempted to just upload a picture of Chris with his big bushy beard as my after photo. Ha! But I can't find one so I guess I'll just show you what I've been working on.

2015: the year of exercising.
Now I need something to keep me motivated for 2016. Uh oh... any ideas?

Mary Has Chosen the Better Part

Currently reading: still in the depths of Benjamin Franklin. As it turns out if you just read a paragraph here and there when you steal a minute or two to read... then it takes forever to read a book. Better than not reading though.
Number of cups of coffee gulped down this morning: wouldn't you like to know? Hmph. Yeah, like I'd admit that number. You'd probably send that info straight to my neurologist. I don't need that kind of blackmail information hanging out there.
Number of various to-do and check-offs and grocery lists and what-nots stacked up in the kitchen: too many.


I'm not the person who gets caught up in the Christmas consumerism. Oh Heaven's no. Have you met me? No, no, no. I am guilty of the same thing Martha is in Luke (10:38-42). Martha, as it turns out, is "distracted by her many tasks" (Luke 10:40).

In the Greek it actually says that she was distracted by her ministry.

So, what have I been distracted by this Advent season? Well, I'm teaching an adult forum on Luke. I spent a million hours stuck at our stove while I labored over caramel corn for librarians and teachers and various other people for whom we give thanks (side note: thanks a lot Houston December humidity for ruining so much of that). We brought cookies to the employees at the Goodwill near our house. We've got a huge thing of chocolate bark peppermint candy that needs to be packaged and given away. Gatorade and candy packets are waiting for the recycling truck guys to pass by so that I can run out with a cheering Nils on my hip. A hundred packets of Martha Stewart's hot cocoa we're made for the church Christmas party. I'm in charge of the craft for Nils' Christmas party so instead of being a "normal" mom and just buying some sort of kit I wanted to use things we already had on hand and created a bunch of snowmen for them to glue together. Of course. Logical. And all family gifts have been carefully created or selected, wrapped, and put away. Well, almost all.

Yes, Martha, I too have been distracted by my ministry. That's the kicker about Advent, isn't it? Even if you're doing good things, they can still be insanely distracting. And the problem for me is that I love it. I love all of those things. As my sister always reminds me, we all have the same amount of time and just choose how we spend it. I, for one, don't watch tv. And ever since my Facebook epiphany I don't waste much time online either. Thus, I have "plenty of time" (or do I?) for all of this other stuff.

Isn't it interesting that Luke notes that Martha was distracted BY her ministry and not FROM it?

My goal was to be finished with the lists after this weekend (which for us meant when I went to bed on Saturday). It didn't happen. Instead I turned into Martha, burned my arm, and stood crying over a pot of hot caramel. Had Jesus been sitting in the living room I would have stormed in and demanded that he send someone into the kitchen to help me. Man, I hope that batch of caramel corn doesn't turn out Like Water for Chocolate!

The funny (sad?) thing is that if I were caught up in the Christmas consumerism, that would be an easier habit to break. I think it's much harder to keep oneself from getting too distracted by ministry. Saying "I'm not going to spend $500 on electronics for our kids this year!" is much easier than saying, "We aren't going to give presents to our garbage truck drivers anymore" (because, duh, of course we are. They are the people we are more thankful for than almost anyone!).

So, what's the solution?

I don't know actually. Starting preparations earlier? Maybe. Typing up a list of things I do every single year so that I at least know what I'm in for next year? Maybe. Setting aside times for sitting like Mary? Yes. For sure. And, well, maybe giving up some of the ministry actually. Perhaps I don't have to do everything. Maybe the teachers don't care if we give homemade caramel corn or just pick up a bunch of Starbucks gift cards. Hell, maybe they'd prefer the gift cards.

But that's the problem. I don't want to give gift cards. I LIKE doing it all. I like handmade gifts. I like the thought and effort it takes. I like that my children see the work and love (and yes, sometimes tears) that goes into giving around here.

You know what would have lessened the stress this year? Had I not gotten rid of all my winter clothes last summer. I mean, in my defense, they were all way too big (woo!) but it is pretty damn anxiety-producing that we're leaving town for a wedding on Thursday morning and I LITERALLY don't have clothes to bring for all of the events.

WHY AM I BLOGGING WHEN I SHOULD BE BUYING SOME CLOTHES?

At least Advent is supposed a time of active expectation. Christmas is the time for joyful contemplation and celebration of incarnation. Maybe I'll just slow down for Christmas.

And maybe next year I'll do a better job at Advent.

Classic Casey

"I attended a monster truck rally once," I announced at dinner tonight. "Yep, my little brother reallllly wanted to go, so my dad took me and Hunter. I thought it was cool for about five minutes and then ended up miserable and throwing up in a trashcan."
Classic.

"I'm having a Halloween party tomorrow," I said to Kelly on Friday. "I don't have a costume. The problem is this: I told everyone I would wear a costume, I refuse to buy anything, I have an insanely limited wardrobe, annndd it can't be too terribly weird because I invited a few people I don't know."
"Don't you have some diaper boxes?" she replied. "Robot?!"
Duh. She's a genius.
And then I spent the rest of the afternoon creating the most normal costume ever if you are having a party and invited people you don't know.

Classic.

I fell asleep in Carolena's bed tonight while mid-sentence telling a bedtime story about how my dad used to fall asleep in my bed tucking me in. I over-committed myself to bringing baked goods to school this semester and have already gotten my reminder email about the next thing. Halloween decor came down today because we're done with that and onto getting excited about thankfulness. Who has any more time to spend on "creepy" and "candy"? Boooorrring. But the bat tree is staying. I love that thing. It's 8pm and my 7-730pm nap just didn't do the trick so I'm ready to hit the hay.
Classic.

See ya in St. Looey, suckers.
Damn. I haven't finished our St. Louis vacation scrapbook yet. From May.
Classic.

How To Win Friends And Influence People: Not Afraid of Anything

Remember how I was looking for a book to read at C's school Halloween party?

Found it. Today we checked out The Little Old Lady Who Wasn't Afraid of Anything from the library. It should surprise no one that once I borrow my parents' gray wig (what? other people don't think that's a normal thing to say?*) I have all of the pieces to put together a costume and BE the little old lady.

YEESSSS!

Plus, I have everything to pull together all of the things she isn't afraid of in the book and have a really interactive book reading. The shoes go clomp clomp? Well guess what kid? You get to "clomp clomp" some of Chris' shoes.

The little old lady wasn't afraid of anything... and evidently neither am I because I just sent an email to people who don't know me (and thankfully one who does) depicting the details of my plan. THIS is what they're getting in response to "hey can someone find a Halloween book for us to read to the kids?"

{maniacal slytherin laughter is appropriate here}



*I also have been known to say, "Oh this old thing? It's my banana costume on permanent loan from the Jim Rush Collection."

How to Win Friends and Influence People

Sitting in the back of my parent's minivan (or was it the Astro by then?) on the way to my first week at Camp Allen's overnight camp I clearly remember my dad's very solid advice: "Just tell the girls in your cabin this story and everyone will want to be your friend!" The story was a captivating, especially to a third grader, and involved little Jimmy in boy scout camp, a bunch of shaving cream, and a shower stall. I showed up at camp with my ginormous duffel, my bedside fan, and my ace in the hole story. I settled in for the night and began my tale.

I had a great week that first year at camp. How could I not? It was camp! I had candy and did arts and crafts every single day! I swam and swam and swam. Messy games, fun songs, more swimming (there wasn't actually that much to do in those days besides swim), it was a great week. The last night one of my bunk mates sat in my bed chatting. "You know," she remarked in that third grader candid kind of way, "you're pretty cool. It's too bad Regina George told all of us to not be your friend at the beginning of the week."

Luckily for me, I'd been too busy having fun to realize that I hadn't made any friends.

I've been going to boot camp on Friday mornings for about six months now. It's the same faces each week. And those are the faces that I tend to see on Mondays and Wednesdays as well. Most people go with a friend, but I fly solo as my workout buddy hates bootcamp (and is now preggo and traveling across the entire country for the next few months).

Last week we went outside to run and a group of girls commented on the skunk smell. "Oh, man!" I said, "When I was pregnant..." and proceeded to tell a fabulous story about being pregnant with my second child, a skunk smell caught in our car air conditioner, and throwing up on my feet.

Nailed it.

Simpy Symphonic

I found out yesterday morning that the Houston Symphony's summer series would play in Katy that same evening. And you know what I love about Chris? That I mentioned it to him and his response was, "have fun!"

He's not a "you're going tonight tonight?!" kind of husband. He's not a "you're leaving me home alone with the kids and I have to get them bathed and in bed by myself?!" kind of dad. He's not even a "who are you going with?" kind of guy. He's a "have a great time! Wish I could go too!" keeper of a dude. Those time when he is a whiner (sorry Chris) it's usually because he wants to go too and not because he wants to hold me back. I digress... the point is...

I went!

None of my friends were free, but I didn't really anticipate that anyone would respond to a 10am text inviting them to a symphony performance that night. But something about going to my first Weight Watcher's meeting was empowering in an "I do what I want" kind of way (yeah, like I needed more of that side to my personality). Or perhaps that's why I went to ww in the first place? Whatever, I feel a little like Mole lately, "The Mole never heard a word he was saying. Absorbed in the new life he was entering upon, intoxicated with the sparkle, the ripple, the scents and the sounds and the sunlight, he trailed a paw in the water and dreamed long waking dreams." When I hear of something I want to do, I want to do it! So I do! And it's made life grand.

The Houston Symphony was ten minutes from my house. It was free. It was calling to me. So I threw on a summery outfit, tossed a good book in my purse, and headed out. I got there nice and early and grabbed a seat front row center.

I'm convinced that this is in fact not prime seating for the symphony, but figured, what the hell. When else will I ever get the chance to sit front center to view the Houston Symphony?!

It was fabulous of course. Beautiful. Powerful. Symphonic. During a Q&A with the conductor I learned that when a seat comes open in the Houston Symphony they entertain around 200 auditions. 200! for one seat! There are 89 members (most of them were there last night) and evidently, the words "symphony," "philharmonic," and "orchestra" are all synonyms. The conductor said that the three are interchangeable and assigned to a group by the founders. Good to know!

Well, "see the Houston Symphony perform" wasn't on my 2015 to-do list, but it should have been. Best summer ever continues and it's only June 10th! Wednesday, what adventures will you bring?

My Open Love Letter to Beth Bojarski

One day recently (so, like, in the last year or so) Kelly asked me to name people who have been largely influential in making me who I am today (obvious choices not included). Now, if you know Kelly at all then you know that this question was not one that merited a casual response. Kelly wasn't looking for an off the top of my head reply. She wanted an in-depth analysis of the most influential people in my life. Who were these people? How did I meet them? What impact did they have upon me? Give specific examples as to how am I living out that influence today. I don't remember if I passed the oral portion of the examination, but I've decided to submit the written part here.

Her question was intriguing. One I've thought about since that day. I thought about sending a letter to my most influential person, but I like the public nature of blogging. Plus, the drug my neurologist has me on makes my fingers go numb (an expected side effect) and thus lengthy letter writing will not be in my portfolio in the near future. It also makes for some interesting Bodypump classes - try doing a million clean and presses with numb hands. It's weird.

So... without further ado... surprise Beth! You are the first person that popped in my mind when Kelly asked me that question. Why? Because you are perhaps the person who I have most purposely looked up to and tried to learn from in my adult life. Surprised? Perhaps. Let me get everyone on the same page...

Beth was one of the first people I met when Chris and I moved to Virginia in 2006. The very first person in fact. She was our next door neighbor and was outside wearing a superman t-shirt and ready to help unpack our u-haul when we pulled up. She met us with a smile and a welcome basket from the seminary and a promise to always have an open door should I need to borrow an egg. Although... now that I type this out that was right around the time she went vegan... so... hmmm... Beth and a bunch of dudes unloaded our trailer for us and then sat down with a cooler of crappy beer and welcomed us to the neighborhood.

Getting a picture of how cool she is already?

Unfortunately for me, I met Beth before I had my "aha moment" in 2009 when I realized I was the "common denominator" in never making friends. *cough* More on that later if any one is interested. Or not. I'll summarize it for you: I had a moment of clarity when I realized I never made friends because I never tried to be anyone's friend. Tricky.

Fortunately for me, Beth is pretty damn cool and kept reaching out to me anyway despite my tendency to stay firmly put in my hobbit hole. So, here is how Beth influenced who I am today:

The first way that Beth impacted who I am today was a very specific occasion. Beth had a weekly gathering at her apartment (see, she knew how to make friends! sheesh) and at one such gathering the conversation turned catty. Beth was not one to normally partake in making fun of other people behind their backs (another thing I tried to pick up from her), but that particular night she said something rude. Who cares what she said? Who even remembered? It was just one comment among many that were said by a bunch of girls. The next day I found an email in my inbox from Beth sent to everyone who had attended. In it she acknowledged that she'd said something she regretted and wished that she could take it back. She apologized to everyone for hosting a party that ended up turning sour. I was 24 at the time so a bunch of girls sitting around and making fun of someone behind their back didn't seem to me like a party turning sour. That's just what a party was, right? {*see note above about how I did not yet know how to make friends at this time*} Beth's email in terms of my needing an apology didn't matter. But it changed my life! It was the first time that someone had reached out in reconciliation in that particular way. I knew that none of us needed Beth to apologize for her comment, she had needed to apologize. A year or so later I was at a party and made the same mistake. Sorry to burst your bubble people but seminary is a fish bowl. Seminarians say mean things when in a fish bowl. I found myself back home after the party and regretting the thing I'd said and the way I'd potentially made other people feel uncomfortable with my having said it (I'd made fun of a classmate). So, I took a page from Beth's book and sent everyone an email. And it was freeing. From then on I've done my best to always reach out in reconciliation when something is eating at me and that has been life changing.

Which leads us to my second point: Beth is one of the most genuine and openly honest people I've ever met. Perhaps the most genuine and openly honest person I've ever met. She is caring and compassionate and willing to share those feelings. But more than that she is willing to share the whole gamut of feelings. She doesn't hold back, but she does so in a way that is holy, in a way that invites others in and allows them to be a part of something holy. She showed me how to speak my mind no matter what the emotion. Being in school and a small group with Beth I saw her interact with a variety of people in a variety of situations and was amazed by her ability to voice her opinions in a way that didn't diminish the opinions of others. She stood firm in what she felt and believed, but didn't try to stomp on someone else's feet in giving voice to her thoughts. I saw her speak openly to friends when she was concerned for their well-being even if it was going to be an uncomfortable conversation. I saw her share her fears, her triumphs, her mundanes of life - and it was all beautiful - and I realized, that sharing one's life, one's whole life with people is in fact truly beautiful. Beth's ability to be so open and honest gave me the desire to live my life in the same way and it is something that since meeting her I have actively pursued. What I've found is that it's freeing and has opened new opportunities in my life for friendship and love. I have found that more often than not that sharing with people results in "me toos!" and closeness and community and friendship. Sure sometimes it's uncomfortable, vulnerability is... well... vullneerrabblee... but it's so worth it. Beth gets credit for teaching me that sharing one's full gamut of emotions allows others to share theirs and opens up new paths for friendship and depth and holiness.

On a lighter note, Beth taught me how to layer! Ha! Literally. With the first cold snap we had in Virginia Beth found me wearing a t-shirt and a coat. I remember very clearly her saying to me, "Can I ask you a question? Have you ever heard of layering?" And I've survived cold weather ever since. Turns out you can be in the snow and not be cold. Huh, who knew?! Perhaps every Texan needs a friend from upstate New York.

So, Kelly, there you have it. Beth Bojarski wins as the non-relative non-teacher non-obvious-choice for most influential person in my life. Hands down. No contest. No one else even comes close. Unfortunately for Beth the winner of this contest receives a none-expense paid trip to Tejas where they can revel in right-wing hysteria, eat large quantities of beef, and throw away unused paper products just to remind the trees who the boss is around here. I jest, of course... I jest... I'm kidding... a joke... right? *sigh* 

Dear Casey:

Kate Cho from Pearland asks:
Question: If we met this year, would you be my friend? Don't answer that!

Kate,
First of all Mrs. Cho, what you've just said is one of the most insanely idiotic things I have ever heard. At no point in your rambling, incoherent response were you even close to anything that could be considered a rational thought. Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul.

Second, by saying, "Don't answer that!" you guarantee a long answer. Don't tell me what to do. You know I hate that.

Let's explore what it would be like if we met this year...
If we met right now then chances are one of us would bring up the topics of polar exploration and whether or not grown women should wear t-shirts. We would both be drinking a Diet Coke and talking about how we should really quit the stuff. We'd talk about how we just discovered GWTW and how many times we've read HP. We'd argue over whether it's better to be in Gryfindor or Slytherin.

I would comment on how your compost pile looks a lot like Marjory the Trash Heap and you would laughingly agree. You'd tell me about your plans for a bee hotel, and we'd obsess over the fact that there are people in this world who buy paper products besides toilet paper only to throw them away.

Chances are one of us would suggest Taco Bell for lunch and the other would say, "I can’t go to Taco Bell; I’m on an all-carb diet. How about McDonalds so the kids can go in the playplace?" Then we'd sit at McDonalds and eat fries and drink more dc and talk about how much fun it is to go to the beach and how someone could ever choose to live somewhere landlocked (saying the word "landlocked" as though its a cuss word). We would have already learned that we are both Episcopalian because somehow you discover that about someone within moments of meeting. Based on that fact alone we would have discovered at least eight people we know in common two of which being our relatives.

A mutual love for Tina Fey and Christian Bale and Kermit would carry our conversation through the lunch hour. Because the kids are busy playing and we've got nothing else to do that afternoon we'd splurge on iced coffees laughing about how they'll keep us up into the wee hours working on craft projects and watching The Goodbye Girl. We'd talk about how weird it was that we watched that movie so much as children. "Your parents let you watch that too?!?! Were you also allowed to eat macaroni and cupcakes for breakfast? Wait? What?! Me too!" Then we'd talk about what craft projects we've been working on lately.

After lunch you would invite me to join a book club or some sort of women's group you are currently involved with. I'd smile and say, "Sure. Maybe..." all the while wondering why someone so obviously weird and nothing like me wants to be my best friend forever...

 

I would in turn invite you to lift weights or to drink scotch on my patio or be facebook friends. We would stare at one another smiling and thinking, "I picked up a weirdo." Finally you would break the silence and say, "Nobody knows anything, Joe. We'll take this leap, and we'll see. We'll jump, and we'll see. That's life, right?" and we'd be BFF forever and I'd move into the house next door to you. 

The One-Woman Wolfpack

We went to our first mom's group/ play group this morning. First time ever.

Ever.

I've never joined a playgroup. I'm just not that social. Plus, I've never been the type of mother who is looking for things to do. We've always seemed to have a lot of things to do. Plus, plus, I barely find time to get together with my current friends - much less make time to find new ones. That sounds terrible but you all know what I'm talking about.

Or you don't. And perhaps you are the one who needs to join an activity group.

Anyway, some of the moms in our neighborhood decided to start getting together and I randomly joined the group thinking it would be nice to know some people who live nearby.

All in all it was a good morning. Not a "Fantastic - the kids I have a great new group of friends and we all painted each other's fingernails and ate bon-bons!" kind of morning - but a good morning overall. We all met up at a nearby playground. Carolena and Nils had a great time, of course, but they also had a great time in Home Depot yesterday soo... yeahh...

Actually, Home Depot is fantastic in my opinion so that is a terrible example.

Okay, back to the playgroup... Carolena and one other girl were the oldest by far (by far? they're only 4ish...) but still had a good time. Nils was a wildman and was happy to have two boys around his age to pal around with. I had a good time but am always a little tentative when meeting other stay home moms. We all know my fear is not that people won't like me. I don't care if people don't like me. My fear is that someone will like me and then be a stage five clinger. I'm more of a lone wolf. A one woman wolf pack.

Despite the agreement to get together every Monday morning (every Monday morning?!?!) and some weekends (uh... nope... no weekends) it was hopefully a good decision to join the group. I am pretty sure we've lived in Katy the longest of all the people there and everyone is just looking for a ticket out of the house. I was there once. I get it.

Also, full disclosure: I'm fighting a migraine today so I probably would have had a much better attitude sans pounding head. Sigh, of course I used my last Imitrex yesterday and Kroger doesn't keep them in stock. Why? Why Kroger?! They order it in when I need it. Seriously. Seriously?! Overall though migraines are going well. Nils is waking up. I'm just going to hit "post" and hope there aren't too many grammatical errors in this post. I joined a mom's group. That's all.