Fabulous Miss S.

Tampering for a good cause

I feel a little violated, wronged, a little sad and very disappointed. 

The Autism Speaks puzzle piece car magnet was stolen off the back of my minivan yesterday.  I noticed it today and felt naked, like I was driving my car around at graduation and I'd forgotten to wear underwear, wait ... that's not it. 

Seriously, folks, I do feel very violated. Magnets do not just, fall off of cars. 

Someone wanted it. 

Did someone want to tell me that they think I'm flashing Autism around like a too-big flag at a car dealership that stands out on windy days. 

Did somebody want to hurt me. 

Did someone want to irritate me, anger me, make me a little crazy. 

Well, congratulations assholes, you may have won a battle but you did not win the war.  You have forgotten who you are up against. 

I feel sad that a person out there wanted to support those who live with Autism and was unable to purchase a magnet on their own to demonstrate support.   If you needed it for your car that badly, I would have gladly handed it over, or the other one that I have.  In fact, this tells me that there are not enough Autism Speaks puzzle piece car magnets out there in the world. 

Evidently, we need to have more of them in the world so that no one has to steal one in order to have one of their very own. 

So here is what I am going to do: 

I am going to click over to www.AutismSpeaks.org and pick up a few, or twenty, of these. And some of these too because I shop a lot.  A few of these too, because Noah loves cars.  And! These.  You can never have too many of them.

I am super proud to say that someones hoggish selfish gesture has turned into a $100 donation to Autism Speaks from me, from my non-family fun money account. Because it is JUST THAT IMPORTANT. 

Now, who wants a wristband and car magnet, I have a few extras on hand.  Leave a comment and email me your address at THESTACY AT GMAIL DOT COM and I will mail it you, shipping is on me too!  I'm so generous today, huh?  Generosity in the spirit of assholes is the best kind there is, right? 

Noah, at the 2010 National Walk for Autism Speaks

 

Half

Last Monday I ran the uber-popular Autism Speaks 5K.  It was crowded, the route was full of kids and families but it didn't matter because my goal was just to finish and get my snazzy t-shirt.  My time was, eh ... it was, ok.  A few months ago I ran a sub-30 minute 5K on a treadmill but outside I get bogged down with navigating the course, talking, if I'm running with a friend, and I just don't pace myself well enough yet.  I also run better with my music, because I lose myself in the beat and it helps me keep a better pace. 

I'm fairly confident that I'll learn all that soon enough and I want to get that super small iPod to clip onto my shirt so my arm isn't heavy with my heartrate monitor watch and my current old-school-style-large ipod armband. 

I probably need a new pair of shoes too.

And, I've been needing a new challenge, something to work for and something to be proud of.  I know I can do a 10K because I ran one in April and I nailed those 6.2 miles in 63 minutes, hells yah baby! 

Let's hope I can double my distance because here's what I've gotten myself into now: Wilson Bridge Half Marathon.  It's October 2.  I have 11 weeks to train. Wish me luck.  I know I'm going to need it.

Beach Trip, Instagram Style

Halt.

Laying flat on my back, trying to catch my breath, trying to hold onto it and slow down its rushing escape I remembered being in that same faux-sunset colored room thirty-one months ago when Noah was nine months old and I was cocooned in postpartum depression. 

Mallory was supposed to have baby gym class, I was supposed to make calls and do insurance papers and file and organize and launder and nurter, but instead, I ended up laying flat on the examining room table, crying, blood pressure cuff on my arm and the other hand gripping my fiery gut. 

My blood pressure, on the second testing was 158/100 -- I know ... I knew it was high from running around with Mallory, being in such pain from whatever was happening in my belly and from the hectic insanity that is my life, but, I wasn't expecting THAT high. 

Scary high. 

Do not return to your car HIGH, go directly to the nearest Emergency Room HIGH.

All I could think about was picking up Noah and getting dinner for the kids and OHMYGOD, Marc can't do that because he has to work and then the doctor came in and I tried to explain to him what I was feeling, the pain, the burning, no not in my esophagus, on my left side, my stomach, under my rib cage a little but it moves when I roll to the side.  Days, hours, comes and goes, probably felt it a few months ago but didn't think much of it.  Took a tums, or seven. Teen. 

Stress.  I just kept saying it over and over but it doens't hang in the air long enough, like a cheap leaky helium balloon that sags to the floor the day after the party but still manages to point upward.  A lot of stress in my life. 

Pervasive stress.

No sleep.

Oh! I ran a 5K yesterday!  See!? I'm healthy!

There is no diagnosis. 

The suspects are severe acid-induced inflammation, ulcer, horrible but unlikely things like pancreas problems and liver issues and a failing gallbladder although that is on the other side of my body from where I'm feeling the stabbing. 

They took some blood.

Now I wait.

It was a bit of a wake up call. I knew this would catch up to me, I just didn't think so soon or in this way.  I just figured I'd get more crows feet from the constant frowning.

I think I need to readjust and reevaluate a little, take more breaths.