To those who ask if I'm having any more children...

I can tell you, without a shadow of a doubt, the answer is officially no.

Why? I'm getting a hysterectomy.

Yup. That's a thing that's happening in my life. My uterus has officially received its eviction notice.

Be warned, if you're uncomfortable with reading posts about a woman's reproductive organs, you may want to stop, but I kind of hope you don't.

Don't worry, I won't be documenting every step of the process. There won't be any selfies of me post surgery on Facebook or videos from the hospital just after my surgery.

But, I do want to share that I am, indeed, getting a hysterectomy.

Here's why...

While I definitely respect the fact that some people are private when it comes to medical issues, I don't share this as a means of fishing for sympathy, or I'm simply telling people as a means to draw attention to myself, but I share this because many women are uncomfortable speaking about issues when it comes to their reproductive system, leaving many women to suffer in silence.

However, I was talking about my issues that prompted getting a hysterectomy when my husband's aunt said something that made me really think. She spoke about how for many years, women weren't allowed to talk about these issues, and many issues would often go undiagnosed because doctors didn't understand what was going on and couldn't offer any ways to treat a woman until it was too late. She also said we should be fortunate we now live in a world where we can talk about these things.

While we've come a long way, we still have a long ways to go.

You may be asking, "Why are you getting a hysterectomy, Kylie?"

I have been diagnosed with a condition called adenomyosis. This Wikipedia link explains what it means. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adenomyosis

I've been doing a lot of research since I've received this diagnosis, and I've read stories of women who suffer from very heavy menstrual bleeding, severe cramps that can become debilitating and the passing of clots during their menses. I am one of the lucky ones compared to some, though.

I do have some of these symptoms, but they have never been to a point where I've been sent to the emergency room. I haven't lost so much blood that I'm anemic. I can pretty much function in life.

However, it does explain a lot of things that have been going on with my body that I pretty much just thought was par for the course, so I never thought to do anything about it. Being a woman sometimes sucks, so I just sucked it up. That's what I do a lot.

It wasn't until I went to a doctor and he questioned me about things which prompted an ultrasound. The ultrasound revealed this diagnosis. This prompted an MRI, which also revealed the same. I will say, however, the most definitive way to make a diagnosis is a pathology report after my uterus is removed.

There are other courses of treatment. I could take birth control pills, get an IUD or some other options until I reach menopause. Menopause for me is probably 13 years away. There's also no guarantee these will work.

I don't want any more children, so considering those other options, I decided a hysterectomy was the best option for me.

Though there are some obvious things I'm pretty excited about, there's a part of me that's a little sad. The days of my uterus functioning as home for a baby are now over. So, why am I a little sad when I know I don't want more children?

Well, I've taken the choice away. After Oct. 17, there's no going back. The uterus was also my kid's first home, and I remember feeling him in my womb for the first time. I'll never feel that again.

Mostly though, I'm actually pretty excited to have this surgery. Any sadness I feel is more of a nostalgia that stirs feelings of melancholy rather than a deep, profound sadness.

I share this so women who are going through things don't have to suffer alone. While I'm not saying you have to broadcast your ailments and maladies on all social media for all to see, there's no reason to suffer in silence.

There's no reason why you should be dismissed because people are uncomfortable talking about the reproductive system because of so-called "polite sensibilities." Knowledge is power, and the more people know, the more people can be a support to others.

Getting older

In a couple weeks, I will be 37 years old. It's not a milestone, nor am I really that old, but I am getting older, and it's safe to say I've entered middle age.

Because I'm getting older, I'm thinking of the old troupe that it's impolite to ask a woman her age. I don't know if that's even the case these days, but women, in particular, seem to be sensitive about their age, and some are often very uncomfortable when you ask how old they are. When I'm curious about how old a woman is, I'm often afraid of asking because I'm afraid they'll be offended.

I'd like to say that needs to stop.

Though I often feel as awkward as a 15-year-old girl in social situations, I also know that I'm not the same person I was when I was 15. I still have a long to work on in my life, but I've come a long way since I was 15.

Every gray hair, the creek of my bones, the slightly painful reminder that it's harder to recover from falling on your tailbone when you slip on surfaces,and the fact that you can't full relate to teenagers anymore, are all signs that I've lived life.

The joy in my son's eyes when he sees me, the happiness I have when my husband comes home from work, the security in owning my own home, the thrill I get when I do well at work, the enjoyment and time I get from spending time with family, are all reminders that I have plenty of life left to live.

So, ladies, when someone asks you how old you are, tell them. Say it loud, and be proud. If you're older, it means you've lived life, and you have life left to live. You have wisdom and life on your side. You're not getting older, you're getting better.

So, you're going to kindergarten. . .

Dear Colin,

This is it, kid. You're about to embark on a new journey. One of new possibilities that I'm not sure you can imagine right now. However, this means this is the first of many times I have to let go of the hand you're always so ready to extend to me to help you lead the way. I know you'll be OK, as you've always been able to face the world without fear. Me, on the other hand, not so much.

You see, Bubs, I'm having a really hard time letting you go. Granted, I've let you go before. I let you go when you were just two months old when I had to go back to work almost six years ago. I had to let you go when you took your first steps and got your first taste of freedom. I had to let you go when you first spent the night away from home.

But, this time, it's different, Colin. You see, I could always call to see how you were doing at nearly every given moment. Granted, I didn't do that, but it was nice to know that I could. Now, it's frowned upon to call the school once a day to see how your son is doing. Nor will I get daily updates from your Aunt Autumn. You know, ones like, "Yeah, your kid just decided he's wearing a cape and he wants to be called Super Colin."

When I was at work, I entrusted you with people who I know would take care of you, love you and help guide you along the way when your father and I were at work. For a working mom, I've been pretty blessed, as there are many others who don't have this privilege. It's one I don't take for granted, and one you should never take for granted. You see, kid, we're really lucky we have family and friends we can count on if we need it. If I do my job right, I hope to show you the value of family, so you know how lucky we truly are. 

It's different now, though. I'm sending you to a world where there are more unknowns, and things will change for you. How they will change, I don't know, and that's the problem. I don't like surprises, but they will inevitably happen. I don't know what it's going to be like, and there's no way I can control the situation. I just have to let it happen and have faith it will be OK.

However, I also realized something. I keep spending my time wondering how this is going to be for me, when in reality, this is about you. You're about to embark on a new journey, one of so many different possibilities. You'll meet new friends, some of which may become lifelong friends. You're beginning a journey where new worlds will be opened up to you with a blink of an eye. Once you learn to read an entire book by yourself, you'll be able to discover and embark on new adventures in your imagination without ever leaving your home. You'll one day learn just how much money you're carrying around in your wallet. I'd tell you, but that's for you to find out at some point. It's more than you think! You'll also learn that 9 p.m. is actually EARLIER than 10 p.m. Yes, this is a lovely trick you like to use on me when you're trying to negotiate your bedtime. There are so many things you've asked about since you've been able to talk that I've tried to explain, but probably failed to do, that will be explained by trained professionals

When I think about that, I'm excited for you. I remember how excited I always was for school. The night before the first day of school, I could never sleep. I was thinking about the next year ahead. There were MANY reasons why I was always excited. I remember, especially as a kid, coming to school and the floors were always so shiny. There were always pencils in the class, and I couldn't wait to get my new books. Yes, kid, I'm a nerd, but it's a title I own and wear proudly. I don't know if you'll be excited or you'll dread school as time goes on, but I just know that tomorrow, this day is your day. Not mine.

No matter how much I want to hold your hand to get on that bus, I have to let you go. It won't be the last, but merely one of many times I'll have to let you go.

The best part, though, is that you got this.


Love,
Mommy

Something to cry about

It was recess time. A time where I, cooped up in a classroom, was free to run and play.

However, the freedom I felt being so confined in a classroom would be short-lived.

I would like at the faces of those near me, and I'd think, "Nobody likes me."

"What did I do wrong?"

 "Why can't I be like everyone else?"

"This person is looking at me funny."







"I'll never be good enough!"

My thoughts would swarm in my head. I sought release in something, somewhere.

It was then the tears would flow freely from my eyes, my thoughts manifesting themselves in a mixture of salt and water.

Echoes of laughter would be heard, but the sounds were very much real. It was the sound of the very children I wanted to like me, laughing at a heartache I didn't know quite how to describe.

"Crylie," they called me, in fits of laughter.

Another day, another recess...

I felt good on this day. I played kickball with my friends.

Suddenly, I see a ball flying toward me. My reflexes weren't quite fast enough. The ball hits me in the head.

I start to cry from pain. I go to help. A teacher says, "Now you finally have something to cry about!"

Pain comes in many forms, but sometimes, both are worth crying about.

Kylie's last minute shopping tips

It's the night before Christmas, and all through the shops.
The people were stewing and just going nuts!

If you're one of those people who started to purchase Christmas gifts in January in preparation, this blog post is not for you. Kindly leave now, and I bid you farewell and a happy holiday.

For the rest of you, the procrastinators, you are MY people. Those people who don't wait, well, we don't understand them. They're all organized and crap. We are not. We're gluttons for punishment.

Well, I have devised a few tips for you to ensure your shopping experience will be as painless as possible, considering you're dealing with a bazillion other crazy people at the worst time of year.

1. GO ALONE! I can't stress this enough. Going with a group or another person will just hold you back. The chances you could destroy a relationship as a result of waiting until the last minute are much higher, so it's best to go alone. You can brave that big, bad jungle known as the mall. I have faith in you.

2. Know EXACTLY what you want! If you're going without a plan or some sort of list, it's just a fruitless exercise. Just think of it as your measly attempt to be organized. If people judge you for that, you can tell them you made a list.

3. Know EXACTLY where you are going. Wandering aimlessly will not produce results. Have specific stores in mind. If you made a list, you'll  know where to go.

4. Pick a time to go where you know you have at least five hours of free time. This will help with the traffic and any other things that may pop up. Don't make any other plans. That will increase stress, making you a cranky mccrankerton.

5. Suck it up and realize you're going to have to deal with traffic. Traffic is crazy. If you're setting out for an outing and you're suddenly surprised at the increased amount of traffic, that's just stupid. Being prepared is half the battle.

6. EAT FIRST! There's nothing better than finding a restaurant or fast food joint that you normally won't go to because nobody else you know likes it. Never shop on an empty stomach, because that seriously increases the irritability levels. While you're on a mission, it doesn't serve you well to be rude. Food will help with this. Trust me.

7. Ignore other people. Unless you're making a purchase, don't make eye contact with other people, hide from acquaintances you see in your travels, just do what you need to do. Chit chat wastes time, and you have no time to waste. Also, dealing with people, looking at other people acting in a stupid manner and other such nonsense will increase your irritability levels.

8. Once your shopping is complete, GO HOME! Do NOT let distractions or shiny things get in your way. COLLECT YOUR TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS AND GET THE HECK OUTTA DODGE!

9. Realize your joy of getting everything purchased in one night will be short-lived, because now you have to wrap it all.


MERRY CHRISTMAS! :D

Maybe it isn't a bad thing to be like me. . .

As my son gets older, people often tell me that he acts like me. In my mind, I immediately seem to think they're saying that as if it's a bad thing, even though that's not it was meant when people say that to me.

It's because I don't value myself enough.

I also look at my son. He's hilarious, smart as a whip, friendly, caring and loving. He's also annoying, stubborn and a bit whiny at times. My kid ain't perfect, but I've yet to meet a person who is.

Then I realized, if people tell my son he's like his mother, it does him no good to have a mother who doesn't think she's worth anything.

I am worth something. Am I channeling Stuart Smalley here? Who cares?

Being like me isn't always a bad thing. Other people don't seem to think so. . . at least the ones who see me as someone who is deserving of value and love.

 Colin, it's not a bad thing to be like your mother. You're mother's pretty awesome. Faults and all. 

Why Grammar Matters

Hey, folks.

I still know this blog exists, but when you write for a living, it seems writing a blog post is the last thing on my mind these days. However, I want to talk about something that I've been thinking about in the last five minutes, so I'm going to write about it while it's still fresh in my mind.

I'm a grammarphile. I loves me a carefully crafted, well-written sentence. I also like using colloquialisms that aren't grammatically correct to illustrate a point.

Thanks to the internet, textual communication is more important than ever before, so I think it's critical people learn the basic concepts of grammar and try to use them as much as possible. Instead, people seem to think grammar is nothing more than what people like to correct to annoy or make someone else feel dumb. While that MAY be the case sometimes, I assure you, it's not always. 

Let me give you an example. A quick search on Google with the search terms "grammatically incorrect Facebook statuses" quickly gave me plenty of examples of poor grammar to show you. I decided to go with this one as an example.

"****** is happy to fnaly be going back to work as started to get board." (Note: This is NOT a Facebook status from anyone on my Friend list; it's just a random status I found through a Google search)

Really? 

That hurts my head. I understand not everyone is a good writer or a good speller, but this person didn't even try. I think that's what bothers me. Not everyone is a good writer. I get that. It's a gift to be able to take a subject in which you know nothing about, study it, research it and turn it into a story for everyone to understand. Some days, I'm ALL of the awesome, some days, not so much. It's like nobody even TRIES to understand the rules of grammar anymore. It's treated like hieroglyphics as opposed to the correct way to communicate through text. 

Appreciating grammar doesn't mean I always use proper grammar 100 percent of the time. In fact, there are times when proper grammar doesn't fit. Phrases that have entered the vernacular aren't always grammatically correct. Songs on the radio aren't always grammatically correct, so just because someone appreciates grammar, it doesn't mean you always have to be grammatically correct in front of me or I will always use grammatically correct sentences when I speak. Trust me, I don't. I tend to forget all rules of grammar when speaking, particularly because I'm socially awkward.

Also, a grammarphile doesn't always get it right. For example, I tend to use the word that when I really want to use the word who. I understand the rule, but it seems to enter my copy at work from time to time. For example, if I used "Kylie is a person that tends to mix up the words that and who," in a sentence, would you correct it? I hope so. After all, I'm a person, not thing, so it should read, "Kylie is a person WHO tends to mix up the words that and who." Despite understanding the rule, I still do it on occasion. It annoys me to see I've done that. I know better, but I still do it. 

Also, while some people ARE being snarky and condescending when they're correcting you, in some settings, when someone corrects your grammar, it's not because they're picking on you. They're correcting you to help you because they know you're smarter than the incorrect thing you just said. Correcting someone isn't personal. . . at least some of the time. See previous post on good times to correct someone's grammar. 

People should just learn to once again appreciate the art of writing and what it does for the world.  Think of the great books you've read or award-winning news stories that have changed the course of history. Behind every good writer is someone else mercilessly using their red pen of doom to correct someone's work to help illustrate a point in a clear, cogent manner. I fear the red pen, but in the end, the red pen makes me a better writer.