Me ... in apposition

We'd been thinking about adopting a cat for quite a while now.  Scratch that - let's be more honest - my five year old has been begging us to get a cat for several months.  Nah - real honesty - I've been wanting a cat for years.  The combined forces of my daughter and I finally reached through to my husband (not opposed to cats, but much more practical than cat-obsessed) and March 17th took my daughter and I to the shelter in the town about a half-hour south of us. See this face?  This is the new member of my family.  This is Evie and she's a year or two old rescue.  Evie is the name she was given at the shelter and I decided that we would just keep it (rather than have my creative child name her Blurblee or Plorkplah or Snarmslag or some other multi-syllabic nonsensical gibberish). We were originally introduced to another cat, but she came over and sat on him so that we would pet her instead.  She would follow us around meowing at us to get us to pet her.  Sh

In previous posts on my blog, I've mentioned Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS). I say that I have EDS but that's not entirely accurate.  I'm still in the process of trying to get a firm diagnosis. My first rheumatologist mentioned my hypermobility and possible related conditions but never followed through with that idea. It took being pregnant and the possibility of my having fatally dangerous heart symptoms for my doctors to pursue what condition I might actually have. My geneticist has ruled out Marfan Syndrome and said at the time that I either have Ehlers-Danlos, Hypermobility Type or Stickler Syndrome. Yesterday (at least it was when I started typing), however, the Ehlers-Danlos Society renamed the Ehlers-Danlos types and other hypermobility conditions and posted new diagnostic criteria for them. Click the picture to go to their website for more info. This classification groups all hypermobility disorders under the heading Hypermobility Spectrum Disorder.  It re

I love me my breakfast food, can you tell? But Rice Krispies is less about breakfast and more about the signature "Snap! Crackle! Pop!" that has been associated with the cereal since the 1920s. Lots of us "bendies" (people with hypermobility syndromes) have noisy joints that snap and pop and, yes, even crackle. I went to the chiropractor today and, as usual, took my 5yo along.  The chiropractor was adjusting my back and several vertebrae popped audibly and I asked my daughter if she heard it. I then called myself a human bowl of Rice Krispies.  I don't just "Snap! Crackle! Pop!" at the chiropractor - I do plenty of it at random at home, too. Like the time I sneezed and dislocated a rib (which deserves it's own blog post). Or how my hips pop all the time. Ooo, and my big toes. I love going to the chiropractor, y'all. Part of the problem with hypermobile joints is that they don't stay aligned where they belong. I subluxate joints at th

I posted on my other blog today: Satisfaction brought it back. Brought back my love of knitting, that is. I am quite satisfied: Read the rest of it here: Satisfaction brought it back

There was a period of time as a kid when my answer to the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" was "A dentist." My mother thought this was a great idea and encouraged it by getting me a Cabbage Patch Kid Dental Unit, like this: (Wow. That ad picture is so early 90s.) I'm SO GLAD I outgrew that phase. Ugh. The idea is so not appealing to me now. But that's where I spent my morning - getting my teeth cleaned.   Fibromyalgia and Ehlers-Danlos mean that getting my teeth cleaned has an extra layer of complication. As important as I know flossing is, it's hard to be motivated to floss when I know my jaw is likely to slip out of alignment and spend time popping every time I try to open my mouth because of TMJ disorder. It's way worse during a cleaning with all the time my mouth has to be open and that can mean a day or two of it being misaligned with the muscles all inflamed. In fact, I took a full dose of anti-inflammatories wi

9am church. This is a really big challenge for me, folks.  9am is not my thing. I'm so glad my kid is 5 now because she's old enough to make her own peanut butter sprinkle sandwiches for breakfast. (Yes, sprinkles. She also eats sliced apples with peanut butter and sprinkles. Today she tried banana with peanut butter and sprinkles. It's totally her idea.) Because I am NOT a morning person, y'all. When I was in college, I wouldn't take classes that started before 10am because I wouldn't be there. Ever. I just can't get myself up and going that early. People like my husband who wake up at 5 or so just stare or roll their eyes when I call 9am early. Seriously, the thought of having to wake up at, like, 7 to get a kid to school is a sizeable factor in my decision to homeschool. (That and I'm an almost credentialed teacher. Might as well put all those education courses to use and teach my own kid.) When we were assigned to 9am church this year, I