Obsessive? Me? Nooooooo

I was brushing my teeth this morning when a tune popped into my head that I'm not sure is even real and I had no idea why. It was one of those can't get it out things. It just suddenly showed up and wouldn't stop. Then I suddenly realized I had been brushing my teeth in a jig bowing pattern. So I stopped and it went away. I do remember once doing scales in my sleep with my left hand and waking up giggling about it. I wonder if I knit in my sleep.

Rosin on My Contact Lens

Everthang looks fresh as a Carolahna pahn forst!

Welcome Back My Cheeky Wee Monkeys!

Where's the Crack?

That's the title of an Irish Fiddle book. I have no idea what it's supposed to mean, but it's a perfect example of immigrants not knowing the language. The proper way to say it is "Where da crack at?" I think dealers should follow the example of Pat's Steaks and not sell it unless they can ask for it properly. Then they can explain why it is the title of a collection of Irish fiddle tunes. I really need to know.

Die Berroco, DIE!!!!!!!!!!!

The pattern is labeled "very easy" yet it wants me to take 146 stitches, and decrease by 54, evenly spaced across the row. Hello, I'd have to decrease every two and a half stitches! You can't do that! So now I have to take the whole thing to the yarn shop and hope that some of the more knowlegable people there can figure it out for me, otherwise I'll have thirty dollars worth of purpley-blue yarn barf and a very disappointed little girl. And a conniption. I wanted to finish it this week. AAAAAGHH!!!

My Mantra for This Morning...

"Frogging builds character"

Lesson learned: Do not knit late at night while watching a man who shakes your maracas. I was so close to the last buttonhole row. Ah well. Frogging builds character. Frogging builds character. Frogging builds character...

Who da Man????

Ben and Jerry da man!

HELL'S YEAH!

Not to Be Outdone...

Men are so competitive, aren't they? Especially when it comes to entertaining me during times of crap. I don't know how my husband is going to top these attempts. I'm looking forward to finding out. In any case, Craig and Hugh are both nominated for an Emmy award in the host category. What's a harem mistress to do? I wish I could remember what Sir and M'am did when Marsha and Greg ran against each other. Didn't they both lose? Tragic. Craig has worked his way up the harem ranks very quickly. He attributes it to several days on cold medication, but I think he needs to give himself more credit. I think he's been sneaking off with some of my jokes and using them on his show, actually. Hmm. See, this is why I need a nanny. My kids would never do such a thing. Not without paying me, anyway.

Hanging in

Life sucks right now. When you go to the doc and the nurse looks alarmed and the doc keeps exclaiming and saying how bad he feels for you, you know you're miserable. My daughter isn't any better. She's dehydrated and might have to have IV fluids. The pain in her abdomen is not better. Even though that's typical of Coxsackie, they ruled out appendicitis as well. I managed to get a popsicle and a half into her so she hasn't throw up her medicine. I hope it actually gets absorbed instead of sitting there until it comes back up hours from now. I left a desperate message on my husband's voice mail, but all that will do is make him upset. It won't help anybody. I guess I shouldn't have done that. I have desperate moments.

At least I'm breathing a bit easier than I was yesterday. I have bronchitis on the verge of pneumonia. I'm taking a really good antiboitic that gets right in the first day and I'm also taking methylprednisolone, which is a steroid that you take a massive dose of and then taper it off for the rest of the week. The pills taste like death. I have to dip them in honey not to throw up. My daughter took prednisolone a couple of times when she had severe asthma attacks and pneumonia. Let's just say that when you have the sweetest little girl in the world and she suddenly turns into the Hulk, well, not a good side-effect. I already have a quick and hot temper and am under stress like you wouldn't believe, overworked, short-handed, feeling overwhelmed and not very friendly. The very last thing I need at this time is roid rage. Thank goodness for the two Ben & Jerry pints that Peapod brought yesterday. Assuming I can stomach ice cream, it could save all of us.

I wish I had a movie to watch. I have "The Big Tease" and "King Kong vs. Godzilla" next up from Netflix, but they probably will get here Saturday at the earliest. I do have some interesting Hugh stuff to watch. Maybe I'll do that. It's just I need something the kids will be interested in too, or they'll be a PITA. Ah well. It's going to be a long day. Boring, but not because I won't be busy. Just because it's no fun. If all goes well, I can be bored and overworked at home instead of in the ER. Keep your toes crossed.

Coxsackie

It's a virus. I. Feel. Like. Shit. Only one of my kids has been spared so far. The rest of us are lying around trying not to hurt or puke or whatever, and she's bouncing around "Can we go for a walk? Let's go to the firehouse! Let's get some hotdogs! Can we get our hair cut today? Can we go to the craft store? Let's bake a pie!" Etc. Ugh. I have to figure out how to feed us. Yesterday was pizza. Garbage goes out tonight. I have several phone calls to make but I can't really talk. That should be fun. So. Here I sit. Waiting to be better. Keeping close mental track of everybody's symptoms. I want the happy fairy to just show up at my door with dinner and some anti-viral fairy sparkle dust, and a nanny wouldn't be bad either. Rosie the robot housekeeper would be awesome. Meanwhile, one of my harem boys is doing his best to keep me entertained. What a darling. He cracks me the hell up. And no, I have no idea why this is underlined. It's not even an option. It just feels like it.

Mr. Mojo

That's my husband. I felt it the very moment I met him. Unfortunately, when he leaves, he takes it with him. He's been in LA for about two weeks. When he goes, things break and the kids get sick or injured. Alex had her arm splinted on Wednesday. I have just bought a new vacuum cleaner, new shower curtain rod, mop, and lawnmower. (I will not get into the whole sordid tale of the lawnmower and the Home Depot shuffle, leading me to finally just order it from Amazon and hire someone to mow this week.)

So today he calls me and tells me in a very ominous tone, "we need to talk about something". All within a split second, I think we're getting a divorce, he has cancer, we're declaring bankruptcy, the IRS is sending us to prison. No, it's just that they need him for another week in LA. Okay, so whatever. So I thought that maybe the light bulbs would go out or something. Nope. Instead, I have developed a nasty sore throat. Crap. Well, at least the car is okeedokee so far. Let's hope it stays that way. And the plumbing. And the stove. And the washer and dryer. And the rest of the kids' bodies.

Tomorrow sounds like a good day to do a full moon blessing. Assuming I'm not delieriously febrile and vomiting.

Ranting

Here is a perfect example of how backwards-ass our society is and why raising a child properly is an uphill battle. This is the first paragraph of an AP article entitled "Breast Milk May Help Smallest Preemies".

CHICAGO - The tiniest premature infants fed with breast milk in the hospital did better on tests of mental development later in life than did others fed only formula, a new study has found.

WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!

What it SHOULD say is "The tiniest premature infants fed on formula in the hospital did worse on tests of mental development later in life than did others fed normally, a new study has found."

The title should be "Formula May Harm Smallest Preemies"

Pardon me, but drinking mother's milk is the normal way for ANY baby mammal to eat. Formula is not the normal way to do it. Yes, it's a choice, but let's not let advertising dollars in the media AND in medicine fool us into not knowing that it's an inferior and unnatural choice. If someone wants to make that choice, that's fine with me. But then don't treat me like I'm a freak for doing it the way my babies and I were made to do it.

My kids are not developing beyond what they normally would have because of it. My milk doesn't raise their IQ's higher and make them healthier than formula fed babies. Formula fed babies have lower IQ's and more health problems. My kids are developing the way they normally would. I didn't give them something extra, I just didn't deprive them.

We have lost perspective. Whatever TV says, we believe. It's why our food, water, and air can be LOADED with crap and we don't do anything about it. It's why the wealthiest, most highly developed country in the world has such poorly educated children (and therefore adults) as well as the highest infant mortality rate of any developed nation. It's why two parties run the country and we are helplessly at the mercy of fossil fuels. Not enough people are willing to say "hey, this is wrong." or "Sorry, you suck, you can't have my money".

People. Are. Stupid. Because they want to be. It's easier not to think. It's easier not to do. Believe me, I know. I swim upstream with my children on my back. I hope I'm parting the waters a little for them.