Confessions of the Junior High Nature

I like to watch iCarly, Hannah Montana, and Kim Possible....I've even been known to watch the occasional episode of Drake & Josh without my children present. I am sad that there are no new episodes of Kim Possible. I also like High School Musical & High School Musical 2...and am eagerly awaiting the filming of & release of High School Musical 3. I may even take BabyGirl to the theater to watch it. Yeah, that'll be my excuse. BabyGirl wants to see it.

I even have favorite episodes of these shows. We are currently watching the iCarly episode called iHatch Chicks. I lurve it. "Everyone grab a walkie-talkie & find a small chicken!"

I hope you don't think less of me...but I'm pretty sure you do.

Vroom

A question posed. Is a FarmWife really a farm wife without her own set of farm wheels? Husband got his wheels last spring. Big wheels. Green wheels. Manly farm wheels. We paid off said wheels with our tax return this year. Now he's on the hunt for wheels for me. I'm not so good at the driving part of his toy...this one is smaller & has a push button shifter. Plus it's blue. Cute huh? I only wish it came in purple...or pink...or something more feminine. Maybe I can get some floral deals for it. I wonder, can you strap a baby seat on the back? We haven't purchased it yet. The local dealership is supposed to call us when their next order comes in. For the record (just so you don't think I'm a total girly girl who won't know her ATV from the next girl's), it's a Honda FourTrax Recon ES with a 229cc air-cooled OHV longitudinally mounted single-cylinder four-stroke engine (yes, I did cut & paste that from the web site). We'll see.

The love certainly was spread around yesterday! Thank you to all of you who said I make your day. It's nice to be appreciated for all the hard work (i.e. Googling, cutting, and pasting) I do around here.

I finished the baby blanket & burp clothes for my friend's shower last night. I also washed three loads of laundry, folded & put away all the towels, ironed BabyGirl's shirt for school, washed dishes, picked up the house, cooked hassenpfeffer Bar-B-Que for lunch today, gave the boys their "going to see grandma" hair cuts, talked to Art while she packed for her mini-break (see how I did that? Very Bridget Jones I am), and ripped most of my CD's into my computer so I can make a "Thank You, Miss Ragged" CD...all the while listening to Mindy Smith's version of Jolene on repeat in the CD player.

Today I have restocked the pantry (and spent the past 2 hours trying to convince B.B. that he does not have to eat it all today), picked up the last of the baby gift things, perused & purchased the perfect (I hope) Hannah Montana doll for BabyGirl, found "boy lipstick" for my little men, got the oil changed in the van, washed the van (who knew it was maroon under that layer of dusty tan?), visited with Busha & Bucka while they were doing their shopping, bathed the boys, and put Bitsy down for her nap. I really should follow her lead.

Making it all worthwhile.

Yeah me! I've received an award. I feel special. Every girl should feel special on occasion. You see, I make Mrs. Pop's day. I try, really I do. Now I must spread the love...that's how this all works after all.




The rules for the “You Make My Day” award are to re-present it to 10 people whose blogs bring you happiness and inspiration and make you feel happy about blog land. Let them know through email or by posting a comment on their blog so they can pass it on.





And off we go:

1. Art. Must be Art. My dear friend. Where would I be without your whit & wisdom & musical abilities?

2. Hot Mama Sarah. I would be living in my sweats if it weren't for her gentle shove in a more fashionable direction. And she packs...and she was in the Army...

3. The Queen Mother (all hail the Queen Mother). What can I say? The woman gave me life. The least I can do is say I love to read her blog. Besides, she blogs about me occasionally. Who doesn't love that?

4. Mommy to 4 Little People. We are living parallel lives apparently.

5. Yet another Sarah. It's nice to know I'm not alone in this mess called motherhood.

6. Ragged Around the Edges. She's the one who inspired me to blog in the first place. And I got good mail from her today!!


7. My Inkling. Making me think, making me take a closer look, keeping me informed of life in Canada, reminding me of time spent with my favorite red head.


8. The Daring Young Mom on her flying trapeze. Oh how I laugh! And (like Elizabeth Bennett) I dearly love to laugh.

9. Mrs.X. Even when my heart is breaking for her, she gives amazing insight & buffering humor.

10. Emily. I love the dialogue between her & her family.

Please do not think that just because you might not be on my list, I do not stalk your blog for new posts daily. Believe me, if you are writing & in my side bar, nary a post goes by that I do not read. I may not comment on all, but be assured, I am lurking in the shadows.

Now, go...and spread the love!

Uhhhh....

Bitsy finally gave up & dozed off. She's been lazing on my shoulder for the past 20 minutes, hovering somewhere between sweaty sleep & mild curiosity. She was napping in her play pen when I started reading an email to Husband. Apparently she was very interested in the "Rules for Rural Illinois" that her Uncle Little BIL sent me, because her too short nap was quickly over. Since then she's not been able to decide if a nap was worth the effort. I'm glad she finally gave up. I was tired of being sweated on...and my arms were falling asleep.

All my kids are sweaty sleepers, much like their father, but Bitsy is by far the worse. If I fall asleep nursing her in our bed, there will without fail, be a Bitsy shaped wet spot on the sheets when I finally get her back to bed. It's odd.

I have discovered that a best selling children's author has been stalking my son. There's really no other explanation for the book No, David! It was written about B.B. This I do not doubt. He and David are two peas in a very mischievous pod. B.B. brought it to me today to read. We were cuddled together in the recliner when the similarities hit me. He is insistent that his name is not David, but I wonder...

I need to get to work on a blanket for my friend's baby. I have the cutest fabric covered in puppy dogs. It's all washed & ready to go...but I cannot seem to get myself motivated. Time is running out. Her baby shower is Saturday. I'm really looking forward to it. It involves a trip north to the town where Grandma & Grandpa M&M and Aunt Silverbelle & Uncle Greenteeth live. I haven't seen the Grands since their cruise with QM & Daddy in September...and I haven't seen Aunt Silverbelle & Uncle Greenteeth since last June. I'm mildly worried that we'll get snow. Please, No Snow!!

I'm feeling disjointed & practically illiterate today. My apologies. Can too much sweet bread (that's actual bread that is sweet, not 'Sweetbreads' which is the thymus gland of veal) and Inkling's homemade apple butter make your brain rot? If so, I'm done for.

Houston, We have consanants.

Bitsy is discovering her voice. Only this time around instead of screaming for fun, she's trying to talk. A whispered "tah-tah" has turned into a full blown, out loud "Da-Da" in the past 2 days. She's thrown in a few "Gah"s for good measure. None of it is directed at anyone (much to Husband's chagrin), but she's thrilled with her new talent

For me, it's bittersweet. I love to hear my children's voices when they first begin to speak...but I am not ready to give up the sweet baby coos & gurgles.

Contemplations

As I sit & pray for my friend Mrs.X, I'm forced to contemplate my life. She wants so desperately to have a baby. I was once in her shoes. But while she is traveling the road of hormones, injections, IVF, insemination, and the like, I simply cried for 2 years & peed on many, many sticks. We were about to dip our toes into the water of fertility treatments when I broke down & knew I couldn't deal with that route (at least not at that time in my life). I know how blessed we were to get pregnant with no help. I do not take that for granted.

Mrs.X wrote this morning of guarding her heart until you know for certain it is safe to give it in full. At my 6 week check up after BabyGirl's birth my doctor remarked that motherhood agreed with me. "I'm not sure what it is, but you seem so much more relaxed & sure of yourself than you have the past 9 months." I told him that deep down I was never sure everything would be turn out well. Until I held BabyGirl in my arms, heard her cry, felt her fingers curl around mine, smelled her hair, counted her toes, I was worried that she would suddenly be snatched from us.

It wasn't a constant worry. I didn't spend my entire pregnancy fretting, but the thought of miscarriage or prematurity or stillbirth was never fully buried in my mind. We went out & bought a crib before the end of my first trimester. MIL was not happy about it. She lost a baby later in pregnancy & didn't want us to get our hopes up. For me, buying the crib was a leap of faith. I remember telling Inkling that it was hard, but I had to believe we would be bringing this baby home to sleep in it.

We really had no reason to think things wouldn't go well. It was an uneventful pregnancy. There were no complications. But something about the 2 years & 3 months it took to get pregnant had scarred me. It took BabyGirl's birth to rid me of those scars.

I was so shocked to find we were expecting #1 Son. After the length of time it had taken us to get pregnant with BabyGirl, I often thought she would be it. When she was 15 months old & I was unexpectedly pregnant again, I was gobsmacked (just for you Sara). I had settled in my mind that BabyGirl would probably be an only child.

Obviously, I was wrong.

I'm not really sure where I was going with this post. Just thoughts milling about that I needed to put down. I'm praying Mrs.X & her Sweetie can open their hearts soon.

The truth will set him free.

B.B. has an unsettling habit. He lies. He's only three & I am working hard to instill a sense of honesty in him. But the child has a tendency to get into massive trouble frequently. Until recently he gave himself up with great regularity. If a gigantic mess had been made & I asked who made it, he normally said, "I did, Mom!"

In the past few weeks, that has changed. He begins with, "Not me!" or the ever popular, "I don't know." But when asked point blank, eye to eye if he did something he shouldn't have, he crafts an elaborate story. Many times green coyotes have been blamed for the mess in his bed room. For quite a few days he passed the buck to an imaginary friend. There have been tornadoes and stampedes. There have been supervillans & heroes. Last night an inanimate object went shopping.

Husband found the telephone stashed in the refrigerator. He blamed me...yes, you read that right, he thought I did it! The man is seriously lacking in mental prowess sometimes, I tell ya. I insisted that I had put the phone on the kitchen island, not the fridge.

You were the last one to have it. You were talking on the phone while you were making dinner. You stuck it in the fridge!

NO. I. DID. NOT.

Yes you did.

No I didn't! I was making chili & grilled cheese while talking to Princess. I hung up the phone & put it on the island & went back to flip the grilled cheese. I never got in the fridge.

Then how did it get in there?

My guess? B.B. put it there. He's the one with a penchant for putting things in the fridge. (I've opened it MANY times to find Spider-Man staring me in the face...or a pair of socks...or Buzz Lightyear of Starfleet Command...or a note pad & pencil. You can never be sure what he's going to think needs cooling off.)

Come on, just admit you did it!

Argh!!! I did not!!! B.B. Did you put the phone in the fridge?

No. I didn't do it.

Then how did it get in there?

I don't know.

B.B. Look at Mama. Look at my eyes. How did the phone get in the fridge?

It walked in there.

Really? Where did it get feet to walk with?

At the grocery store. Yeah, it went to da store & bought some feet & den it walked & got in da fridge.

Oh dear. Today he and I had a long talk about what lying is if it's a good idea or not. Then I asked him again about the phone. This time he said, "No, I didn't put it in dere. I did dat the other day when it was dark! I didn't do it now!"

Hopefully something has sunk in. Tonight when confronted with misbehavior it only took a gentle reminder to get the truth.

BTW, spell check is working again!! Huzzah!!

Humble Pie leftovers for lunch

Yeah, you remember how I was mouthing about my Husband's inability to bring home exactly what I've put on a shopping list? I should have kept my mouth shut.

We called MIL yesterday to see if she could sit with the older three kids so Husband and I could make a grocery run. She agreed & off we went.

I bought all the groceries & assundry items we needed & we headed home. The trip was uneventful.

As I was making dinner last night (chili & grilled cheese per B.B.'s request) I discovered I had purchased a giant can of whole tomatoes instead of the tomato sauce I meant to buy. Crap. But being the ultra-flexible and completely brilliant woman that I am, I tossed them into the blender, hit "liquify" and voila! Tomato sauce. The Chili was saved.

Now #1 Son won't touch chili or grilled cheese with a 10 foot pole, so I agreed to make him mac & cheese (please don't lecture me about enabling my picky eater. The child will not eat for days at a time if he's not closely watched. I'd rather fix an extra dish at dinner than have him go all Gandhi on me). That's when I discovered I didn't buy any mac & cheese. Oy. I thought I had two more boxes in the pantry, but no. Not a one. I did pick up Shells & Cheese, so I was temporarily saved.

As the drama was unfolding in the kitchen, Husband pipes in from the living room, "If this is what you were going to do, I could have done the shopping on my own." To which I graciously responded, "Yeah, and we'd have 1 can of tomato sauce, spaghetti sauce I cannot stand, and 15 boxes of granola bars."

I really should have kept my mouth shut.

Please Pray hard.

My new friend, Mrs. X has been dealing with infertility for quite a while. She is currently pregnant with the help of IVF. Yesterday she began spotting. Tomorrow she sees her doctor. She is terrified. Please pray for her & her little one.

All hail the Heir to the Throne...and his Mama.

It gives me great pleasure to introduce The Princess...youngest child of the Queen Mother...darling baby sister to yours truly....and most importantly, Mama to my perfect nephew, HT. Please drop by & welcome her to the wonderful world of blogging!!!

For the Record

Read this well. You may never again see it's like. Husband was right. I was wrong. Cherish it. This is the last time.

We were hit with a sleet storm Thursday...you remember, the day I wrestled my screaming daughter out the door for school only to have her sent home an hour & 35 minutes later due to impending ice (that, I must add, didn't hit until 3 and a half hours later). In the end we had almost an inch of sleet. It looks like snow on the hood of Little BIL's truck, but rest assured, these are not pretty little flakes. They are shiny, frozen globes of ice. It was (as QM would say) slick as snot.

Due to the sleet, my trip to town normally occuring on Friday was postponed. It was still icy but melting yesterday. I wasn't ready to brave the roads on my own, so trip to town would have to be a famliy affair (Husband the chaffuer). BabyGirl was even on board...for about 15 minutes. We were waiting for Bitsy to wake up from her nap & in that time things fell apart. BabyGirl decided she didn't want to go to town after all & began haggling for someone to stay home with her. The mutiny quickly spread & soon the boys were chanting, "Let's stay home," along with her.

Then came the clean-your-room-drama followed closely by me bagging up everything left on her floor & stashing it in my room. Not a pleasant 30 minutes to say the least. After this melt down, I was far from in the mood to drag all 4 kids & a sniffling, sick Husband to the grocery store to listen to them fight & bicker & beg for toys & candy while I fought the Saturday afternoon crowd. Husband wanted to go. I did not. He tried more than once to convince me otherwise. I was too irritated to attempt it. The roads were thawing, so I said I'd just wait until today & go on my own. Brilliant plan, right?

Well, it was....until we woke up this morning to this:

There was no warning. We had no clue snow was coming...perhaps because we watched nothing but movies, Nickelodian, and Spike TV yesterday. Should have at least checked the local news.

The snow is still falling. I'm running low on groceries. Husband has offered to make a run to town with a grocery list & his truck. Not to sound ungrateful, but no matter how detailed the list, he never gets quite what I want.

So for the record...for the annuls of history....for posterity I will now admit that Husband was right, we should have gone to town yesterday.

Ahh, sweet love.

Emily asked us about our old boyfriends. I guess I should start at the very beginning. Actual first names will be used at times. Last names will be withheld to protect the innocent.

There was a little blond fellow that lived down the road from Busha & Bucka when I was tiny. Tiny as in 18 months old or so. His name was Jason. He was my Honeyboy. That's what I called him. My Honeyboy. Busha & Bucka lived 2 1/2 hours away from us, so it was a long distance relationship. I also think he was younger than I was...he was only one. Robbing the cradle...litteraly. QM baby sat his sisters when she was in high school/college. We were planning on getting married. I don't remember why we split up. It's sad really.


I met my second love at the bus stop on the first day of Kindergarten. Matt lived down the street from us & we were a couple by the time we got off the bus at school. We played on my swingset after school & on the weekends. His mom baby sat me in the mornings when QM worked at the daycare. He kissed me one day on the bus ride home from school. I slapped him. Oddly enough he didn't break it off. He played ding-dong ditch at my front door & got his ear chewed by my dad. We broke up when we were put in seprate third grade classes. So sad.


Third time was definitely not a charm. His name was Jason too. He was in my class from fourth grade until we moved when I was in 7th grade (which was the end of our relationship...I know, spoiler). We went out from the end of fourth grade on (I think). He played the drums (trash cans with pencil drum sticks) in our lip-sync band at the grade school talent show (we were Bananarama & sang Manic Monday). He was my date to my first ever school dance. We held hands once. He came out of the closet our second year in college.


#4 (Formerly refered to here as Stoffer) was a boy I met through my teen acting group at the local arts guild. He was on the verge of asking me out (we suspected) in April of my freshman year, but instead asked out another girl. I was mildly heartbroken. They dated until the next fall. When they broke up, he & I reunited. I can't exactly say we dated because I wasn't allowed to date until I was 16 & that was a good 7 months later. We went to three proms, numerous dances, & too many movies to count. We broke up a few times, but always reconciled within a few weeks. In all we were together for nearly 3 years. He was my first kiss (on the playground behind the Baptist Church), my first love, and my best friend.

Breaking up with him was the hardest thing I'd ever done to that point. I knew in my heart things would never work out between us & I had no business dragging it on. We stayed friends for a few years, but time & life have come between us. I still think of him fondly (for all you Phantom Fiends out there) and hope he is happy.

After that I was single for a while...until Tom Petty cast his evil spell & Willy waltzed back into my life. He was 2 1/2 years younger than I was. That's not a big deal when you're in your mid to late 20's, but when you're 19 dating a 16 year old, it's just not wise. If he'd have been 2 1/2 years older than me, maybe things would have been different...but I'd rather not dwell on that. I can sum up our problems in a nut shell. He only wanted what he couldn't have. When I agreed to go out with him, things were OK for a few months. Then he got bored, restless, unhappy. We would break-up & I would suddenly become much more attractive, the love of his life, the center of his universe. I was young, stupid, and obsessed, so I kept letting him back in.

After 18 months of drama I decided I'd had enough & left. By left, I mean LEFT. I moved to Illinois to live with Uncle Gick & Unkie Di. It still took me about 6 months to wash my hands of Willy, and even then I was stupid enough to agree to be friends with him.

Then I met FarmBoy. That changed everything. He treated me with respect. He loved me unconditionally. He was good to me. That's when I snapped out of it and realized just what Willy was. As soon as Willy realized I was happy with someone else, he started trying to worm his way back in to my life. I told him in no uncertain terms that he had no place in it. It was liberating & opened me up to trust & love my FarmBoy as much as he did me.

Eight months to the day after he asked me out, Bucka married us. That was 10 years ago.

And there you have it. The many loves of FarmWife.

FarmWife's Third Annual Virtual Tea Party

It's that time of year again. Tea time. Yes, folks, it is indeed time for FarmWifes third annual virtual tea party. I cannot believe two full years have passed since I began hosting this event. I know you have looked forward to it all year with great anticipation. I hope you have washed & pressed your best frock & aired your favorite bonnet. I have the bone china set out & the kettle's on. Crumpets are warm and the jam is homemade.

As in years past, I will offer up a list of 6 questions to begin the conversation. Answer as you like, the more the merrier, and enjoy a cup of the hot beverage of your choice.

#1. Please, introduce yourself & tell us where you are from (blogwise) and how you came to our party. I am your hostess, FarmWife (formerly known as CityGal, but only briefly). I live here & welcome you all. "I shake you firmly by the hand." -Charlie & the Chocolate Factory

#2. Given your choice of dream vacation, where would you go? Right now I'd like to spend a week on a quiet beach somewhere warm. Sipping frosty drinks in a rainbow of pastel colors, wearing big sunglasses, sundresses, and large floppy hats, listening to the surf & my favorite music, and chatting the day away with a few rarely seen friends.

#3. Since I have spent my entire week cleaning the house in preparation of your visit, tell me, what is your least favorite chore? At this point I'd have to say dusting. I cannot seem to get anywere with it. As soon as a surface is clean, it begins gathering dust again. It's a vicious cycle.

#4. Seen any good movies lately? Why yes, as a matter of fact I have. Last night I watched Across the Universe & loved it. Its beautiful & moving & I can dance to it.

#5. You just won a gold fish at the fair. What will you name it? Because of my current obsession with the song, his name will be Jude.

#6. If you could write your own epitath for your grave marker, what would it say? Really, why did I ask this question? I can't answer it. Generically it would say, "Beloved wife & mother." But I'd like to be remembered for more than that....not that I'm belittling what I am. Those are the two things that most define me at the moment & the most important jobs I have, but I'd like to think my reach stretches farther than my children & my husband. Boy, now that's a can of worms...and a little deep for a tea party. Sorry.

I'm sorry folks, but I'd better wrap this tea party up quickly. There's an ice storm heading our way & my children are being sent home from school early. Really, what's the point in making them come to school if you're going to send them home 1 hour & 35 minutes later?

See, I told you so.

B.B. sat down to eat his Golden Puffs this morning (is it my imagination, or were they called Sugar Crisp when we were kids?). He quickly informed me that his cereal was saying 'Poop' to him. If Rice Krispies say 'snap, crackle, pop' why can't other cereals talk? I just whish they wouldn't be so obscene.

toilet humor = breakfast cereal?!

What's grosser than gross?

I'm beginning to think B.B. has a rare condition known as Fecalphelia. He began developing symptoms at a very young age. The first & most traumatizing incident took place when he was about 9 months old. He was in the tub with his older brother. I turned around long enough to get the baby wash out of the cabinet. When I came back to the tub, I noticed B.B. trying to eat something. I quickly pried the object away from him, only to discover it was poo. His brother's poo. (Yes, at the time I could easily differentiate between the boys' poos.)

The summer after he turned 1, he was toddling happily along in the yard when he tried to sample some chicken poo. Can I just say, that was almost worse than him trying to eat #1 Son's poo? Chickens are dirty creatures.

Then there was the Wal-Mart incident that involved what should be praise & worship music. Putting the word Poop into the song Awesome God borders on sacrelige.

Last night Bitsy was fussing at him to play with her, so I told B.B. to sing the Jonah song to her since it's his new favorite. He replied, "I tant sing dat song to her, Mommy. Everytime I sing it it gets poop in it." What do you mean, B.B.? "I hava sing da word 'poop' in dat song, so I tan't sing it now."

This morning he was eating the last of a bowl of grapes when he pulled out a rotten one. "Mom, what is dis? Is dis grape poop?"

I'm beginning to wonder if his facination with poop may be causing his compulsion to pile things up. It could be all a metaphor...you know...cow piles...manure...piles of toys...OK, so it's a stretch, but it seems feasable to me.

(This is the pile he made this morning while I was IMing Mommy to 4 Little People.)

This all leads me to wonder if the whole handfull of poop thing that won me a sponge & Target gift card was part of his grand scheme. Is he attempting to infect the rest of us with his illness? Are we to become a family full of Fecalpheliacs? Is the call of "someone come wipe my butt" going to suddenly stop being met with a cringe & shout of "wipe your own butt, you're three years old!"? Will I begin to embrace the mess that is Bitsy?

And speaking of Bitsy's messes, I changed her diaper this weekend only to find a well chewed piece of playing card thing (from a Happy Meal the kids got at Christmas). Oh yes, it had passed all the way through.

Maybe it's not B.B. that has the problem. Maybe it's me. Seriously, search the words 'poo' or 'poop' in this blog & see what you get (or just click the links...I did the work for you). When did this blog become devoted to poop? Why didn't you all warn me? This is bad.

But if it is B.B.'s problem, do I need to start him a blog of his own solely devoted to poo? BabyGirl has hers...could B.B.'s issues help another family work through their own poop problems?

To any of you who may be new here, especially anyone Kork gave my blog address to at Church this weekend, I'll really try to clean up my act. I sincerely apologize. I don't know what's come over me.

We are family...I've got all my stick figures & me.

I love, love, love these things. They are so cute! And today I found a website where you can customize your own & order them on a sticker for your car window. I tried putting all our animals on it, but we'd have needed a Jumbo Jet windshield to stick it to. Have fun!

Tell me something I don't know.

You Will Not Be a Cool Parent

And that's pretty okay. While your kids may not think of you as a friend, they will respect you. You know that kids need discipline and structure, and you're not afraid to give it to them. Just be careful that your strictness doesn't lead to rebellion. It's good to have standards and rules, but you don't need to have an iron fist when enforcing them.

Would You Be a Cool Parent?

I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. Warhol

Who Should Paint You: Andy Warhol

You've got an interested edge that would be reflected in any portrait You don't need any fancy paint techniques to stand out from the crowd!

What Artist Should Paint Your Portrait?

I'm a-musing.

Your Inner Muse is Thalia

You are most like this playful muse of comedy. Life is all about laughter to you, and you're a natural comic. You make people laugh until their sides split. And you're always up for some play time!

What Muse Are You?

Beware my awesome powers

You Are Jean Grey

Although your fate is often unknown, you always seem to survive (even after death). Your mind is your greatest weapon, literally! Powers: telepathy and telekinesis, the ability to project thoughts into the mind of others, communication with animals

Which of the X-Men Are You?

What the heck is Dosha?

Your Dosha is Vata

Creative and restless, you take in all of life's pleasures (maybe a little too much!). You're quick witted and very talkative, but you also tend to have a spotty memory. You tend to get very into ideas, people, and lifestyles... but only for a short time. It's difficult to hold your attention, and you sometimes feel with what life has to offer. With friends: You are very uncomfortable in new situations or with new people In love: You fall in and out of love

Seriously?!

Look closely. In the picture you may find a baby sleeper, a burp cloth, a lingere bag, a small bath towel, a bath sheet, two bath robes, a bath mat, a toilet training seat, all the tub toys my kids own, a geography coloring book, and the step stool. All courtesy of B.B.

Oh, and the boys were in the tub with all this. Oh yes, I was an unhappy mother. A screaming banshee of a mother. A "What. Were. You. Thinking?" mother. An "On what planet is this acceptable?" mother. A "Why exactly did you not call me when your brother began to pile everything not nailed down into the tub of water?" mother.

This after the screaming/clawing fight BabyGirl & #1 Son had over her new exercise ball while I was trying to talk to the OT on the phone this afternoon. For the first time when I heard my children scream, "He/She's trying to kill me!" I believed them.

And can I mention that B.B. will not stay out of Bitsy's play pen tonight?

Forget Calgon....Jose Cuervo, take me away.

I am a bad mom. I've already started stealing my kids' valentine candy. Well, what do you expect? This is what I got for V-day:

And that's only because the old door knob broke today when Husband tried to come in the house. No, I didn't lock him out. What ever gave you that idea?

Take it or leave it

Wishing you the happiest of Valentine's Days...unless of course you despise all things Valentines. In that case, wishing you through this day relatively unscathed.

Give me a wish to build a dream on.

Inkling was tagged earlier this week/late last week. I decided to play along, but got side tracked. It's an interesting format & is currently keeping me from unleashing the beast upon my children who are once again snow bound & testy.

So, here's the deal: post 5 material wishes & 5 spiritual/deeper wishes. And so with little fore thought, here we go:

Material Wishes:

1. A playroom with lots & lots of shelves. Heck, lets roll the entire house into this...what I really want is a serious Organizational overhaul for my entire house. I'm overwhelmed at the thought of this. I have junk drawers & junk cabinets & junk boxes tucked away under junk beds. Junk closets with junk shelves & things living in odd places. I suspect my house eats things...like toys, books, stationary, baby sunglasses. I need Ikea (or whoever those people are) to come in and organize my home so my inner Martha can go back to sleep & stop bugging me at 3 am.

2. A new truck for my husband. The Goatmobile is limping along pathetically. I worry that he'll be hiking down the highway at 3 am (as I lie in bed worring over the state of our closets).

3. Very sturdy bunk beds for my children. 'Nuff said.

4. A guest house. This is a big one. I know, but these are wishes. A little cabin with a kitchenette/living room, a bed room & bathroom so we can have guests. Husband doesn't deal well with overnight guests (it stems from his upbringing), but I love having company. We need a Daudi haus (an Amish mother-in-law suite).

5. A beautiful Mid-century inspired livingroom set. OK, so once my children are grown & I don't have to spend my time telling them to quit jumping on the furniture. And I need floor to ceiling book shelves to deal with my ever-expanding book collection.

Spritual/Deeper Wishes:

1. A girlfriend who lives in my area. I'm not sure you'd call this spiritual, but it is a little deeper than my desire for a new sofa. Yes, I do have friends & there are some near me, but I really don't have anyone I can call up & go hang out with on a regular basis. I think this stemms more from my tendancy to be shy than a lack of real opportunity. I need to get out of my shell...out of my comfort zone. It's also a tad hard to get away with Husband working evenings & 4 kids to keep track of. Maybe I'll just wish that Art would migrate North. That would so totally rock!!

2. Patience. Loads & Loads of patience. And hand in hand with patience, I need creativity. That's the thing that terrifies me about the prospect of home schooling. I am not terribly patient, I am not gifted in teaching, and I think I would run out of ideas in about three days.

3. Self-control. I am lazy. I am self-centered. I need a kick in the pants most days to get anything accomplished. This is not good. What I really want is a desire to be that Woman from Proverbs who's more precious than rubies. That is a real wonder woman & I want to be her...but oh, the work!!

4. A closer relationship with my husband. I adore him. We are well paired. We get along well. But there are times (many times) when I feel like we're just plugging along. We spend most of our times dealing with things & not being with each other. We need alone time that does not include a trip to the store.

5. I want my first love back. I want to get back to a place where God is my primary focus. I want the desire to spend time in the Word & in prayer. I want a meaningful relationship with the Lord. I don't want to feel like prayer and devotionals are just more chores to add to my list.

Feel free to play along. Leave me a comment & let me know if you do.

Bitsy, DDS

As BabyGirl's bedtime routine has become rather involved lately, most nights (if Bitsy is still awake), I put the play pen in front of the TV, put in the Baby Einstein Lullaby DVD, and plop Bitsy in with a few toys. Then BabyGirl & I curl up with a book, read, cuddle, and end our day.

Tonight as I was getting the DVD ready, BabyGirl was entertaining her sister. Suddenly she yelled help then began screaming. I turned around to find BabyGirl with a mouth full of blood & a very dangly tooth. The tooth's been loose, but wasn't quite ready to come out. Apparently Bitsy disagreed because she nearly pulled it out!

A traumatized BabyGirl finished the task, but was not happy about it. I hope the gold dollar tucked inside her tooth fairy pillow will make up for it.

Randomness in pictures & post

For Emily who says baby bellies are cute. She's right. You just can't help but kiss them!

Snow Day!! Or rather, thin but slick crusting of ice day...one way or the other, I have 4 kids home with me today & Husband had to leave for work 30 minutes early to get there in time. Heaven forbid C**** think of the safety of their employees before they worry about their profits. I need chocolate...the good kind.

Good news at BabyGirl's world. You can read for yourself. And the picture of my toes is from the night before we went to the hospital to have Bitsy. I once read that the least you could do for your OB was take care of your feet since they were the second part of the body he had to see the most. Those were the only tan lines I managed to get this summer. My belly kept the rest of my legs out of the sun. It had an SPF of around 1,300.

Last night I was fighting to keep B.B. in bed. He'd gotten out of bed for the third time when I caught him in the hall way. I was not happy. I swooped in to catch him when he hollered at me. Normally he would have yelled, "I need a dwink!" or "I hava go to da potty!" or "Dere's coyotes in my room!" and waited for me to reassure him, or take him to the bathroom, or get him a drink. Instead he yelled, "Fire twucks & fire guys!" and shot back to his bed. Hmm....

Oh, I hope we aren't snowed in on Valentimes day (yes, I know how I spelled that. I love Junie B. Jones). Not that I'll get a Valentine...will you be my Valentine? Please? But BabyGirl has missed every party they've had at school thus far. Hallowene, Christmas, 100 day...she was probably sick on Yom Kippur too.

Speaking of which: at work last week Husband's co-worker said he was giving up caffeine for Lent. To which my husband replied, "I didn't know you were Jewish." Seriously, Ya'll.

The kids are watching the first season of Fraggle Rock. Something is seriously wrong with my husband (news flash, right?). He doesn't like the Muppets. I worry about him. He may be a communist. Do you know he'd never seen Star Wars until we were dating? The deprivation. Sad really. (The old hay rake & plow that set in front of my house. I'm ready to see green again.)

I have a quick observation to make about the Olsen Twins. They are worth what, a billion dollars? Can they not dip into their trust funds to buy a hair brush & some eye make-up remover? They're looking a tad homeless lately. It worries me. But then, at least they wear panties...I think.

I'm considering an inverted bob. I'm tired of the current thing & have the desire to move on before I end up shaving it all off. That's never a good thing. What do you think? A little less Posh Spice & a little more middle America.

Husband bought the kids a trampoline a few weeks ago. You know, one of those little ones you're supposed to jog on. Yesterday #1 Son was jumping like his life depended on it when I heard B.B. scream, "Help, Mommy!! Help me!" I couldn't find him anywhere. #1 Son kept jumping and started laughing. B.B. kept screaming. That's when I realized....he was under the trampoline. Oy.

The wonderful world of poo.

Bitsy has discovered & embraced the world of food. Yeah, at 7 months I though she was just going to stick to the breast until pre-k, but luckily she's developed a taste for sweet potatoes. This also means her diapers have gotten NASTY! Nasty as in last night when I felt a wet spot on the leg of her jeans. It quickly turned into me yelling, "Husband, Help!! Oh, this is nasty. Oh, Bitsy, how did you manage this? Gross!! Ewww! Forget it, just throw that sock in the trash. No, I'll hold her, you spray the water down her back. Did you rinse out her onesie? Forget the wipes, I'll just bathe her. Eww. Now I have to bleach out the sink!"

It was lovely.

Valentimes & Tree Houses.

B.B.'s new favorite phrase: That's It!!
Usually followed by: Now you give me an Oreo!!
I'm tired of living with Sonny Corleone.

Last week we were filling out BabyGirl & #1 Son's Valentines to give away at school this week. B.B. gets very upset if he's left out of the school prep for holidays. I told him he could use the leftover cards to give to people if he wants. When the time came, I asked who he wanted to give them to (expecting him to name cousins or friends from church) & he said, "Christian & Lola at my school."

Now, you should know B.B. has a very vivid imagination that includes a school of his very own in Tennesse. His teacher used to be Miss G. (#1 Son's teacher), but she has recently been replaced by a new bad teacher that never gives him candy or toys. Miss Art goes to his school along with oddly named children he deems worthy. So when he mentioned Lola, I immediately knew it was Lola from the books & series Charlie & Lola. The Christian had me a little confused as we do know a few Christians. So I asked him who Christian was. "Him goes a my school & him lives in a tree. I'm gonna' send he a Valentime to him's tree house." And just how do you address that card?

BTW, what is this, week 2 of the Spell Checker Strike? Thanks Pilot/Ramblin'.

BabyGirl's World

Good news at last! Things are moving forward.

I'm off to make a baby blanket, for burp cloths, and a card for a baby shower tomorrow. Nothing like waiting until the last minute.

Hope you all have a rockin' weekend!

Our Prophet

This only looks like a map of Illinois. In actuality, it is a message from the Lord. Just ask B.B. He'll tell you.

The Queen Mother opens a can of worms

You know, the Queen Mother (All Hail the Queen Mother) brings up an interesting point. While I was blaming Tom Petty for all the evils in my life, she was thanking him for my current life. Had it not been for Willy, I'd have never moved back to Illinois. Had I not moved back to Illinios, I'd have never met FarmBoy & the FarmHands wouldn't be here. In fact, the thought of where I'd be now is kind of mind boggling. I have no clue...I was drifting about rather aimlessly until I met FarmBoy.



So the biggest regret in my life may be directly responsible for the greatest joy of my life. This opens up an entire can of worms...What's your biggest regret? If you could do it all over again, knowing what you know now, would you change anything? Art & I have discussed this repeatedly. If we could go back to the Love Shack, things would be much cleaner...we would have money...we would not be near as stupid as we were 12 years ago. But then we aren't the same people we were 12 years ago.



And to my mother, you could try playing Tom Petty & the Heartbreaker's Greatest Hits when ever Bubba & Princess are in the house. It might help.

Tom Petty is the Antichrist

I lurve me some Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. Really, I do. But I think somewhere along the lines, they may have sold their souls to the devil. It's the only thing that makes any sense at this point. Tom Petty can be directly blamed for the Patriot's loss at the Super Bowl on Sunday.

We discovered, years ago, that Tom Petty music was a bad omen. It all began when I came home from college for Christmas break. Art & Did accosted me the first night I was home. They had made elaborate plans to take me out for my birthday (side note: my birthday is in May, not December). They came bearing gifts, dressed me up, and swept me off into the night. The plans included visiting local eataries & telling the server it was my birthday so we could gourge on free desert. Our night even had a theme song: You Don't Know How it Feels. We drove around town listening to the single (on casette...the B side was Girl on LSD) & singing at the top of our lungs. We made it to Ruby Tuesdays & then headed out of town when Art's car (a Toyota Corrola named 'Olla) overheated trapping us in town for the night.

Instead Art & Did decided to take me to Willy's house. Willy was a young man who'd been a friend of ours in high school. There had been a falling out between us the night of the infamous OJ Simpson car chase that resulted in Did's boyfriend, Roleg, getting arrested. I hadn't talked to Willy since. Art & Did assured me that all was well with him & it was safe to visit. Long story short....Willy & I reunited & dated for about 18 months. 18 horrible, deranged, stupid like a rock months that resulted in me having to move out of state. And it's all Tom Petty's fault!

Just over a year later, Art, Did & I made a trip back to my college to visit a friend of mine who was about to leave for 6 months in Indonesia. In my brilliance I decided to surprise him. Unfortunately that meant we drove 8 hours, 240 miles in a small snow storm to see him for about 20 minutes.

The friends we were supposed to bunk in with decided to have a Dungeons & Dragons all nighter leaving us no where to sleep...especially since one of the "gamers" was Art's ex-boyfriend. Not a pretty thing. So we dug into our dwindling funds & rented a circa 1972 hotel room from a very concerned old Chineese man who repeatedly said, "You have party? You no have party in room. We no want party here. You have party? You no have party in room. No loud music. No party," no matter how many times we told him we just wanted a place to sleep.

Having nothing to do in the tiny college town, the next night, Did decided we should go to St.Louis instead. We drove the 2+ hours & got there at about 3 in the morning. We were driving through a rather bad neighborhood (and arguing about whether it was a dangerous place to be. I kept insiting Did turn the car around & she kept saying, "This isn't a bad neighborhood. Look at the beautiful architecture!" I said I didn't care about the architecture, I cared about the hookers on the corner fighting with their pimp & the guy shooting up under the street lamp), when we were stopped by a fire truck. I kid you not. They pulled up next to us & motioned for us to roll down the window. The fireman looked at the three, obviously lost girls in a car covered in sparkly daisy stickers with 0ut-of-state plates & said, "Are you lost?" I yelled Yes! as Did was saying No. The fireman said, "Turn your car around right now & get back on the interstate." Did said, "We're just looking for a hotel." He said, "Turn this car around RIGHT NOW and get back on the interstate!"

When we finally made it back a hotel, Did said she was going to go in and get a room. I asked where she got the money (as at this point we all only had enough for food & gas to get home). She said, "You have the money." That was our emergency fund...in other words, my bill money for the rest of the month. I said that's not what it was for, so she got back in the car & we drove the 350 miles home in comparitive silence. It was the worst trip ever.

What does that have to do with Tom Petty? The theme song for that trip was Into the Great Wide Open.

Finally there was the night Art & I were taking visiting friends to Nashville to the Underground to go dancing. We spent all afternoon getting ready (including SP-Art's now ex-husband- who felt the need to wear not only eyeliner & an obscene shirt, but also an ankle lenght plaid skirt), loaded the car to capacity, and hit the road. We got as far as the north side of town when the car broke down & we ended up walking for help...the motley crew we were. That night also started out with Tom Petty.

Sunday I was cheering for the New England Patriots (because Green Bay didn't make it to the Super Bowl...they really need to win one. Those are some seriously hard core fans!). As soon as I found out Tom Petty was playing I knew in my heart there was no way my team would win.

All these problems were not caused by a lack of planning or common sense...they were all caused by the evil powers of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. I do not shudder at the sight of a crow. I shudder at the opening bars of Mary Jane's Last Dance.

My boys

As I was getting on line to write this post, I caught B.B. trying to breastfeed his sister. She wasn't happy about it, but he was insistent that she needed "B.B. bites." He's convinced that drinking milk out of his sippy cup makes milk in his bosoms for him to feed the baby with.

That boy...what can I say about him. He is different. He is his own man. Last night he was Sonny Corleone. It all began with Oreos. He wanted on in the worst way. I was not about to give him one as he was already climbing the walls & dinner time was fast approaching.

It began with bribery. Actually it began with a threat from me. He was hanging from Bitsy's swing (his new favorite past time) when I asked him what would happen if he broke it. "I hava' buy her a new one at da grocery store.....But I don't have no dollars." I told him I'd get the dollars out of his bank (this isn't the first time we've been down this road). So when he wanted an Oreo he told me, "If you give me an Oreo, I'll give you da dollars in my bank." Sorry, Charlie. No Oreo. He considered this a moment, walked to the stove, turned on the oven light and said, "If you don't give me an Oreo, I won't shut dis light off." When that line of extortion didn't work he said, "You give me an Oreo or I kill you." During all this I was on the phone with QM. She said, "You may wake up with a horse's head in your bed tomorrow." (Please, click on that link! It's worth it.) Then he took all the alphabet magnets off the front of our little chest freezer & moved them to the lid. He whipped his head around and said, "There! I'm leavin' deese up here until you give me an Oreo!" Then he stomped out of the room. He did not get an Oreo, and as of yet, I am not dead.

A few minutes later he was back. "I want toast. I want two ones of it wif no cwust. If you don't fix me two ones of toast, I'll 'ptshew' you. (I think that involves shooting webs at me like Spider-Man) I'll get the icing (B.B. speak for cinnamon & sugar)." While I was making his toast he informed me that he will be my boyfriend. I said, "Oh good. Then you'd better give me a kiss." "No. Not now. I'll be your boyfriend in three hours, when Daddy comes home from work."

As he was eating his toast QM said B.B. & HT would make a good pair. B.B. could eat the toast & HT could eat the crust. I told B.B. that & he replied, "HT tan't have my cwust. Him is at him's house." I told him HT's at Grammy & Pa's. "Oh. Aunt Princess likes HT & him is a boy."

When he finished his toast I told him to go wash his hands. "First I hava' lick da icing off dem. When you was a boy and dere was two toastes den you did this too." I told him I've never been a boy, but he disagrees.

As the boys were getting in the tub last night we were discussing little girls in #1 Son's preschool class. There's a Bitsy in his class who's always very interested in what #1 Son is up to. He told me, "She thinks I love her. I don't love her. She's just my friend." Then B.B. piped in, "I'm married to Ariel. Her goes a my school & her has a red tail but her got dead by a car. I'm married to Baby Bitsy too."

Then the conversation turned to Valentines day & the cards #1 Son & BabyGirl have to give their classmates. They've decided to share their cards with each other. That way BabyGirl can give the boys in her class Spider-Man Valentines & #1 Son can give the girls in his class Hannah Montana Valentines. I said that was a good idea & #1 Son wanted to pick out the card he was going to give himself. I told him he was supposed to give the cards to the kids in his class, not keep them for himself. "Well, who's going to give me a black Spider-Man one?" I said I didn't know if he would get one, but someone else would probably give out Spider-Man cards. "But what if someone gives me a girly Valentine?" I tried to explain that most girls gave everyone girly cards. Suddenly he shouted, "That's it! Then I am not going on that day! I am not going because someone might give me a girly Valentine & I don't like girly things, I only like boy-ie things!!"

Oy.

Fact #1

B.B. likes to wear his underpants backwards.

The Great Vacation Debate

We're looking for a vacation site close to home as the idea of traveling long distances with 4 small kids is about as pleasant as having your tooth filled without the aid of novacaine (a feeling I am well familar with believe it or not). Right now Indianpolis is in first place in the running. They have a zoo, a children's museum, & Conner Prairie among the list of things we could see.

We may break this vacation down into two parts as long as we don't have to travel far or spend too many nights in a hotel. Husband & #1 Son began combing the Kentucky vacation guide QM brought us last summer. They discovered Dinosaur World in Cave City, KY. #1 Son was ready to pack his bags & leave last night. It's near Mammoth Cave & Husband really wants to see that. I on the other hand, prefer to keep my family vacations above ground. I'm sure it would be very interesting, but I'm not sure I'd handle the idea of my entire family being a mile under ground. QM says she'll get me a Lands End head lamp to wear.

Husband said we should call QM & Daddy to see if they want to meet us there since it's only about 2 hours from their house. We let #1 Son call since his dad told him this could be his birthday present. He was over the moon! He called his Grammy & said, "Grammy, we are going to Dinosaur World for my birthday. Can you and Pa come with us? We are all going to go. Mommy, and Daddy, and Me, and B.B., and BabyGirl, and Bitsy are all going. Can you come with us? Me and Daddy and B.B. and Pa can go just the boys to Dinosar World and You and Mommy and BabyGirl and Bitsy can go to the mall! Can you come?"

Husband said if I'm still not keen on the idea of going to the caves he & Pa can take the boys to see them while QM & I take the girls do something else. That's when BabyGirl yelled, "I want to go to a knitting museum!" She was on a knitting kick last night. We may have to have Needlefingers come teach her how to knit.

I'm not sure we'll find a knitting museum & I'm a little worried that we're planning a vacation full of Grinders Switches & Freshwater Pearl Museums (I'll leave that to QM to explain).

No accounting for taste

As you may have noticed from past posts, I do not drive in snow. Luckily we're not planning on moving to Canada...or Michigan anytime soon, so for the most part this works out for me. Until I have to take a child to the ER or run to the grocery. Then I must enlist a chaffuer. Thursday it was my Uncle Gick. He comes highly reccomended by his 30+ years as a truck driver & his former residence near the Chicago area...not to mention the fact that he is the official family chaffuer. He takes Busha & Bucka on their vacations, takes his mother-in-law to her doctor's appointments, took me to Indy to see G'ma M&M when she had her stroke, and drove Busha & the Aunties to Colorado one summer. We'd rent him out, but we need him too frequently....sorry.
Yesterday it was Husband's job. I wasn't planning on making the trip until today, but Husband thought we could swing it after lunch. He asked his mom to come set with the three oldest kids so we wouldn't have to wrestle them through the store. So off we went, practically childless.

We made it through the entire store without having to take anyone potty, threatening anyone under our breath, confining anyone to the back of a shopping cart, denying a toy purchase (or 12), breaking up any fights, catching any runaways, or losing any kids. It was blissful...or at least as blissful as Wal-Mart can get on a Saturday afternoon.

We even had a chance to discuss the possibility of taking a vacation this summer. Husband has scheduled his vacation time in two big blocks. We were going to go away for the weekend for our 10th anniversary, but Bitsy put a damper on those plans. So instead we're planning on taking off this year. I jokingly said we could go to Yellowstone as Husband's always wanted to see it (but it's not really weekend trip material). He said he didn't want to drive that far with the kids. I was confused until we discovered we were talking about 2 different vacations (I was thinking of the just us trip, he was thinking family vaca). So now the question is, where do you take 4 small children on vacation? Do not say Disney World...I'll be forced to kick you. We've never taken a vacation before. I'm scared.

Back to our trip to town: I guess while we were in the store, I mentioned more than once that I was hungry. As we were driving away, Husband asked where I wanted to eat. "I don't care as long as it isn't McDonalds." He said, "Where's the Chinese Restaraunt?" I nearly went into cardiac arrest! Husband does not eat Chinese. I took him to a buffet once when we were dating & he was unimpressed (it was also the first time he'd ever eaten broccoli).

So I got my to-go tray full of lo-mein, sesame pork, broccoli & beef, mongolian chicken, and other fabulous things not from the dollar menu...and he got a chicken sandwich from Burger King. We were both happy and I had enough left overs to get me through dinner last night as well.

Last night I gave BabyGirl her prednisone a little earlier so she was in bed and asleep by 10 o'clock (I should mention that her normal bed time is 8 pm). I gave it to her before dinner...then she flipped out & screamed for 30 minutes after bath time. Can I just say I am not looking forward to this child hitting puberty?! Once the boys were settled in bed, she paced around the living room & talked non-stop about nothing...and got very angry if you interupted her. After about an hour and a half of total manic behavior, she settled down to watch the end of That Thing You Do with us.

BabyGirl & I are reading Peter Pan together at night (since the boys aren't really into chapter books yet & would rather their bed time stories feature Buzz Lightyear or SpongeBob). We usually finish one chapter & argue about reading a second. Last night I'm not sure she was still awake when Toodles shot the Wendy at Tink's command. We may have to rehash tonight.

(Side note: is anyone else having trouble with Spell check? Mine hasn't worked all week...as you may have noticed.)

The Nature of Evil

Can Prednisone make a little girl morph into Lucrezia Borgia? I'm worried she may attempt to poision someone. Maybe it's the lack of sleep brought on by the Prednisone that's making her evil. I don't know. I only know I'm glad we've only got 2 doses & a day and a half left. I can't take much more of this. None of us can. The mini-dictator bit is getting old really fast! And our eardrums are permanetly damaged...I'm sure of it.

Hives, Ice, the ER, and Uncle Gick didn't even puke

I should win some kind of motherhood award. Serioulsy, Ya'll. Or at the very least somekind of financial restitution. Can you sue your own minor children for mental anguish? OK, so it's not really their fault, but it is beginning to wreek of conspiracy.

Yesterday, BabyGirl finally gave in & decided to do her homework. She did her penmanship, and moved on to math. After the first side of her math worksheet, she started complaining of the cold. I told her to put something on & went on about my business. 20 minutes later I discovered her sitting at the table curled in a ball, freezing. Her temp was back up to 101.2, so I gave her some medicine & sent her to bed.

She napped for about an hour, got up & lounged around for about 20 more minutes, then I sent her in to finish her homework. I was doing dishes when she walked by & pulled her night shirt off (she was itchy...again). I noticed an odd red spot on her arm & called her over to me. Her neck, arms, & torso were covered in a strange rash. I can state for a fact it had not been there 2 hours prior. It was an ugly mess...my first thought was ringworm until I realized it covered about 30% or more of her body.

I called Uncle E's to see if they could watch the boys so I could take her to the ER (it was just after 6 & the boys were in the tub). Then I called Husband to tell him what was going on. He told me to be careful of the roads...I'd forgotten about the ice we were in the middle of. I do not drive in snow & ice. So I called Uncle Gick to see if he'd ride in to the hospital with us. Unkie Di said, "Stay there, he'll come get you."

By the time we got to the ER, the rash had spread & BabyGirl was miserable. The doctor we had was wonderful (much to my great relief...they have one there I cannot stand). He said it was hives & probably caused by her new antibiotics. He took her off the antibiotics, put her on prednisone, ran blood work to rule out infection, and said strep might not even have been the problem to begin with since they never did a strep culture. He wants us to have a strep test done on Monday to see, but he wasn't too happy with the doctor's office for putting her on antibiotics without a strep test. I've always been told they treat strep & tonsilits the same way, so there's no sense in a swab. He thought it may have been a virus. The rash was gone before we left the hospital with no meds.

Uncle Gick, Unkie Di, the girls & I headed to CVS to get the prednisone. As we were pulling out of the parking space, BabyGirl puked all over herself. All I could do was stick my hands out to catch it. By the time we were done, her coat, my coat, my cardigan, her pants, her shoes, my pants, my socks, and half the back of the van had been spattered with puke. Unkie Di went into CVS & bought a plastic CD box incase BabyGirl needed to hurl again. Half a roll of paper towels & a handful of baby wipes later & we headed home. Now I have to say, Uncle Gick does not deal with vomit well. Not at all. He normally hums or whistles when it happens. BabyGirl puked in her room at the ER while he was waiting with us, and again in the van while he was driving. He never flinched. He did take Bitsy out of the ER room after a few minutes, but still, I was very proud of him. If he hummed at all, I never heard it.

BabyGirl is still sleeping & I'm dreading giving her a second dose of Prednisone (nasty, horrid stuff). The hives came back before she finally gave up & went to bed at midnight last night.

I'm learning that when it seemes like you're at the very end of your rope, you find a little more lenght dangling just beneath you.

Oddly enough, at the same time I was in the ER with BabyGirl, Art was in the ER with Syd...same problem, different medicine! Syd had it worse as her face & hands were swollen. Both girls are on prednisone now. What a world.