A Crazy Week

I have been absent from Blog World for the past week because several things have happened this week that have required my attention. So far, I have done 78 loads of laundry, yet still have piles of dirty in the laundry area. I also made a pecan pie, which was wonderful, but now we are all pecan-ed out. Erin is sick again, so she's been back and forth to the doctor trying to get rid of whatever it is that's making her wheeze, cough, phlegm up and have diarrhea. We have been on the nebulizer, breathing in smoke for 4 fours a day (+nights) ever since. Sigh. The diarrhea is now going even stronger (no pun intended, he he) because she was put on a z-pack, which kills good bacteria too, so we are eating a lot of Gogurt. I also set the house on fire, by way of our natural gas heater. So I've been cleaning smoke residue off of everything ever since. And we had to get a new heater, because the old one was pretty crisped.
I'm not sure I want to get into all that right now, but just for my peace of mind, can everyone make sure their smoke alarms are still working? Just for me?? Because I had both kids in the tub and I wouldn't have known about the fire in time if ours hadn't been working so well. I got both naked-but-towel-wrapped kids outside and into the car (it was 30 degrees out!), called 911, eventually got the fire department there, got Buddy out of the house and the Jeep backed into the driveway across the street. I was very grateful that I at least had diapers and sweatpants in the diaper bag. After a lot of commotion, we were let back into the house, where it got to air out a lot more. Then the cleanup started, as well as shopping for a new heater, which was financed by God with the option of low interest payments.
And we have company coming in 2 days!
Then Ian got the cough from Erin, which makes him throw up every time he bends over. So we had a lot of that. But he can keep everything down just fine as long as he doesn't cough within 10 minutes of eating anything. So...yeah. Ew.

Add a couple of sleepless nights, mess mess mess, bug bombing because the smoke was some sort of attractant to every bug still alive after the last frost.
And there is a renegade cat (whose name should be Heathcliff) in the neighborhood who is targeting our trash cans and taking great delight in stringing it out all over our porch.
And Berry ate our $30 waterhose. It is in small pieces all over the yard still. Sigh.
And we got an unexpected bill that made our eyes bug out a little (ah-OOOga). [Think Roger Rabbit]
Ian is now on Thanksgiving Break. No school all week long, which I'm happy about, for his sake. We still have homework, but that's okay, he missed school because of his gag reflex, so we can catch up on our reading no problem.
How come these things pile up right before family comes to visit???

Sick of Sick

This week has been another round of sickness. Monday, Erin had her follow-up appointment from her previous round of cold/cough/yuck. She seemed better, she really did. Everything checked out just fine. While at the doc's office, I found out that they've changed to a 4 day work week. They are closed on Wednesdays and open earlier and later on the remaining days. Tuesday, Erin had a runny nose and a little cough. Ian still has his cough, but only in the middle of the night and first thing in the morning. Tuesday night was horrible.
I noticed Erin breathing harder and harder and crying about every 30 minutes. In the middle of the longest night in the world, I counted her breaths at 55 a minute. I tried everything in my arsenal, since cough medicines, etc have been pooh poohed by the FDA and are no longer even available. It was a long and sleepless night.
The next morning was Wednesday. Uh oh. Our doctor's office was closed. I called the other pediatrician that usually gets our business whenever the office is closed. I explained, begged, pleaded and must've sounded as insane as I felt (all wild-eyed and wild-haired) because she put us in.
We left early. Poor Erin was breathing so hard she couldn't sleep and couldn't cough up whatever was blocking her throat.
After the normal paperwork, we got in and Erin was introduced to the wonderful Nebulizer. The doc thinks she had an asthma attack, though it may not turn out to be chronic.
So we have steroids and a z-pack and the nebulizer every 4 hours until the weekend where we will go to every 6 hours and then off if she is doing better.
So far, 4 hours have not gone by fast enough. But she is sleeping better and feeling a little better. She is still not eating much, but that will improve as soon as I start listening to reason and fixing chocolate and french fries for supper every night, like Ian has been suggesting for years.
Ian is relieved that the crying has stopped and has resigned himself to sharing his toys for peace and quiet.
Things are starting to look normal to me now and not as if I'm looking at them from inside a floating bubble.
Sigh. I'm just sick of being sick!

Trusting

Right now, everyone in our family would rather be doing these things (together, of course).




And I'll tell you why.
Ever get one of them days where darn near everything is going wrong???
Well, my poor HC is having one of those weeks. I am too, indirectly, but I just feel so BAD for him. Right now he is at his workplace working on our only vehicle, who decided to give up its will to live this morning when we were ready to go home. But let's back up. Last night was night #5 of Erin's Phlegm, a Lifetime original. So she gets coughing fits and needs to be held upright to hack it up. This requires walking on my part and interrupts my HC's sleep (Erin is very noisy about phlegm hacking). He has been sleeping on the couch. At 3am, he got bad news about work and couldn't seem to get back to sleep after that. At 7:45, I got up. Late. School starts at 7:55, ya'll! So we did a flight of the bumblebee and got everyone dressed and out. Chris had managed to fall back asleep and stumbled around drearily. He had an important meeting at work at 8 about a complaint being made on him (which was groundless, as usual). Gustav, now a tropical storm, has hit us and we are getting massive rainfall, flood warnings, etc, so we drove to school today. I got reamed by the crossing guard/school security about the Jeep sticking out in the road (he was trying to drive over to get me and I guess he was blocking traffic? uh....). I told Chris and he stopped and had it out with the security guard (in a small town, everyone knows everyone and I think the guy was having a bad day too), then drove us to the 'office' for this meeting. We were late. We waited and waited for the chief to get done talking to this complaining person with the law-breaking 17 year old. Turns out my HC wasn't even needed; the chief handled it and sent the complainer on his way. My HC had 2 fillings fall out and has had trouble eating. One filling on each side, top plate. And then we got in our car and it wouldn't start. Everybody groan.
Great, it's the corroded battery cables. We had this problem last time we went to Fayetteville, when we went to Golden Corral. But just a tweak and a ping on the cables and we made it out of the parking lot and back home. Today was not the case. After new battery cables, it still wasn't starting. To make a 5 hour fix-it job short, we had to get a new starter. An expensive starter! I am thankful that it wasn't anything major, but it was a whole lot more expensive than we are comfortable with!
It's just rough to have all this added to near-sleepless nights with sick kids and problems at work for my HC. Everything just builds up and feels like one big throbbing...something. So I stopped and had a talk with God and felt better and now I'm waiting to see how we're going to get through this. And I'm trying to convince my HC not to cancel his dentist appointment.

I've Been Shot! Again!

I cannot go to bed tonight without recounting our trip to the doctor this afternoon for checkups. Erin's birthday is the day after Ian's, so I scheduled their checkups together. I knew that Erin would need her 12 month shots, but I wasn't so sure about Ian. We have the added benefit of have our doctor's office in town, so it's about a 3 minute drive if there's not a train blocking the road. As usual, we got there and waited. And got weighed and measured, etc and shown to a room. And we waited. An hour later, we were waiting for the nurse to come and give both kids their shots and HC and Steven came. HC had had a work thing to do, a statement to get or whatnot, so he had been unable to come. Boy I was glad that he came anyway because it was Shot Time. We decided that Ian would go first before he could hyperventilate about how bad it would be and work himself into a faint. Later, I wished I would have waited for the faint.

The nurse showed me how she wanted me to hold him--the "I-Am-Your-StraightJacket-Lockdown" and yes, told Ian not to flinch. I repeat, how can Anyone relax when someone is about to insert a long needle into the side of their leg??? It's just not going to happen. And it didn't.

He screamed like a Banshee the entire time, like someone combing a cat the wrong way. He screamed even louder when she put the band-aids on his legs. Then it was time to switch sides and give the last one on the other leg. Ian wanted nothing to do with me, the nurse or the world and just Forget about school. If this was what it took to go to school, he'd take door number 2. Not even the Garfield band-aids would cheer him up.

Erin sat there in Chris's arms the whole time with her eyes as big as dinner plates. She looked like she wanted a recap of those 2 minutes when she hadn't been listening beforehand. Had she Really heard someone mention that her turn was next or was that just some sick misunderstanding?

Ian screamed so loud on the last shot that I heard my brain rattle around and spin my eyeballs.

Then it was Erin's turn. She didn't scream, she growled at the nurse during the first one. HC couldn't handle holding her down and instead held Ian while I held her cute little leg. The last shot though, given in the fatty part of her little leg, she had had enough. I was holding her leg and her other foot, since she was bracing it against the nurse to keep her from getting any closer with that needle. Then she wrestled the other leg out of my hands and the nurse's hands, squalling/yelling/Braveheart battle cry ringing out "Freeeeee-dom!" She almost made it, but the nurse finished and snocked that last band-aid on.

Erin later tried to express her rebellion by eating that band-aid, but I caught her and threw it away.

So we went home and had some Tylenol (and some medicinal peaches, in Ian's case).

At bathtime, Ian peeled off his band-aids and proclaimed himself 'all better.' Now he's ready to go to school.

But first, we have to get through kiddie pictures tomorrow.

Sheesh. The things no one mentions when you say you want kids.....

I'm Makin' Waffles

Well, I caught the cold that everyone else has had and am very coughy and runny (no Blue Beast for me, thank the Lord) and bleary-eyed.

But we got our waffle iron yesterday from UPS. While I was racing around the house trying to find some pants (hey, it was early!), Ian calmly opened the door, received the package, said "Thank You!" and brought it to me, wildly flailing about in my room trying to stuff both my legs in the same leg hole with no success. Baffled, I looked at Ian with the box in his hands and then looked out the window to see the back side of the UPS truck as it drove away. Uh...okay. So we have our waffle iron and this morning, fever or no fever, we had waffles! And just to be clear about this, Ian ate 3. I made a bit of a mess, since this is the first time I've used one of these (just the one at CCC in Cathcart and those waffles are huge). But we are slowly making our way through our 2 half gallons of Mrs Butterworth that we got from Sam's.

For house selling news, we are still trying to keep the house clean just in case Coldwell Banker calls about showings. Chris and I joked last night that we would have 2 showings on the day when I was the sickest and didn't feel like doing anything. We'll see. I feel somewhat better after showering. Good thing, because tonight is our group trip to Golden Corral in Fayetteville and I need to be able to eat my money's worth. :) Gotta review my spanish though, because all the grillmasters and buffet workers there are spanish and you need to know how to convey medium, rare, etc or you'll get a rubbery, overdone steak.

For our neighborhood excitement for the week, the next door neighbor's pitbull snapped his line again and had some sort of altercation with the trash guy. So Chris was summoned and almost got to tase the dog (which is better than the family getting sued for the dog messing someone up), but the dog was picked up by animal control before he got to. Ms Geraldine, the old lady across the street, called to tell me about it, since Chris had to leave to deal with an accident involving a Rent-a-Center truck backing up over someone's car. Ms Geraldine told me first that the dog bit the trash guy, but changed it to "he like ta bit that trash man" so I wasn't sure what exactly had happened. This isn't the first time the dog has snapped his line and he is very territorial, as we have found because we live next door. Eek.

We also got Buddy's Frontline and I'm excited about having a flea-free dog, since he will be in the Jeep with us on the trip down to FL. And he will then be outside at whoever's house, so flea-free is a great thing, with spring/summer coming on.

Well, we've got errands to do today. The usual bank, post office, KK's (Kwik Kountry) for gas, the library if the books I ordered are in, etc. I told Chris last night at bedtime that if we move too soon, I'll have to cancel all my book requests (sob, sob!). He didn't look very disturbed or concerned by this announcement. I don't see how he can be so unfeeling. I've been waiting since December for a couple of these books, since I'm #2 in the queue. Hmph. But that's okay, it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make.

Oh, and yesterday, while Chris was serving warrants, one of those interesting citizens, reeking of interesting odors, asked Chris if our house really was "fer sell." Chris told him that it was. "So where ya movin' to next then?" "Florida!" That got his attention. "Really now?" Chris assured him. "Yes, as soon as our house sells, you won't have to deal with me any more." The man practically jumped into Chris's arms. "I KNOW SOMEONE WHO'S LOOKIN' FER A HOUSE!" he shouted. "Well, we've got a sign out front with a number on it," Chris told him. Chris is very confident that the house will sell soon, even if all the dopers get together and everyone puts 1,000 bucks in. I am very amused by this prospect and we are waiting to see what will happen.

There's always the joked about option of putting a jar in the local gas stations "Help Goforth Move!"

Shoveling Poop and Roping a Deer

Well, it's Friday and my day started out on a high note (more like greenish-brown) as Ian tried to change his own poopy pull-up and managed to get it on his foot, track it around the house a few times (think Billy on the Family Circus) and then end up in the bathroom with the offending foot in the sink, trying to wash it off without anyone knowing. All this happened as Erin was waking up, Chris was getting ready for work and I was still stumbling around groggily with my hair all sticking up before I had my morning anything. So Chris was denied his shower and had to go to work in the middle of the cleanup mission with a stubbly face and a grouchy look, since he had tried to disrobe Ian without getting messy (no success). Ian was thrown in the shower, the BM shoveled off of him (by me. With my hand--blewahgack!) and washed thoroughly. Erin had to cry a bit as I scrubbed carpet, removed rugs and mopped everything else. Then I had to clean the sink (GACK!) and get Ian dressed again. Chris took care of Erin before he left, so she was safely playing in her Exer-Saucer by the time I was giving the floor a final scrub. Then I washed and disinfected myself about 14 times and still just felt nasty. Then I checked my email and got a much needed laugh. No, really, this story saved my day from being absolutely heinous (as well as the days of my children, because everyone knows that when Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy). So without further ado, Thank you Tammi and here's the story she sent me. :)



Roping A Deer...Names have been removed to protect the stupid!


Actual Letter from someone who writes, and farms.


I had this idea that I was going to rope a deer, put it in a stall, feed it up on corn for a couple of weeks, then kill it and eat it.The first step in this adventure was getting a deer. I figured that, since they congregate at my cattle feeder and do not seem to have much fear of me when we are there (a bold one will sometimes come right upand sniff at the bags of feed while I am in the back of the truck not 4 feet away), it should not be difficult to rope one, get up to it and toss a bag over its head (to calm it down) then hog tie it and transport it home. I filled the cattle feeder then hid down at the end with my rope. The cattle, having seen the roping thing before, stayed well back. They were not having any of it.

After about 20 minutes, my deer showed up -- 3 of them. I picked out a likely looking one, stepped out from the end of the feeder, and threw my rope. The deer just stood there and stared at me. I wrapped the rope around my waist and twisted the end so I would have a good hold. The deer still just stood and stared at me, but you could tell it was mildly concerned about the whole rope situation. I took a step towards it...it took a step away. I put a little tension on the rope and then received an education.




The first thing that I learned is that, while a deer may just stand there looking at you funny while you rope it, they are spurred to action when you start pulling on that rope.


That deer EXPLODED.


The second thing I learned is that pound for pound, a deer is a LOT stronger than a cow or a colt. A cow or a colt in that weight range I could fight down with a rope and with some dignity. A deer-- no chance. That thing ran and bucked and twisted and pulled. There was no controlling it and certainly no getting close to it. As it jerked me off my feet and started dragging me across the ground, it occurred to me that having a deer on a rope was not nearly as good an idea as I had originally imagined.
The only upside is that they do not have as much stamina as many other animals. A brief 10 minutes later, it was tired and not nearly as quick to jerk me off my feet and drag me when I managed to get up. It took me a few minutes to realize this, since I was mostly blinded by the blood flowing out of the big gash in my head.


At that point, I had lost my taste for corn-fed venison. I just wanted to get that devil creature off the endof that rope. I figured if I just let it go with the rope hanging around its neck, itwould likely die slow and painfully somewhere. At the time, there was no love at all between me and that deer. At that moment, I hated the thing, and I would venture a guess that the feeling was mutual.

Despite the gash in my head and the several large knots where I had cleverly arrested the deer's momentum by bracing my head against various large rocks as it dragged me across the ground, I could still think clearly enough to recognize that there was a small chance that I shared some tiny amount of responsibility for the situation we were in, so I didn't want the deer to have it suffer a slow death, so I managed to get it lined back up in between my truck and the feeder - a little trap I had set before hand...kind of like a squeeze chute.I got it to back in there and I started moving up so I could get my rope back.


Did you know that deer bite? They do!

I never in a million years would have thought that a deer would bite somebody, so I was very surprised when I reached up there to grab that rope and the deer grabbed hold of my wrist.Now, when a deer bites you, it is not like being bit by a horse where they just bite you and then let go. A deer bites you and shakes its head--almost like a pit bull. They bite HARD and it hurts.The proper thing to do when a deer bites you is probably to freeze and draw back slowly. I tried screaming and shaking instead.

My method was ineffective. It seems like the deer was biting and shaking for several minutes, but it was likely only several seconds. I, being smarter than a deer (though you may be questioning that claim by now) tricked it. While I kept it busy tearing the bejesus out of my right arm, I reached up with my left hand and pulled that rope loose. That was when I got my final lesson in deer behavior for the day.


Deer will strike at you with their front feet. They rear right up ontheir back feet and strike right about head and shoulder level, andtheir hooves are surprisingly sharp.I learned a long time ago that, when an animal -- like a horse --strikes at you with their hooves and you can't get away easily, the best thing to do is try to make a loud noise and make an aggressive move towards the animal. This will usually cause them to back down a bit so you can escape.This was not a horse. This was a deer, so obviously, such trickery would not work. In the course of a millisecond, I devised a different strategy.I screamed like a woman and tried to turn and run.



The reason I had always been told NOT to try to turn and run from a horse that paws at you is that there is a good chance that it will hit you in the back of the head.Deer may not be so different from horses after all, besides being twice as strong and 3 times as evil, because the second I turned to run, it hit me right in the back of the head and knocked me down. Now, when a deer paws at you and knocks you down, it does not immediately leave. I suspect it does not recognize that the danger has passed. What they do instead is paw your back and jump up and down on you while you are laying there crying like a little girl and covering your head.I finally managed to crawl under the truck and the deer went away.


So now I know why when people go deer hunting they bring a rifle with a scope so that they can be somewhat equal to the Prey.





Chris and I laughed our heads off at the end of the day when I read it to him. This poor guy, after recovery, was a pretty good sport to tell everyone else. Then again, the best stories are true. I guess that's why blogs are so great.

Locked Out!

Just in case our lives weren't dramatic enough, I wasn't paying attention today and locked myself out of the house. [shakes head] I know, what was I thinking?? To rewind a bit, I was trying to clean (emphasis on 'trying') and Ian was outside playing. I put Erin on the floor so she could sit and play and chew on all her toys and went out to check on Ian because it was quiet and he wasn't on the dirtpile. I go out and he is dipping his little Hot Wheels in the little puddle leftover from the overflow of our sewage line. If it gets backed up (don't worry, it was overflow from the laundry this time, but still enough to make me yack) then the extra water makes a little puddle and eventually soaks down. Please disregard and immediately forget all of the previous statements if you are interested in buying the house.

I grabbed Ian by the clean part of his arm and marched him directly into the house to spray him with Clorox and scrub him within an inch of his unsuspecting life, all the time informing him of the nature of the puddle in which he was playing. He immediately became loudly concerned about the state of his toys, which were still outside in or near the 'poopy water.'

So we got his shoes back on and went outside for a toxic rescue mission. Erin was relocated to the Exer-Saucer. This is the stupid part. I shut the door. Our sliding glass door that leads to the backyard has an automatic lock. We have been very careful to never shut it all way if we are on the outside of it. I didn't want a draft to get inside or something and I shut it all the way. I also remember locking the front door this morning after Chris went to work. I was S-T-U-C-K.

After some door and window pushing and pulling, I hopped the fence, leaving Ian inside the yard looking puzzled, yet intrigued at the sight of Mommy clambering out, and went to our neighbor's house. Our neighbor is a little old lady that is annoying, but sweet, and is thankfully almost always home. She listened to my frantic babbling with minimal interruptions about afghans and squirrels and let me use her phone. "I don't have my keys!" Chris reminded me. "I left them at home for you. Well, great." (My key is currently in the lockbox left by the real estate agent so we are currently splitting one housekey.) Chris was still in town and agreed to rush over to liberate Erin (or to let my jacketless hide in, however you choose to look at it). Erin was minimally fussy at this point, since it is so rarely quiet in our house. I went back home, after being informed by the neighbor that I had left Ian inside the fence, and keep trying windows. Blast the screwed in screens and double windows! They are absolutely no good for a discreet break-in! If you are interested in buying our house, please regard and ponder the last statement.

By this time, Chris had arrived in his unit with a rider, thankfully a friend who kept the smirking down to a minimum. Then again, he may have been looking at my haircut, which hasn't been cooperating since the moment I left the salon. There is one window opened that Chris had put an extension cord through for the shed. He ripped the screen and summoned the excited little squirt who would love to have this kind of adventure every day. We stuffed Ian through the window and helped him through the laundry shelf that he dumped over with his feet as I crammed him in and he went to the sliding glass door. It was too difficult for him to open from the inside. Chris shouted for him to go to the front door and he and the rider went around to the kitchen door. Ian went to the front door and shouted. From what I could see through the condensation of the glass door, Erin looked relieved at the noise and began chewing on a toy again. Chris banged at the kitchen door for a bit longer until Ian figure out that he meant the Other Front door and unlocked it for them. My menfolk saved the day! Cue triumphant music.

I hurriedly promised Chris to never shut the slider behind me again and he pealed out of the driveway, eager to collect more warrants. Well, he didn't peal out, but I'm sure he wanted to just for the fun of it.

Ian told me that he was tired of playing outside and got a sucker for being such a good boy (and for being small enough to fit through the window gap). Lucky for him, I guess, because it took the focus off of him playing in the toxic water puddle. I think I grossed him out enough to stay away from it. And it's been rainy for a few days, so the entire yard is muddy and puddly, so don't everyone think that we have a huge yuck of a rancid puddle over half our yard. It's a little bitty hole, just right for dipping your Hot Wheels into (sorry, I have to stop and gag a little, just for form).

Anyway, lesson learned! ALWAYS check behind you before you mindlessly shut a door! You may have to break into your own house!

Fiasco

It was late Saturday night and all through the house,


only Ian was stirring, watching Mickey Mouse.


Erin and I were nestled all snug in the bed, with a cute little paperback inches from my head.


And Chris in his cop car and ice on the ground, I was wondering if another blanket could be found.


When out from the yard there arose such a racket, I sprang from my bed, forgetting my jacket. And what to my wondering ears do I hear, but Buddy barking madly. What did he fear?


I ran to the back door, past the couch like a flash, tried to slide the door open but the ice held it fast.


The barking continued, I called my cop. Stay inside he ordered, I'll come make it stop.


Okay, I'll quit with the prose, but admit it, you were excessively diverted.


Anyway, if you're wondering what happened, Chris drove up and I went outside in my nightgown and slippers, wrapped in a throw. He and his rider got out (luckily it was a friend) and Chris went to the side of the house to see what Buddy was growling and howling at. It was a fluffy spitting cat. Chris jumped the fence and chased him out and the cat and Buddy went tearing around the yard. Google (the rider) and I went around to the gate to head the cat off. There was an altercation with Buddy and the cat on the far side of the house, in which Berry is released and goes loping past the whole thing. In other words, if there ain't no dope, you're on your own, Buddy. (Berry is Chris's drug dog and too well trained to chase felines.) Buddy sustained some mild injuries from the altercation, but then again, he did grab the cat by the head and launch him a few yards, just not high enough to clear the 6 foot fence. The cat let gravity take over and used his chance to streak to the porch. Google cornered him on the porch. The cat broke our front porch light fixture and scared himself back into the rose bush where he met more of Buddy. After two more attempts, the cat found an opening and took off past Google and past me (I thought for a moment he would seek refuge up my nightgown and yelped rather loudly, but that only served to make the cat run faster).


Buddy was patted over loudly and rubbed hard, declared the victor and got his bloody nose wiped off. I snuck him some bacon treats after Chris and Google left. What a good dog! He's so ferocious now that he's an outside dog! And he's lost weight too!!! Woo hoo! At least one of us has.



And that's the action from our house. At least for now. And Ian's stuffy nose and the distribution of nose juice....but that's another story.