Sure, it really is an honor just to be nominated, et cetera and so forth...

So, the ever-fantabulous Hartley, amazing author and tireless champion of parents with SPD/ASD/special needs kiddos, has a little awards shindig going on over at her blog.  Nominations have been going on for the past few days, and I just received the news that my blog has been nominated for an SPD Blogger Award!!  In the category for "Humorous Blog" no less! (I've checked out the competition and it is fierce, *gulp*!)

This is literally the first good thing to happen to me this year so far.  Yes, I know we're not even 3 weeks into 2011 but so far? It has bitten the big one.  We're in the midst of another major battle with the school district regarding Kiddo's current IEP and have further heard that it is 99.9999999999999% sure that Kiddo will not be granted an aide for next year (or ever again after this year) when her CSE meeting rolls around in March.  Kiddo has now been examined by a pediatric pulmonologist, who confirmed what her pediatrician has been suspecting for several months now - Kiddo has asthma, and with the relatively "late" onset of symptoms, it is likely that she will have asthma for the rest of her life (as opposed to kids who have it as toddlers and then outgrow it).  Have you ever seen a major sensory seeker on not one but two asthma meds simultaneously?  Holy bouncing off the walls, Batman!  We're working out an appropriate med regime that controls the inflammation with the least amount of disruption to her life, but the working out phase involves dealing with issues like difficulty falling asleep/restless sleep and other fun stuff like that.  (If you think a major sensory seeker hopped up on two stimulant asthma meds is a scary enough sight, add to that a lack of adequate rest and we have a new horror movie franchise in the making.)  On top of that, Kiddo has just been more challenging than usual behaviorally.  I won't go into details, but she was Majorly Grounded for almost a week, which effectively killed our wedding anniversary date night out plans (and on top of that, it's never fun to have to be the Grounding Enforcer/Prison Warden anyhow).  Last but not least, she's been sick for more days this January than not, so we're stuck inside with playdates and birthday parties falling by the wayside thanks to those evil, evil germies.  (Side note: someone told me that the odd years are always more challenging than the even years.  Six was pretty dang delightful around here, especially in light of how seven has been.  I'm willing to believe that at this point, especially if it gives us a light at the end of a tunnel that will only go another 5 months... Anyone else ever hear that one?)

So, like I said, 2011? Not the best year so far.  (Isn't this the big Mayan Apocalypse year?  Are all these issues actually harbingers of the impending doom - and if so, where the heck are Dean and Sam and Castiel when I need them?  Will I start dreaming of Phyllis Diller again?  Did I mention that coming up in December, I turn the big 4-0?  Isn't that bad enough for one year in and of itself?)  

But... then I received the news from Hartley that I've been nominated for an SPD Blogger Award - and it's a MAJOR AWARD, you know.  I'm hoping the prize looks something like this:

And yes, it's just an honor just to be nominated, especially since I didn't nominate myself - someone out there likes me!  But then again, if you really do like me, please drop by the voting page starting tomorrow at 6am and help me stuff the ballot box, mmmmkay?  I mean, George Clooney and Hugh Jackman have presented Oscars and Golden Globes before, so what if it's one of them presenting the SPD Blogger Awards?  Do you want to be the one to make me miss out on that?  Let's reverse the trend of craptastictude for 2011 by landing me a Major Award!

I promise I'll mention you in my acceptance speech - maybe even give you a shout-out from the red carpet when Ryan Seacrest stops me to find out who I'm wearing..... "Microfleece yoga pants from Target, Ryan, of course!  Mind the sparks, now..."

Gobble, gobble!

(Above is this year's Kiddo and the Turkey photo.  You can check out previous years' editions here.)

We were supposed to have my sister, brother-in-law and nephews with us for Thanksgiving this year.  They were supposed to come up last year, too, but illness prevented them from making the trip (it was the dreaded swine flu, which had felled our house over Halloween).  This year, my sister and I kept careful watch on the kids, and no one was appearing germy, so we thought we were good to go.  A decently sized turkey and inordinate amounts of potatoes and broccoli were purchased and stored.  Fixings for pies were gathered.  The guest bed was unearthed from beneath the piles of clothes I'd been sorting upon it, beds were made up, the house was cleaned.  On the other end, my sister was packing up clothes and dog gear, making sandwiches and loading the cooler.  

You know where this is going, right?  Yep.  Late Tuesday afternoon, less than 18 hours before they were planning to leave, one of my nephews got sick.  Not just a little sick, either, but majorly sick.  Once again, the Thanksgiving trip had to be canceled.  Many tears were shed by the cousins here and in Jersey, and much disappointment and sadness felt by the grown-ups, too, but what can you do?  A sick kid is a sick kid and we all know you can't travel 6-8 hours with a really sick kid.  At least we will see them in a month at Christmas...


In a "making lemons out of lemonade" - or, more accurately, a "uh-oh, how are we going to eat a 16 pound bird plus four pounds of potatoes, stuffing and broccoli apiece" moment - I called up some friends who were neither traveling or cooking Thanksgiving this year and invited them to join us.  Happily, they agreed to spend their holiday with us here at Chez Smith, so I will not need to see if it is, in fact, physically possible to burst the drawstring on my yoga pants by sheer carbohydrate ingestion.  (Oh, and did I mention the pies?  I made two - apple and pecan.  Even did the apple pie's crust from scratch.  Go me!)

So, we will have a table full of friends and food in just a few short hours.  Wherever and however you plan to spend the day, I hope it is likewise full of family, friends, food and fun.  Also, if you have a pair of Thanksgiving pants, I am majorly jealous.




Gobble, gobble!

Sick Day

This picture was taken about 20 minutes ago.  This scene is a vast improvement over Saturday night-Sunday morning,, which began with the chilling words "I just threw up - in my sleep" called weakly and tearily down the stairs to where Hubby and I were sitting on the couch watching a movie.  Hubby took the worse of the two clean-up tasks, taking care of her bed and its various casualties (there were several of the Stuffed Animal variety) while I took care of getting Kiddo cleaned up and tucked into bed in the guest room.  Once everything was all squared away, we returned to our movie, though with a few more cases of Filmus Interruptus due to Vomitus Childus, I'm left wondering if I've judged Paul Blart, Mall Cop a bit unfairly...

The Vomitus Childus continued throughout the night, I think six times in all.  A bleary-eyed call to the pediatrician Sunday morning confirmed that yes, there is a bad stomach bug going around, with the silver lining that it has been lasting no more than 24-36 hours.  (I, of course, instantly suspected our old enemy, strep throat, as Kiddo has proven especially susceptible to strep over the years and for her, strep = major barfage.)  We stayed in yesterday, watching Annie and E.T. while snuggled on the couch, and yes, I cried while watching E.T. as I always do.  It's this scene that gets me every time:

 
(I'm a bit misty-eyed just looking at that still photo.  Yeesh.)

So, here we are today, Kiddo home and tucked in on the couch, both in our jammies, with the fire crackling and a pile of books by our sides.  My schedule for the day had to be rearranged - I had meetings to attend and errands I was intending to run - but such is life, right?  I can think of worse ways to spend a dreary Monday, anyhow.  Well, so long as we don't get another round of Vomitus Childus that is.......

Stick a fork in me

'cause I am done. As I mentioned in my previous post, Kiddo appeared to be starting with a head cold yesterday morning.   Well, yesterday afternoon she returned home from school white as a sheet with a low grade fever (99.2) and generally looked pitiful, so we skipped her swimming lesson and I put her to bed early with a dose of Children's Mucinex Cold for good measure.

Now, since it isn't possible for my kid to ever catch anything besides strep throat (to which I seem *knock wood* to be mostly immune) without me catching it too, of course I started with the cold symptoms myself.  I can actually tell you the exact moment they began.  I was pushing my shopping cart out of Walmart to my car through the chilly, damp air yesterday afternoon (temperatures were back down into the 30s and I was forced to reluctantly pull my winter coat back out of the closet where I'd optimistically stashed it the previous week) and I breathed in.  With that inhalation (around 2:20pm), my throat began to hurt.  At first I chalked it up to the air, to being thirsty, to *anything* other than germs.  I hopped in the car and chugged a bottle of water.  Throat still hurt.  Dang.  I chose to ignore it and went on with my day, because really, it's not like I actually had a choice.  The world does not stop because Mommy is suddenly feeling unwell, after all. I drove myself home, unpacked the groceries, herded Kiddo into the house when the school bus arrived, tended to her, etc.

By the time she was tucked into bed - 6:50pm despite DST, so I knew she wasn't feeling well - I was listless and sneezy.  I still tried to convince myself that it was nothing more than PMS.  Because PMS gives you a runny nose and sore throat, right?  Hubby got home around 8:30 and we had cold cereal and toast for dinner, then went to bed at 10, and as soon as I rolled onto my side and shut my eyes, I felt it.  That inside-the-skull sloshing of all the snot that seemingly spontaneously generated and ran down into my left side sinuses and nostril as they snuggled into the pillow.  Ugh.  I rolled to the other side and felt the sensation repeat as the tide shifted to my right.  Not.  Good.

As the night progressed, I tossed and turned and woke up to alternatively jam Puffs Pluses into my nostrils or to remove and replace them.  (What?  You've never done that?  I do it all. the. time. when I have a head cold.  I'm doing it right now, as a matter of fact.)  Around 2am, Hubby abandoned ship and moved himself into the guest room to try to get some sleep that wasn't interrupted by my congested breathing, snorting or snoring.  I took advantage of his defection by rolling onto my back so that at least the congestion could reach a state of equilibrium between my sinuses.  As generally happens when I'm not feeling well, my subconscious went all Twilight Zone on me and kept parading odd and unsettling dreams through my increasingly congested noggin for the periods I was actually asleep.

This morning, Kiddo didn't wake up until 8:35.  I would gladly have slept in even longer if I could've, myself.  Instead, I got up, swapped my normal morning attire of ratty sweatshirt-over-jammies for my ratty-fleece-with-pockets-over-jammies so that I can carry a stash of tissues and hand sanitizer with me wherever I go and shuffled downstairs.  Kiddo is home from school today (obviously) and we're both pretty pathetic.  My sinus headache is throbbing to the beat of the opening chords of Eye of the Tiger thanks to her iPod.  I'm presently debating whether to turn on the Wii for her and let her play Littlest Pet Shop so I can go back to bed.  (We have a rule: Kiddo is only allowed to play Wii on the weekends.)  Oh, who am I kidding?  I'm totally turning it on for her as soon as she finishes her breakfast and comes back downstairs. 

The end-of-winter cold is unfortunately a bit of a tradition around our house, and one I would gladly skip.  It's supposed to be gorgeous out today, Hubby told me this morning as he was getting ready for work.  Sunshine and temps in the 50s.  I'd planned to do some yardwork (there are enough sticks in our yard for me to build a bonfire) and I was supposed to be volunteering at school this afternoon on a big art project the first graders are finishing up, but instead I'm going to pull down the shades and retreat to my Mentholated Rainforest Cave. And did I mention on top of this cold, I also have *every* possible PMS symptom right now, too? 

Pathetic.  Totally pathetic.

For the new year, a new blog to read

I had a new visitor to my blog today. Her name is Hartley and she has her own blog, which I popped over to check out after reading the comment she left on mine. You know, as you do in such situations.

Well, as it turns out, Hartley and I have quite a bit in common, besides both having names that start with the letter H. She is an SPD Mama just like me, and she is also a parent through adoption, just like me. I just lost a major chunk of time that I had intended to use cleaning the kitchen (it turns out that the kitchen floor, which is directly attached to the most-used entrance to the house, gets ridiculously filthy what with the snow, salt, mud etc - all the stuff that used to get absorbed/hidden by the carpet in the hallway off the garage-into-house door in our old house) because I was clicking around various posts on Hartley's blog. I found myself nodding vigorously and saying "Oh YES!" and "Amen, sister!" so many times in the posts I was reading that I have decided I must share her blog with you. I mean, here is someone who knows what it's like to have to maintain utmost vigilance over seemingly innocuous things like food dyes and artificial sweeteners. Who knows how hard it is when most of the world believes there are only five senses, not seven. Who probably wouldn't bat an eye at the presence of a mini-trampoline where one normally has a coffee table in one's living room. She's living my life, albeit with two other kids (who have sensory issues of their own to boot) in the mix.

So, bloggy buddies o' mine, please meet Hartley of Hartley's Life With 3 Boys. You might want to start with her posts on You Know You Have a Kiddo With SPD When..., Parts One and Two. She also explains about those other two senses, in case you need clarification or further explanation on that topic.

Here in my own household, we're dealing with the ramifications of a holiday break with an SPD kid. Kiddo has been off her schedule (including staying up past her normal bedtime 3 nights in a row while we were visiting family for Christmas), has had things to eat that she normally doesn't ingest (hello, candy canes and Christmas cookies), has spent many hours strapped in to her booster seat in the car (oh, the horror of forced inactivity) and has had a lot more "screen time" than she ever gets in her daily life. Add to that the less-than-spectacular weather and the fact that we were without her snow boots for a few days after leaving them behind at my folks' house in NJ (Dad shipped them up to us and they arrived, thankfully, yesterday afternoon) and we have a kid who is quite a bit out of sync. Ways that one can spot this include her elevated moodiness (she had a major meltdown over dinner the other night even though it was one of her favorite menus ever), a lot more bumping into things/falling and crashing into things and people, and the increased clinginess especially in the "I need a great, big, giant, squeezy hug" vein. Which isn't such a bad thing in and of itself, except when you are trying to do something that doesn't lend itself to a great, big, giant, squeezy hug at the same time, like, say, going to the bathroom or taking a shower or cleaning the aforementioned kitchen floor. (Going to have to get some sort of mat or rug to put down there, because the plastic boot tray ain't doing the trick.) If it stays nice enough outside - that being an entirely relative term, of course, as presently what I'm considering nice amounts to only moderate snow and a temperature of 29 - I may bundle us up and head over to the park to do some sledding. I'd take her to one of the bouncy places or the Y but I've heard of several virulently nasty bugs going around, and I don't really want to throw Kiddo into that kind of a mix. She has a birthday party to attend on Saturday and that will be enough wrassling around with other germmongers kids. I mean, Kiddo's sporting some pretty good snot herself, especially in her left nostril - there have been more "bats in the cave" than I'd care to count, or even see, in the past few days. So any activity we get into Kiddo, I'd like to be of the non-germ-mingling sort. We've been doing yoga (and boy, I don't know which of us misses her most fantabulous school aide more, because her aide is a total yoga genius, as well as being an all-around amazingly wonderful person) and heavy work and I'm trying to get Kiddo back into sync, something hopefully that will be achieved by Monday when the school bus rolls up to collect Kiddo once again.

So, anyhow, here's to all the other SPD parents out there, with a special "Cheers!" to Hartley. Please do drop by her blog and check her out if you have a few minutes (or are as capable of ignoring the mess in your kitchen as I've been today)!

Leopards and poodles and pigs, oh my!

So, my parents came up to visit for the big Halloween weekend festivities. Mom arrived with her year old standard poodle on Thursday, Dad arrived Friday afternoon. Of course, the Halloween festivities had actually started prior to their arrival, with the Halloween party at Hubby's office on Wednesday afternoon:





On Friday, inclement weather forced the school's Halloween parade indoors. All the various parents, grandparents and siblings crammed into the auditorium and the classes paraded through. I sat on the aisle, camera at the ready, and caught this shot:





You'll notice that this particular leopard *does* in fact change her spots. I never did the same spotting pattern twice for all the various costume-requiring activities. Artistic license, yo!


So, I mentioned that my mom brought up her poodle. Well it turns out that the poodle, ginormous as she may be, is scared - petrified, even! - of Kiddo's goldfish, Swimmy. The dog would slink up to the tank and then when the fish would swim over (because to Swimmy, any movement in the vicinity of the tank could bring manna from Heaven in the form of fish flakes, so Swimmy gets verrrrry excited to see things moving about in any close proximity) the dog would jump back and cower, tail between her legs. Heh.





The Halloween festivities continued on into the weekend, with Kiddo attending a friend's costume birthday party Saturday afternoon and then Trick or Treating in our neighborhood Saturday evening. Alas, a little bit later Saturday night, we went from leopard spots to swine flu. Kiddo spiked a fever of 104 and by midday Sunday, I was chilled, feverish and coughing too. Phone calls with the pediatrician's office have concluded that we both have H1N1 (which is running rampant through the school - over 20% of the kids were absent last Wednesday) so now I'm supposed to be monitoring Kiddo for worsening or new symptoms that might indicate a secondary infection and keep her resting comfortably and pushing fluids in the meanwhile. Sadly, without that great pacifier of TV, Kiddo is proving to be a most cranky and recalcitrant patient, which I do not particularly enjoy given that all I want to do is crawl into bed and let Nyquil take me away. Stupid Swine Flu. Hopefully for Hubby's birthday (yes, today marks the beginning of that glorious period where, for exactly six weeks, Hubby and I are the same age. Then I go back to being a year older, sob sob...) we will NOT give him our germs. He's threatening to fly off to Vegas after work, Dad left for work early this morning and my mother and her scaredy-fish poodle have departed for their apparently equally germy homeland of New Jersey (both of my nieces and one of my nephews down in Jersey have H1N1 symptoms as well) so right now the house is merely occupied by Cranky, Achy, Sneezy, Chilly, Fevery, Whiny and Coughy. Trust me, that's plenty of company for the time being.





(Apparently the above is available for sale as a t-shirt - don't know to whom the credit goes but it's not my original design and props to whomever did create it!!)

We interrupt your regular weekend programming...

... to bring you this Extra Special Bout of Germies! Kiddo woke up an hour after bedtime last night and came back downstairs complaining of a sore throat. I dutifully checked the scene out with assistance of a flashlight and it didn't look remarkably red, bumpy, patchy, blotchy, swollen or any of those other things that one doesn't want to see when peering down one's child's esophagus. I gave her a dose of ibuprofen anyhow, as she was quite insistent that it was hurting, and waited out the night to see what morning would bring.

And morning brought it BIG, y'all. A crying kid who stumbled to the bathroom, clutching at her stomach and saying that her "throat hurt so much" that she "couldn't swallow her slobber" (eloquent, eh?) and then promptly vomited and who was sporting a forehead hot enough to fry eggs upon. A quick check of her temperature verified the egg-frying abilities of her skin, as she had a fever of 102.9. Given that she's not quite proficient in oral thermometer techniques (and that she was afraid she was going to vomit again), I was using that more as a rough estimate of her fever and guessing the actuality might've been a bit further up the scale.

Hubby prepared a "barf bucket" (we're full of the elegance 'round the Smith house) and got Kiddo settled in on the couch while I called the pediatrician. Shortly thereafter, Kiddo and I were on our way to the doctor's office to meet the on-call doc. There was one other sick kid there ahead of us, so Kiddo had to nervously clutch her barf bucket and leopard in the waiting room for a bit, then it was our turn. One rapid strep test later it was confirmed: Kiddo has a raging case of strep throat. She wound up vomiting in the exam room for good measure, and he wrote us out a prescription and sent us on our way.

Kiddo rallied briefly, playing Lego Indiana Jones on the Wii with her dad (his reward to her for cooperating at the doctor with the whole "jab the extra-long q-tip down your throat for the strep test" bit) but then she began to fade. She then spent the majority of the afternoon like this:



I woke her up around 4:00 to check her temperature. Even with a dose of ibuprofen (and antibiotic) coursing through her veins, her fever was up to 103.6. Again, with the oral thermometer, so it is quite possibly higher than that. So, now we're doubling up, doing acetaminophen in between the ibuprofen to try and bring the fever down.

The saddest part to me was how Kiddo was really, really upset that she won't be able to go to school tomorrow. She was cheered by the news that if she has no fever tomorrow, she'll be able to go back to school on Tuesday. (Though that sky-high temperature she's presently heating the house with doesn't bode well for tomorrow being fever-free...) She actually cried this morning at the thought of not going to school tomorrow. I wept a small tear myself at the notion that after only 4 days of school this year, her chance for the Perfect Attendance award is shot for another year. Who are those kids that have perfect attendance? Not elementary school kids, I'm guessing....

My biggest concern is that the last time she had strep, it developed into pneumonia. I don't want that happening again. Here's hoping the antibiotic (a new one to us - Cefdinir, which sound for all the world to me like a character in the Lord of the Rings movies) works well and she is much improved by tomorrow morning... Oh, and the icing on the cake of the Super Sick Kid Sunday? The cat wanted in on the barfing action and proceeded to gack up hairballs and cat food (too hastily gulped down, methinks) in three separate places on the kitchen floor. I tell ya, if Hubby barfs, he's on his own.

Well, I did say "24 hours" now, didn't I....

And those 24 hours of hell have apparently decided to go down fighting.

"Why Heather!" I hear you exclaim. "Didn't you go to bed hours ago, as soon as The Amazing Race ended, as per usual?"

Well, yes, I did plan to go to bed after watching one of my two favorite teams get Philiminated. I was in my jammies, in the bathroom, brushing my teeth and I heard Kiddo's door open.

Oh heck, thought I, PLEASE tell me she hasn't thrown up again.

Nope. Not barf.

"Mommy, my feet and ankles are SO itchy that I can't sleep and I can't stop scratching them!" says my poor, beleaguered child.

Indeed. I turned on the light in the hallway and I could instantly see the problem quite clearly.

Hives.

LOTS of hives.

EVERYWHERE from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.

Angry, red, worsening-by-the-second hives.

I immediately dove into the very-well-organized-now,-thanks-to-the-house-showing-thing medicine chest and pulled out a bottle of Benadryl. Uh-oh, not much left in this one. Poured her a teaspoon from the dregs of the bottle and gave it to her and then settled her back into bed and went downstairs to check the package insert info for the antibiotic Kiddo's been taking since Friday night. You know, the antibiotic for the sinus infection that was gooing up her eyes (so they'd crust shut - like the worst pinkeye you've ever seen, but not pinkeye) and her nose and face that were generally a disgusting mess... An antibiotic she's taken once before with no bad reactions. So, I pulled out the info sheet and whaddya know, hives could constitute a "severe allergic reaction" to this med.

Fanfreakingtastic.

I called up the after-hours answering service at 9:51. Well, *most* adults are still awake at this point, right? I mean, this isn't like I'm calling at 2 in the morning... Yes, I am rationalizing the decision to call the doctor to myself, don't ask me why. That's what they're there for, right? I explained the situation to the lady and she said "Oh YES, that is something the doctor will call you back for IMMEDIATELY!" Hmmm. I tried not to panic as I waited for the doctor to call back.

In doctor terms, as it turns out, "IMMEDIATELY!" equates to roughly 13 minutes. Not that I was counting. I used the meantime to go back upstairs and check on the hives situation. Still NOT good - even Kiddo's eyelids are hived over. I asked her questions to see if this is getting anaphylactic but she didn't report any itching in her mouth or throat and her tongue and lips weren't swelling. Finally, finally, the phone rings back.

It's Doctor Crotchety McGrump, he of the infamous Splinter Removal incident. Excellent. From the sounds of it, he went to bed as soon as Andy Rooney signed off, though maybe it's just that he always sounds that grouchy or maybe he remembers Kiddo, her volume level and her fierce kicking skillz. I didn't know and I didn't care. I gave him the rundown and he confirmed that yes, in fact, this does sound like a "severe allergic reaction" to the amoxicillin, even though Kiddo's been taking it for 2 days now. He tells me the hives could very well continue for another 3 to 4 days (!!) and she might also experience some swelling in her ankles, knees and any other joints (!!!) and I am to discontinue the antibiotic immediately (duh) and call the office in the morning for a new scrip. Oh, and I might have to add a second antihistamine to the Benadryl, too. I mused aloud about her returning to school tomorrow after hearing about all this and got an earful from Doc McGrump about how "Well, if she's itchy and uncomfortable, is she really going to LEARN anything?" Yeah, thanks for your two cents there, Doctor Spock. He does go on to suggest keeping her cool and lightly dressed and to use cool compresses as needed to help minimize the discomfort.

I hung up the phone and changed Kiddo out of her fleece jammies into a pair from last summer that were wedged at the way back of her pajama drawer. They're a little on the small side but not too tight, so we went with them. I got Kiddo re-settled into bed again (and by now the hives were abating a bit - at least her face was looking less red) and did a more thorough check of the medicine cabinet. Nope, those three drops are all we have left. I preceded to wake Hubby up to explain the situation, some of which he'd gathered from hearing the phone ring and my end of the conversation, and though he was dubious about an allergic reaction setting in two days later, he agreed to keep an ear out for Kiddo as I headed over to Walmart for another bottle of Benadryl.

Let me just pause in my tale of woe here for a brief moment to point out that even in my not-really-suited-for-going-out-in-public attire (stretched out, raggedy old yoga pants, a holey, oversized t-shirt that comes down almost to my knees, with a paint-spattered sweatshirt thrown over for decency's sake, blue crew socks I grabbed off the floor, beat up brown leather clogs and a sage green barn jacket to complete the ensemble), I was not the strangest dressed person at our local Walmart at 10:20 this evening. I didn't even rate a second look. Wow.

Anyhow, I grabbed a bottle of Benadryl and the other antihistamine too, since I was there. Of course I'll be back at a pharmacy tomorrow for Kiddo's new antibiotic, but whatever.

And here I am, home again, home again, jiggety jig. I'm totally wired now, and want to wait until it is time to give Kiddo her next breathing treatment with the inhaler (Doc McGrump said to continue that every 4 hours and that it might help with the hives, too) so I turned my computer back on and plunked myself down to whinge away on my blog.

In summary, OY!! Can this 24 hours PLEASE end SOON? I can't believe I'm looking forward to it being MONDAY. Bleargh! I just really, really hope that this reaction isn't indicative of a penicillin allergy, and instead was just because she's on a really strong dose (which was prescribed so she'd only need to take it twice a day, instead of a lesser dose 3 or 4 times a day). Penicillin allergies are a pain in the neck - I was allergic to penicillin as a kid but outgrew it, myself. So, fingers crossed this was an isolated incident and Kiddo is feeling much less itchy in the morning!!

/whinge

Happy Blogiversary to me!

Well, I'm sooooo close to my 300th blog post (!), which I'd thought I'd easily manage to time to fall on this, the one year anniversary of my blog. Then, Kiddo came down with what appears to be one nasty case of viral pneumonia (we've been to the doctor and had a chest x-ray, but beyond an albuterol inhaler - Kiddo's first - there isn't a heckuva lot that can be done for her since it is just the World's Most Persistent and Annoying Virus and therefore cannot be treated with a nice, strong antibiotic to knock it out of her system quickly), and my week just got away from me. Dagnabit.

So, post number 299 is going to have to suffice as the official Blogiversary post, but I'm going to postpone any serious partying until after all members of my household are healthy again. Stay tuned for that, and also for the upcoming debut of Carma's personal video. I've got the lyrics done, and just need to get my singing voice back enough to record the video. It's gonna be good, I think! *eyebrow wiggle* In the meantime, do me a favor and pop by Carma's blog and give her some comment loving, to help make up for the fact that this video is taking forever to get done. (And hint, hint - my Belated, Big Blogiversary Bash will very likely include another video giveaway...)

Now, as my blogiversary proper is today, I feel like I should do something to mark the day. I've decided that to celebrate the occasion, I will feature my first-ever guest blogger! Since she's home with me, that guest blogger is none other than my very own Kiddo. (Hey, the choices were either her, Crazy Cat or the Evil, Fat, Carny Fish. Trust me, you want neither fish pee water splashed upon you with a flourish, which is the best Swimmy could manage, nor a hairball gacked upon you, which is Crazy Cat's forte. I'd gladly have had George Clooney or Eddie Izzard or Hugh Jackman or perhaps Alan Rickman reciting an ode in my honor, but sadly, none of them returned my phone calls or emails or tweets. Humph.)

Here, therefore, is an interview about me (I mean, after all, this is my blog) as answered by Kiddo. I got the questions from an interview that's been floating around the blogosphere and Facebook as well. (On a side note, has anyone noticed the sudden explosion of memes and the like over on Facebook? It seems to be happening a lot more over there now, and I don't think it's just that I'm noticing it more with the really irritating new layout they've got going on...) Okay, here goes, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Kiddo!

1. What is something your mom always says to you?

“You are my Bug of Love.”

2. What makes your mom happy?

When I scratch her back. When Daddy comes home for family dinner. When I listen to Mommy and Daddy and to my teachers at school and have good days.

3. What makes your mom sad?

When I whine and when I have temper tantrums and I kick her.

4. How does your mom make you laugh?

Playing jokes on me, like hiding and surprising me. Also, when she tickles me. When we are having Opera Day and she sings in a silly voice.

5. What was your mom like as a child?

Mommy was the same as me. She was a funny kid, and a silly kid and a smart kid.

6. How old is your mom?

37. (Ed note: At least she got my age right and didn't say 73, like she did at church on my birthday.... And yes, I am a little bit afraid to do that "What's Your Real Age?" quiz over on Facebook, as I'm a little nervous it will tell me I am, in fact, 73 and not 37.)

7. How tall is your mom?

12 inches tall. No, wait, she is 130 inches tall, and Daddy is 131 inches tall because he is taller than Mommy.

8. What is her favorite thing to do?

Help me and play with me.

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?

Mommy feeds the cat and the fish, cleans my room and gets treats for me.

10. What is your Mom very good at?

Mommy is very good at Mario Kart Wii and catching me.

12. What is your mom not very good at?

Making omelets, Mommy burns them.

13. What does your mom do for her job?

Taking care of me. And Daddy. And the cat and the fish.

14. What is your mom's favorite food?
Raspberries, ice cream and Cheez Doodles but NOT pepperoni!

15. What makes you proud of your mom?

When Mommy wins at Mario Kart Wii.

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?

Belle, because Mommy looks like her and because Belle likes to read books all the time and so does Mommy. Also, Alicia from Diego because Mommy loves animals and would rescue them.

17. What do you and your mom do together?

Play together and sing songs and have Opera Day.

18. How are you and your mom the same?

We have the same eyes and we wear glasses and have brown hair. We are both silly. Our whole family is silly! And we both like to sing.

19. How are you and your mom different?

Mommy has black glasses and I have pink glasses. Mommy is a grown up so she is the boss, and I’m just the kid. When I’m a grown up, I’ll be the boss but I’ll be nice to everybody.

20. How do you know your mom loves you?

Mommy gives me hugs and kisses and takes care of me and calls me Bugaboo.

21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?

Disney World or New Jersey!

Well, what can I say? Kiddo has been sheltered from my love of all things George Clooney, also Las Vegas and Hawaii. So, I couldn't really expect her to say "George Clooney's Italian villa" or "Vegas, baby!" or "Hawaii - or alternatively, some lovely Caribbean isle..." And it is sadly quite true that I have zero skill at making a decent omelet. I cannot flip/fold an omelet without making a horrific mess and it does usually wind up burning. I am hopeless at omelet cooking. I can fry a mean egg though - sunny side up or down - and I make killer scrambled eggs.... well, nobody's perfect, right?

So, there you have it. My first ever guest blogger for my first ever Blogiversary. It is hard to believe that it has been a whole year since I first dipped my toe into the blogosphere, with nary a follower or a comment or blogging community. Now, I can't imagine my life without my blog and the blogosphere as a whole! I am so glad that my little blogging thing has led me to discover so many wonderful folks out there around the world, and I plan to celebrate that as part of my Belated, Big Blogiversary Bash. (Like I said, stay tuned!!) In the meantime, germ-free, great, big, giant, squeezy (((hugs))) to you all!

I'm still here...

Hey y'all... it seems a couple of you out there missed me, what with the not blogging for almost a week. Sorry! I didn't mean to utterly disappear like that. We've been so busy with painting, you have NO idea. Part of the painting required disconnecting the computers and internet so we could move things from one room to another. Yes, I even went for an entire day without access to the internet. *shudder* Yesterday, for example, we painted our bedroom. The bedroom with the vaulted ceiling and 15 foot high walls. This morning? I cannot raise my arms above my shoulders. Yee-OUCH. The good news is that with the exception of some trim areas and the inside of Kiddo's closet, the upstairs is ALL DONE. (And there was much rejoicing.) Also, Hubby busted out the paint downstairs over the weekend so the back hallway and downstairs bathroom are finished as well. All that remains ("all" - ha HA) is the stairway, front foyer, great room, kitchen and laundry room, then we're through with Paintathon '09 - Do it in the Winter When You Can't Properly Ventilate!.

In other news, Friday was Kiddo's Valentine's Day class party, followed by the big Valentine's Day dance that night. Despite it not starting until Kiddo's normal bedtime, and despite the price we knew we'd pay for letting Kiddo get off her schedule (have I mentioned that kids with SPD really don't do terribly well when they're off their routine? 'Cause they don't!!!), we let her go to the dance. She lasted for one fiercely-energy burning hour, during which she barely stopped moving as she whipped through her second, third and fourth winds, before she came over and actually asked us if she could go home and go to sleep. Also on Friday, we learned that we are the lucky family chosen to keep Mr. Bear for the winter break. You see, Mr. Bear is this teddy bear that visits with one child from Kiddo's kindergarten class each weekend. That child brings Mr. Bear with him/her for everything the family does and then documents all the excitement in Mr. Bear's journal, complete with photos, which then gets shared in school the following Monday. Mr. Bear comes with his own luggage, toothbrush, pillow and blanket and stuffed animal, along with a large wardrobe. We first had Mr. Bear over a weekend in November. To have Mr. Bear for a whole week (actually, NINE days) is a big deal for Kiddo. Mommy, however, was less than excited. That's a lot of adventures and documenting and such........ Kiddo has another cold right now, (Hubby has it too but so far I've avoided it *knock freshly painted wood*) so Mr. Bear's adventures have mainly been of the "sitting on the couch and watching March of the Penguins or playing quietly in Kiddo's room" variety. Hopefully we'll get to do something fun that doesn't involve paint rollers before the week is out. We didn't "do" Valentine's Day this year, swimming as we were in five gallon buckets of Soft Ecru, but such is life. Kiddo did bring us each home a chocolate heart from her day with her grandparents, who so very graciously and kindly picked her up yesterday at a little after nine and kept her until late afternoon. Oh, and here's something: the people right across the street from us just put their house on the market yesterday. Their house is smaller than ours by about 100 square feet, has no basement (it's a split level - oooh, sorry, a "contemporary raised ranch" according to their real estate agent) and has only a one car garage, and their lot, while the same size as ours, backs up to another street of houses whereas ours backs up to a pond and woods, yet they've listed it at the same price we were planning to list ours for once we're all done with the freshening up. Hmmm. Not sure if our real estate agent will want to raise the price on ours by a bit (we've got the two car garage, the extra 100 square feet, the full basement, better positioned lot and have a colonial instead of a split level) or if he'll want to list at our originally intended price, thereby making our house the better option of the two on the street...

So, that's me. Woozy from paint fumes, fairly sick of soft ecru, and wishing the Paint Fairy would turn up and wave her magic wand so that we didn't have to paint the two-story foyer or 16-foot high great room walls. (Suddenly, I'm much less enamored of our cathedral ceilings....)

I shall leave you with a few pictures from the past few days, and a hearty recommendation as well.

Here are a few of Kiddo (and Mr. Bear, who was her date) from the dance on Friday night:







This is Mr. Bear hanging with Kiddo's Stuffed Animal Entourage. He's the one reclining against her pillow. (Yes, she has way, way, way too many stuffed animals. We know. Also, each and every one of those stuffed animals has a name, and I know them all. No wonder I can't remember simple things like the three items I went to the grocery store for - my brain is FULL!) Note that he is in his jammies. He doesn't actually sleep in bed with her, but rather on the floor next to her bed.



And this is the recommendation. If you ever have to move ANY piece of furniture, run down to Walmart or Target or wherever you can and buy yourself some of these:



They make moving furniture (like a queen-size bed and two completely full dressers) a total breeze. Like I moved our bed around the room by myself. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy! (We didn't even buy this official "As Seen on TV" brand, but rather the knock-off brand available at Wally World. Still worked like a dream!)

And now, I'm off to eat my oatmeal and figure out what to paint next.....................

Friday Foto Fun: Follicular Follies

Hello, hello world! It feels like forever since I've been here! I've been buried under a mountain of boxes and used Puffs Pluses for the past few days, as I tried to continue with Operation Declutter around the home-from-school Kiddo, who has one heckuva bad cold. I know, I know, it seems like she is always sick, but actually she's staying healthy for much longer stretches than she used to when she was younger. I don't know if it is because of the circumstances of her premature, complicated birth or what, but she does manage to pick up a lot of germs. One of these days, I'll finally get a patent for my stylish yet functional Biohazard Bubble suit and then I'll be able to retire with my wads of cash to my private, tropical isle without fear of anyone ever catching another germ again. Until that day, though, I gamely troop on, Vicksing soles and humidifying rooms, steaming congested heads in the shower and squirting saline spray up Niagara Fallsian nostrils, losing game after game of Mario Kart Wii (yes, even when under the weather, Kiddo still kicks my sorry behind at All Things Wii) and fixing bowl after bowl of chicken noodle soup.

The good news is that Kiddo was able to return to school today, and thus life returned to normal, or whatever it is that approximates normal in my life these days... So anyhow, sorry I've been a bad blogoshpere citizen and haven't been leaving loads of comments or posting merrily away, I'm still here, just a wee bit crazed of late.

Before I return once more to my Mountain of Boxes, I will give you a little piece of Friday Foto Fun. You may recall, I have had hair issues pretty much my whole life. You may further recall my ongoing struggle to grow out the Mom 'Do. (Yes, I know, my hair is pretty much always a Hair Don't no matter what I try...) Well, it seems that I've finally, finally passed the stages of Wolverine Fawcett-Von Beethoven *and* Carol Brady. (And there was much rejoicing: yay.) Here's what it looks like as of this morning:



(Yes, I slapped on a little eyeliner and tinted lip gloss prior to photographing myself. I was feeling kind of icky following this morning's torture session - I mean Zumba class - and wanted to look spiffy for y'all. That's not blusher on my cheeks, either, by the way - just a combination of leftover redfacedness from working out and then walking all the way across the Y parking lot in the stinging, windblown snow. Brrr. Oh no, wait, I mean that's just my natural, youthful, rosy glow... *snort*) (Oh, and see that blank wall right behind me? A week ago, there was a jammed-full-of-stuff bookcase in that spot. Go, Operation Declutter!)

Okay, so I no longer can lay claim to being the illegitimate love child of Wolverine, Farrah and Ludwig. (I'm not a geneticist; you figure out how 2XY+1XX = 1 ilc......) Now I seem to have mid-90s, midsize market News Anchor hair going on instead. Woot. I'm in dire need of a trim again (as evidenced by my vision-impairing bangs) and have been feeling sorely tempted to just cut it all off again. (Chorus of screams: NOOOOOOOO! Don't!!!) (Or should I? Hmmmm.) I'm hoping that it is long enough now that when I do finally get around to going to the hair stylist, she can give me something more closely resembling an actual style, because as you can see above, I still have the dreaded Mom 'Do. Oh well, at least it isn't winging out all over anymore! If anyone has any thoughts on the topic, feel free to share.....

So that's what's going on in my neck of the woods. I have like half a dozen posts in draft form about all sorts of scintillating topics like Lost, American Idol, the aforementioned Zumba class and my ongoing adventures in the ladies' locker room at the Y, but right now, I must be getting back to my boxes - I want to get another load ready to haul off to the storage unit before Kiddo gets home from school. I am going to leave with you with the following video clip, because I've got Latin music on the mind after Zumba this morning and because it's almost Valentine's Day..... Enjoy The One Semester of Spanish Spanish Love Song:



Au revoir!

When urban legends are true

As any of you who have read my blog in the past week are aware, Kiddo has RSV. With the RSV has come thick-n-plentiful congestion and a frequent cough. I'd posted about this on my Facebook status the day before yesterday (because if one is going to whinge on about something, one might as well whinge on in any available forum, eh? I Twittered about it too...). Within an hour, I had no less than three of my friends reply to my FB status update to suggest that I rub Vicks on the soles of Kiddo's feet at bedtime.

Now, I'd heard of this practice before and dismissed it pretty much out of hand. I mean, when I was a kid, sure, Mom would slather my throat and chest with Vicks (then wrap a dishtowel around my neck, safety-pinned at the back, under my jammies) whenever I had a bad chest cold/cough. But that makes some amount of sense, what with the vapors having good proximity to the breathing and all. How on earth could having Vicks on the bottom of one's feet be beneficial, if one sleeps like a normal human (or even like Kiddo, with her various contortions and shiftings about in her sleep) and not pretzeled up like some master yoga practitioner?? Plus, the instructions include covering the Vicks-slathered feet with socks (for bed linens-protection purposes) which adds a further layer of vapor-blocking to the enterprise.

But still, THREE people. Three mothers who I find to be not only quite sane, but utterly trustworthy, no less. All three of them were telling me of their first-hand experience doing this and swearing to me that this Vicks-on-feet thing worked. I told Hubby about it, and he scoffed. I told him I thought I might try it, and he rolled his eyes and scoffed further, then remarked that it would "ruin the bedding" before considering the matter closed. I googled it and proceeded to read the Snopes article (oh Snopes, how I adore thee and thy debunking ways) which didn't give a solid confirmation or denial. I clicked back to my google search results and proceeded to read blog after blog after message board after message board post about how mom after mom tried this with much success. (Of course no one hopped onto the interwebz to announce they'd tried this method and found it to be full of hooey....) It sure seemed like a lot of anecdotal evidence... I considered the idea some more.

When I announced my intention to Vicksify her feet at Kiddo's bedtime, Hubby threw his hands up and shook his head, as Hubby is wont to do when I'm on to one of my "crazy schemes", but I persisted. I slathered the bottoms of Kiddo's feet with Vicks (well, actually, with Generic Mentholated Rub Goo) and double-socked them, just to be sure that the linens and vast horde of stuffed animals that share Kiddo's bed wouldn't be too camphortastic come morning. We also ran the cool mist humidifier (set to "tropical rainforest") with the Vicks scented pad thingy in the holder for additional mentholated effect. Hubby was rather skeptical, and to be honest, so was I, but I figured it wasn't going to hurt anything, except maybe a stuffed animal or twelve who might need a bath come morning.

Kiddo fell asleep. Time ticked by. Nary a cough sounded from her room. I was up until almost midnight (thanks to an afternoon nap that threw my schedule totally off) and still, not a cough. Kiddo is an impressive cougher, too - it rings out through the house, reverberating off the walls in such a manner as to make our house seem like one of those sanitarium tuberculosis wards of old. All I heard was silence. I checked on her before turning in at twelve. Sleeping soundly and breathing pretty well (she was snoring, as she does whenever she's congested). Hmmmm.

This morning, Kiddo woke us up shortly after seven. Not by coughing up a lung, mind you, but by scampering into our room, relatively bright eyed and bushy tailed. Well, bushy haired at any rate - the kid does an awesome "bed head" look, even with her hair secured in a pony tail or braids before sleep. No coughing. None. Her nasal congestion also was markedly improved - I did the "squirt squirt" routine (nasal saline spray and much nose blowing) with her this morning and there was hardly anything produced compared to the floods of ick that scoffed at the Puffs Plus and exploded over my hand of yesterday.

Now, it is entirely possible that this is all coincidental, that Kiddo would've been this much improved without any wacky old wives'-urban legend remedy. Hubby thinks it was just the added presence of vapors in the room and posited that had I done as my mother did and rubbed it onto Kiddo's chest/throat instead, it would've worked as well if not better than the feet. Hmmmm. All I know is that 24 hours ago I was thinking there was no way Kiddo was going to be healthy enough to go back to school tomorrow, and now today? I totally think she could. She has no fever, hardly any congestion, and has only coughed once since she woke up. We're staying home again today and having one more day of "taking it easy" just to be safe, but all signs point to YES on the return to school, and you'd better believe I'm rejoicing over that.

Either way, you can be darn sure I'm going to Vicks her feet again tonight!

Step right up, spin the wheel...

I swear sometimes it feels like taking a kid to the doctor's office is like spinning the Great, Big Wheel o' Diseases.......


This time around, the wheel landed on RSV. Yee-ha. The good news is that as of today, Kiddo's lungs are clear, so there's no sign of pneumonia or bronchial infection. We have to keep an eye - or more accurately, an ear - on her and if we think her breathing is getting worse, wheezy or if the cough worsens, we have to bring her back. Otherwise, treatment doesn't include any wonder drugs, since it is a virus and all, but rather the good old Mentholated Rainforest. Hubby is scrubbing out the humidifier and I bought more of the Vicks pads for the vaporizer, and Kiddo is steaming in the shower even as I type...

Oh, so the weird doctors' office closing thing? I had made an appointment at the Urgent Care center, but the only one of the centers that was seeing peds patients was the one across town in a rather rough neighborhood. I wasn't thrilled about that but wanted Kiddo to be seen, so I was going to suck it up and take her. Just as we were leaving the house, the phone rang. I almost didn't answer but thank goodness I did, because it was Kiddo's pediatrician's office saying they'd reopened and could see her in half an hour. Woo! When we got there, I asked the receptionist why they had closed. "Mercury spill" was her answer. Before I could ask for further details, another woman behind the counter shot the receptionist a warning look, as if they weren't supposed to be spilling the details about the spill. So, who knows? Perhaps a sphygmonometer burst or something (don't those still have mercury in them?)... At any rate, we wound up getting to see Kiddo's actual pediatrician so that was all good. I think I survived the brainwashing effects of the various hold musics at the various medical offices - I was on hold for aeons both to make and then cancel the Urgent Care appointment and I swear there are subliminal messages broadcast in the Muzak...

Anyhow, we've spun the wheel and gotten our diagnoses o' the day. As long as it doesn't evolve into any chest infection, Kiddo should be back to 100% in short order. Of course, with RSV being as crazy contagious as it is, Kiddo could very easily pick it up again at school next week... The doctor said that as long as she is fever free and feeling all right, she can go as early as Monday. We shall see (is it wrong that my fingers are a little bit crossed in the hope that she'll be fine by then?)...!

And that's the update from the Mentholated Rainforest here in the snowy, frozen expanse of upstate New York! We may be stuck here in our patheticicity (thanks Texan Mama!) but at least we have a George Clooney DVD courtesy of the local Redbox machine to watch tonight! (Burn After Reading - totally wanted to see it in the theater, of course never had the chance, and way excited to be watching it tonight. I'm even caffeinating just in case so I can stay awake!)

Wake me when it is 2010, part deux

So, apparently when we were down in NJ visiting my family (along with that day trip into NYC using many forms of public transportation and bumping through crowds of tens upon thousands of people), we all picked up a germ or three. First it was me sneezing and sneezing and aching and aching and having *no* energy pretty much from Sunday on until this morning. Kiddo started earlier this week with some impressive but not terribly frequent nasal emissions. Yesterday, Hubby started with the sneezing and the runny nose and overnight, added a headache to the mix, while Kiddo started running a low grade fever and added a cough to the repertoire. Not to be outdone, my germs opted to zero in on the throat region, setting my entire throat from tonsils back on fire and making swallowing uncomfortable at best, fairly agonizing at worst. This morning, Kiddo further upped the ante by having her cough evolve from a dry, occasional thing into a horribly tubercular, wet, breath-stealing, nonstop hacking fiesta. Given our combined state of utter patheticalness (yes I just made that word up), we felt it wisest to cancel our plans for yesterday and lay low. Given our worsening state of utter pathetictude (yep, another one) this morning, I canceled our plans for today and just called the pediatrician's office.

Now, our pediatrician's office opens at 8:30am. I began dialing my way through the automated menu system at 8:29 so that I could be one of the first calls answered by a real, live person. (This works better some days than others - I have been stuck in the auto-hold chain for over 10 minutes in the past.) This morning, I was talking to a real, live person by 8:31. That was the good news. The not-quite-so-good news is that the first appointment Kiddo's doc had available isn't until 11:45 this morning. Guess we aren't the only germy folks in town (even if our germs are of a more exotic, imported, New Jerseyan/New York Cityean variety).

Kiddo is now tucked into my bed, where she is hacking and coughing germs all over my pillows and linens. (Note to self: change bedding before climbing back into bed tonight.) She's running a fever so she is pretty low energy, which she appears to be trying to conserve for the aforementioned coughing bouts. Hubby sniffled and sneezed his way off to work today, returning who knows how late tonight as it is his first day back in the office since before Christmas. (He worked from home over the holidays, including while we were in NJ, but that doesn't help with all the mail etc that accumulates when one isn't physically in the office...) I hopped in the shower as soon as I pulled the thermometer out of Kiddo's mouth in anticipation of being asked "Can you bring her in right now?" which actually only ever happens if I *haven't* anticipated that. Hmmm, maybe I should've just stayed in my jammies in order to ensure a first-thing-come-right-away opening. My bad.

To sum up, we are a generally pathetic bunch here in my family today. I just hope that Kiddo doesn't have anything serious (various relatives with whom we broke bread and shared air over the holidays are now on various antibiotics for their various ills, any combo of which we may be brewing up here right now) and that whatever she has is sufficiently in hand before school starts on Monday. Because (guilty, bad Mommy confession coming up here) I was rather looking forward to Monday, with normal life resuming and Kiddo going back to school and such. Not that I don't love playing Sorry, Trouble or Connect 4 for hours, really. Nor do I mind letting Kiddo pretend she is a dog and feeding her as she sits under the table, barking and pawing at my leg. I enjoy having everyone home and together, really. I truly do. I just was looking forward, just the tiniest little bit, to getting back to Life As Usual. In the meantime, I just hope that, along with Kiddo - and Hubby! - getting better quickly, that I don't get worse myself, because we all know, mommies can't get sick....

In other virus-related-esque news, after reading blog post after blog post about folks having horrendous computer crashes and losing all their files, I am very relieved that Hubby just signed us up for an online back-up service, which will automatically back up everything for us, including my (literally tens of thousands of) pictures and videos and everything - even my iTunes collection. Whew. It's doing the initial back up now, which is slowing both of our computers down, but once the initial back up is done, it should be an invisible and painless process.

Time to brew myself a cup of tea and make something for Kiddo for breakfast. Hoping everyone else is less germy and blah than our patheticocity here! (Woo, the made up word trifecta!)

RANDOM AND WEIRD UPDATE: Okay, just as I was spellchecking (go made up words!) and getting ready to hit publish on this, the phone rang. Twas the doctors' office calling, so as I answered, I was totally thinking "Woo-hoo, they had a cancellation and can see us earlier!" as this has happened in the past. Nope. Totally, completely NOPE. Instead of getting to go in earlier, the receptionist said "I need to cancel Kiddo's appointment. We've been told we need to close the office and leave the building immediately." Whaaaa?!?!?! I asked her why that was and she didn't know. All she knew was that they were closing immediately for an unknown period of time. She said my options were either to wait and see if they are able to open tomorrow morning or take Kiddo to an Urgent Care center instead. So, so weird. I wonder what the heck is going on that they have to close the building.....? The doctors' office is in a complex of medical buildings, so it seems like it could be any number of things. Hubby guessed it was some sort of landlord-tenant issue to which I said "Huh?" because that seemed like a much more farfetched guess than my immediate thoughts about some sort of plague outbreak (Ebola, anyone? I mean, who's to say that someone didn't visit some much more exotic location than NJ over the holidays, bringing back much more exotic germs than ours?) or more likely, a water main break or heating issue or something that requires power to be shut off to the building...

At any rate, I now have to wait until 11 and call the UC clinic to see if I can get Kiddo in there instead. Whee.

Edited: A public restroom nightmare

(I have decided, upon hearing that folks might be linking to this tale of woe, to break out the two very different topics into two separate posts. 'Cause I'm guessing the folks that might want to actually - oh dear me - read this bit might not be so interested in the goings-on of our fight with the school district. That portion will now be in its own post below this one.)

In other news, that norovirus? So not good for being out in public. (WARNING: THIS IS ABOUT TO GET GORY. CONSIDER YOURSELVES WARNED - THOSE WITH MORE DELICATE SENSIBILITIES MAY WANT TO STOP READING RIGHT ABOUT NOW.) You see, I had to make a quick stop at the grocery store on my way home from the meeting, to restock on bananas, saltines, chicken broth and ginger ale. Kiddo's only in-town grandma had come over to watch her so we could go to the meeting, and I wanted to take advantage and not have to take Kiddo out with her fever - especially in the ridiculous snow showers we had this morning - for supplies later on in the day.

So there I was, attempting to zip quickly through the store for those few items I needed, none of which, of course, are located anywhere near each other. (They need to rethink how they stock grocery stores: the Stomach Bug Aisle, for example, with the ginger ale, saltines and broth, and the Head Cold aisle, with the Puffs Plus and the Nyquil and the Throat Coat tea, oh and then the PMS aisle, with the Midol and the chocolate and the Cheez Doodles... THAT would be a dream shopping scenario, dontcha think?) It was hard to "zip" when I was being bent double by abdominal cramping every thirty seconds or so. Eventually, and of course while I was at the furthest possible point from the bathrooms, I had to make a call: Can I make it home to the sanctity of my own bathroom, or should I make a run for the bathrooms in the store? Not wanting to explode in my car on the way home (as I wasn't wearing my Oops, I Crapped my Pants undies today*), I decided to take a quick stroll up to the public bathrooms.

Now, I am pretty sure we've all been there - when you have to make a visit to the restroom even though you'd really rather save such business for the privacy of your own home. (We all have been there, haven't we? Tell me I'm not the only one who's had to face this horrible situation...) I had my fingers crossed that the bathroom would be devoid of other women. I lucked out in that regard. Alas, this was just a three-seater, not the more preferable many stalled, easier-to-hide sized bathroom. I thought for a fleeting second of using the family bathroom, but having been in need of that room for changing a squirmy baby myself in days gone by and having been stymied by a non-family-type-person using it, forcing me to have to change the squirming baby elsewhere, I opted to suck it up and deal with the more public women's room. (Okay, I lied. I only didn't use it because it was already occupied. I would totally have used that one if it had been open. Not only for the privacy, but I figured I could at least blame any soon-to-be-happening funk on the diapers in the trash can. Sue me.) I shut myself in a stall and began praying that I would finish with my funking before any other wayward woman wandered in for a hand-washing or something.

And funk it up I did. It was one of those terrible, horrible, no-way-to-disguise-what-was-transpiring sort of funkings. There was noise, there was odor. Sweet fancy Moses, was there odor. There were not enough courtesy flushes in the world to stop or even sufficiently quash the odor or sounds blasting forth. Unfortunately, my bowels had apparently decided to open up some portal of Hell, and things went on in this loud and odoriferous way for waaaay longer than I'd hoped. It seemed like hours, though in actuality it was less than ten minutes. Once, I heard the door to the restroom squeak open, but apparently that woman took one whiff and opted to hold it 'til she got home. Then, a few moments later, the door opened again. This time, someone dared enter. She used the stall next to me, and then took her time with washing her hands and fluffing her hair in the mirror. I could see a teensy sliver of her through the crack in the door - she was an older woman, and so I hoped she was hard of both hearing and smelling. As she tossed her paper towel into the trash and secured her plastic head kerchief under her chin, she muttered "Whew, that's bad." and then made her escape. Great. Now I had to deal with Walking Out of the Bathroom Post-Funking. I, the Funker. As soon as it seemed safe to stand and move on with the Walk of Shame, I did so. As I flushed for the last time, another person walked in to the bathroom. Great - now what? Stay hiding in the stall and wait her out, or just walk out of the stall and pretend that the smell preceded my arrival? I opted to wait for her to enter a stall, then zipped out, washed my hands and BOLTED from the bathroom.

I think I'm going to start carrying one of these around in my purse at all times... though today's Funking probably would've laughed at the tiny cloud emitted by a one ounce spray can. I'd probably need the jumbo size - gonna have to get myself a bigger purse! In the meantime, I'm just glad there are other grocery stores in near enough proximity to my house. I figure in another year or so, I'll be brave enough to return to shop at the one I Funked today.

In less disgustingly detailed news, I was wiped out when I got home from the meeting and the shopping/funking trip. So wiped out that I let Kiddo watch the new Tinkerbell DVD (thanks Redbox!) twice in a row so I could curl up on the couch under a couple of fleece throw blankets and the cat and moan quietly. So wiped out that Kiddo and I both fell asleep for about 40 minutes this afternoon. So wiped out that I don't know if I'll make it until 9pm to watch Heroes tonight... But I sure darn well am going to try! (Kiddo, on the other hand, was miraculously rejuvenated by her 40ish minute nap and is still awake in her room, an hour after her bedtime, and apparently arranging some sort of birthday party for one of her stuffed animals by flashlight...)

So, that's the update from here. I swear to you (anyone who may still be reading at this point, that is) that starting tomorrow, this blog will go back to being bodily-explosion-description FREE. Promise!






*

Monday, Monday

Sorry my blog has turned into a bit of a whinefest of late. I swear that it will perk up as soon as I get over this dang norovirus, Kiddo gets better (she spiked a fever again last night and is threatening to throw up, so is staying home today) and we get through the meeting we have at 8:30 this morning at school.

If this were any other meeting, I would be canceling it and staying home, in bed, where I belong. However, considering the amount of difficulty we had in getting this meeting set up with all the necessary players, there is no way on God's green earth that I'm canceling it just because I feel craptastic. We've got many, many issues to discuss, including last Friday's new bomb - the principal called me on Friday to say Kiddo's newly hired aide quit. Something about the pay being barely above minimum wage and the lack of benefits and her finding a position that, you know, pays something more livable and has benefits. So, yeah, we've got things to discuss... Hubby is going to the meeting as well, and he may have to lead the charge with things (he printed off all the various sections of the state law where it says when the school is supposed to have finished things and put things into effect to be compliant with an IEP) as my head is feeling milliseconds away from splitting in two.

I'm just hoping I don't explode in any figurative or literal sense during the meeting. Wish me luck!