ack! ... ~gasp~

Air!  I need air!  Someone quick, pass me my oxogen tank...  ~gasp~

Sorry, I just... feel insane today or something.  Sick kid 2.0 (or is the is 3.0, wasn't B just sick.. yea so this makes 3).  My house is a mess, I have another paper to write on Lear - I did two yesterday and couldn't make myself stay up any later to write another quality paper...  in fact, one I did was NOT quality.  That's a *shame rally.  

*here's freudian, I almost wrote 'sham'.  

Dinner is not planned at all....  Tomorrow is Halloween and I'd like to have a nice fun day... which includes carving pumpkins as soon as the kids get off the bus because we haven't done a single one and we have FIVE to carve!  I love carving pumpkins normally, but this year I just haven't done anything with it.  arg!

The new Man in my life... Rory

Oh, Rory.  I love him.  He's sleek, black and sexy, and he makes the cutest little sound when he starts his day.  What more could a woman want in her iRobot?

I don't have time to post- I'm mad busy today reading F'ing King Lear (I LOVE LIT class, does it show?) and trying to cook and clean up the house a bit b/c it looks crazy, keep one eye on B and fit in my daily stuff.  Yea, so I just wanted to tell you all that Rory (our iRobot) is awesome!  Even H is coming around.  It vacuums and THEN it puts itself away!  If only there were more things in my life that did that... (put themselves away AND vacuum).  Everyone needs one of these.

I have arrived...

Remember in Highlights Magazine, when we were all in about the 2nd or 3rd grade, and it said, "By the year 1998 most American Households will have a robot helping them clean."  Followed the next month by, "Scientists believe that in 2004 space travel could be open to the public."???  (i'm really dating myself here, huh?)

Well, today I bought my first iRobot.  I haven't decided what to name him yet, but I now have a little robot who vacuums on a schedule, and is "smart" enough not to fall down stairs.  H is skeptical and thinks I just spent $340 for a top of the line cat toy.  Only time will tell...

My Normal Day

5:07am- my first alarm goes off, H gets her and puts her in bed with us.  This is not normal, but she's bloodied and bruised and I think she just bumped her nose on her sheets b/c she went right to sleep on my arm.

5:45am- G's fever is so high that he arrives in our room hallucinating about ticks all over his body.  We get him calmed down and back in bed.

6:20am - my alarm goes off.

6:25am- C's alarm goes off.

6:26am- snooze goes off.

6:45am- H rolls out of bed when he realizes that I am pinned neatly beneath B and have not chosen to dislodge her.  He's beginning to realize that he has to get C off to school.  I cannot.  Rule #1 from Friends- Never wake a sleeping Baby.

7:14am- the bus driving down our street wakes B.  (keep in mind she's slept through G, 3 alarms, 2 snoozes and a conversation w/ H about what to give C for lunch... but a bus in the street wakes her up.)

7:55am- Daily call to/from Ann, arrange walk time.  (walk is set for 10am)

8:00am-9:00am- coffee, breakfast, check blogs, change bandages, dispense motrin, check online bill pay, look at weather, 1 small tantrum over the merits of yogurt versus pudding for breakfast.

9:00 - 10:00am - laundry, change sheets where needed, straighten bathroom, check Fly Lady and see if there's anything on the daily list that I can accomplish- low and behold, there is, so I do it.  Dress 3 people & 2 dogs for a walk.  1 small tantrum over the benefits of wearing a jacket.

10:01am - undress the limping dog and apologize to her as I lock her in her crate.

10:02am - try to leave for the walk.

10:03am- return to house, again, give broken dog a cookie and get a package of saltines for sick child.

10:04am- return to house for 1 more blanket for sick child.

10:05am- 10:45am - walk Dog 1 and 2 kids.  Damn, the stroller is heavy.

11am- write a list for Costco and pick up the keys.

11:30am- finally depart for Costco after changing diaper, moving laundry and digging up costco card.

12:50pm - return from Costco, walk in the door to remember the ONE thing that wasn't on the list that we needed.

1:00pm- put B down for a nap and start a movie for G.

1:01pm- sit down to take a short break to read more of Twelfth Night and organize paper #15 (seriously, paper #15 is not an exaggeration, & we're 8 weeks into the semester).

1:05pm- break is over... H is on his way home to "work from home".  Carp.  I need to at least clean up the breakfast dishes...

1:10 - 2:20 - clean up, watch a few minutes of movie, check e-mail, reply to e-mail, find a new blog... uh oh, like I needed another new blog to follow.

2:20pm - bus is here

2:25pm - 5:00pm - wash hands, start on homework, have snack, get the B up from her nap, reapply bandages, check fever, dispense medication, H arrives around 3:30, take B and C out to play for 20 minutes, 1 small tantrum over gum.

5:20pm - dinner (chicken, salad, wheat rolls if anyone wondered what a normal meal is like around here...).  1 small tantrum over the need to have dinner on the table instantly... as if I also didn't wish I could just wave a wand.

6:00pm - clean up, wash the baby, review anything I need to review for class.

7 - 9pm - KARATE

9:30pm, arrive home, dessert, water, write 1st paper on Twelfth Night, outline 2nd paper and check e-mail... 

Before bed I like to reflect on the day.  Today my reflection was how "normal" it almost was.  No, it's not normal.  I didn't work today, so there was at least one person missing from my day.  I was supposed to have 2 extra babies and no sick kid today, but it is what it is in that regard.  It's not like you can will your child's fever to drop 4 degrees.  Wouldn't that be a trick...   "And now... you will be well... because I willed it so."  He's not going to school tomorrow either.  And, since I'm being honest with myself, he's not going on Friday either.  Tonight he was violently shivering and sweating when I left for class, balled up on the couch under 2 blankets.  Poor kid.  But you know what... I wished for a day where I didn't call the Dr., or the Dentist... and I didn't have to do either.  I wished for a 'normal' day with minimal tears, and I got that too.  Other than the "Covered in Tick" episode at 5:45, today was relatively "not strange".

Oh wait- how cute.  B is talking in her sleep in the monitor right now... OMG- she's asking for gum!!!  Figures.

dull is sometimes good

And I started today with such high hopes for an average dull normal day.  I did.  I was lying in bed, toasty and warm.  My H got up when his alarm went off (which never happens) and the kids also were stirring down the hall.  C arrived in our room dressed for the day, checked in and headed down to breakfast, and G arrived dressed as well... with a raging fever.  I could feel the heat radiating off him before my hand even made contact.  So here's what an amazing mother I am... (not really)...  H says, "if his fever is over 100, are you going to give him something?", to which I replied, "I can already tell you his fever is about 102, and yes.  Let me go check it with the thermometer first."  102*.  Damn.  I'm that good.

So, I give him his Motrin, set him up in my bed with a movie, a bottle of water and instructions to drink it all, and come downstairs to babysit all day.  I woke up with the urge to clean.  (WHICH NEVER HAPPENS) so I cleaned out the primary junk drawer (sadly we have more than 1) and started working around the kitchen.  Then around 9:30 the weather was finally warm enough to take the girls outside.  

Still in the mood to clean, I raked the backyard (all 12 sq. feet) and bagged the leaves.  Then I picked up the phone, which was on the deck, to call the pediatrician about G.  It's now almost 11:30.  Everyone's having a fun time playing together.  I'm watching B walk through the doorway from the garage to the backyard.  There's a small step, maybe 6 inches down to the walkway from the door to the deck steps... she's negotiated this step about 687 times in the past 3 months... and at this moment, the day which had been going so well, completely unwound.

B's shoes got "tangled" up on themselves... that is to say, her left foot got hung up behind her right foot.  She was holding a toy (as babies do) and she didn't drop it to catch herself as she fell that 6 inch drop onto the pavement... and landed on her face, mouth first.

As a scream erupted through her parted lips, blood exploded from her mouth.  It was instantly covering her, the sidewalk, me as I rushed her inside to throw an cold wet paper towel against it so I could inspect the damage.  Oh *($)!  Her front tooth is chipped and her mouth is a bloody mess.  I couldn't even see anything for more than 2 or 3 seconds between swipes with the cloth.  I picked up the phone, that i had discarded on the deck, and tried to dial my Pediatrician.  No dial tone.  As in.... Verizon wasn't sending a dial tone to my house.... as in...  no phone service.  I was moving a little slow.  Mentally that is.... in the meantime the world was moving at high speed.  I grabbed my cell and called my Pediatrician, who said hang up and call the dentist "and THEN call us back".  So I called the dentist's "tooth hotline" who patched me right through to "a knowledgeable tech" who talked me down and transfered me back to reception to make an apt for later...  all while B is FREAKING OUT at the top of her lungs.  She wouldn't allow me to put ice on it, so she crawled (blood trail, I'm not kidding) into the bathroom and hid "behind" the pedestal sink.  

Eventually, an hour later I was sitting on my couch, with sleeping B sitting on my lap with an ice pack resting against her mouth.  Barely touching it really.  The phone rings.  My Pediatric dentist office calling me back to remind me to check to see if B's on the policy.  Well F*&*(!  No, I didn't even think of that.  No that is not what I said.  Instead I think I mumbled something about thanks for thinking of that because I sure wasn't.  So I called the insurance company.  She's not on the policy.  Open enrollment starts on Monday.  The 27th.  We can add her after the 27th.  OH.  Um.  OK.  I guess that's why we have a flexible spending account.

Her tooth is "OK".  It might or might not fall out later.  Depends on how deep the trauma goes.

  // I can tell you how deep the trauma goes.  It's definitely a 2 glass of wine plus optional therapy from a trained counselor "trauma".  Oh, nerve trauma... right. // 

OK, so then he tells me the mouth isn't that bad, her gums are in "good shape" for the amount of face trauma he sees.  The worst of it came out of the nose.  The nose will take a few weeks to heal, but the Dentist thinks the mouth will be healed by next Monday or so.

And, it turned out only to cost $55.  (Mentally I was bracing for $200.  Now, do any of you have pets?  If this had happened to a dog, don't you bet a $200 bill would have come out of that vets office?  I'm just suspicious now about vets... that's all.  I didn't mean to get off track again.)

H is at the Pediatricians office right now.  Hopefully they'll be arriving home shortly with good news.  I just want to feed & bathe the kids, put them all to bed, and go to bed.  When I wake up tomorrow I want to have a nice normal day.  Did you hear that God?  Normal.  NORMAL.  No dr's, no dentists, no emergency hotline calls, no insurance company calls... nothing.  Dull even.  Yes. Dull.  That's the goal.

"And by next Monday we'll all be sick..."

An actual quote.  I said it, on Thursday when it was almost 90*, and then the temperature plummeted and the boys went camping and what... what was I thinking when I flipped that comment off the tip of my tongue?  Because today Gregory has a fever of 102*.  Poor kid is just miserable.... and all because I couldn't keep my comments to myself (germs have nothing on the power of a mother who jinx's her kid).

Rinse and Repeat

This post has nothing to do with shampoo.  Or conditioner.  But you know how the side of the bottle of shampoo gives a set of instructions and it never fails that it says, "rinse and repeat"? Yea, I always wondered if they meant "repeat RIGHT NOW if your hair isn't perfectly clean" or if they meant, "And tomorrow you should repeat because you hair will be dirty again."  Yea, these are the deep thoughts that haunt me day in and day out.

Rinse and Repeat.  Well, that's how my run today went.  I did it.  Technically it's done.  Now, I need to repeat.  

At the end of 11.9 miles I was so drained that I couldn't put one foot in front of the next.  I felt sick and washed out.  After the run I got back to my car and started to shiver.  By the time I got home I was almost in a state of shock and couldn't stop shaking.  Thank God it was time for B to have a nap, because I picked her up from her sitter, fed her lunch and put her down.  I took a hot shower and got in bed for an hour.  I could not move.  My body ached.  Like the flu.  Not "my leg muscles are sore", but "I am one giant weak sore muscle".  It was pitiful.  As a good friend of mine said a few weeks ago, I needed someone to say, "Poor poor g.".

This is so crazy, because at the end of 10.5 last week I felt champion.  Like I could have run... no, OK, maybe not "...could have run 5 more miles", but definitely I felt good enough to have run another mile w/o breaking down or anything.  Today I think I could have broken down if I had tried to go any further.  And even after my shower I felt washed out.  Not in a good way either.

Next week I'm going to repeat 12.  I have to.  HAVE TO.  Because I need to know mentally that I can accomplish 12 so I know that I can ROCK on 13.1m.  

Now, to my running partner.  You know those people who are lovely no matter the circumstances?  And they're never frazzled?  They always look beautiful?  Well CM is that way.  Today she ran 20.4 miles and at the end she looked as cool and lovely as ever... Sure, she looked tired, who wouldn't?  But lovely nonetheless.  So my mental image was that I looked OK.  I figured if she looked like that, I must look like that too.  Yea, so I got in my car, glanced in the rear view mirror.... and noticed that I had SALT ALL OVER MY FACE!!!  My eyes and mouth were rimmed in it.  I looked like a margarita.  And not in a drinkable way.  No wonder I felt so blah.  There was NO salt left in my body.  I guess all H needed was a shot of tequila and a lime, except that he's Not Home.  

He's Camping IN A TENT with the Cub Scouts.  I'll be thinking of him all night while I'm snuggled up in my toasty bed with Desi & Heidi (aka. Cujo and Fang).  More on that later I'm sure....  

pictures from the weekend from not quite hell

AND I know funny- I'm a clown fish!!!

I am as neurotic as a stand up comedian, only I'm not famous or rich.

This is crazy, but I'm obsessing on a new thing.  A few weeks ago I was told I was "funny".  It happens that sometimes I make observations, usually just off the cuff, that make people laugh.  Sometimes, when I'm "on", I know I'm "on" and I push all the buttons and get people crying laughing.  Usually at my expense, but that is generally pretty funny in itself.  So, back to my point.  "g., you're funny."  Pretty much, that was the statement.

Here's the obsession.  Whenever I'm around the people who were around when the "you're funny" statement was made, I am self-conscious about being funny.  Nothing is more un-funny than a person being worried about being funny.  I'm sorry, it's true.  So, now I'm this un-funny person around people who expect funny.  ARG!  I can't stand it.

This is truly how stand up comedians get as crazy as they get.  Ever met a stand up comedian who wasn't in (or didn't NEED) rehab?  No, and I'll tell you why...  This is serious stuff, even for me and I'm not a professional.  *so many things just came to mind there...  

Now I'm going to have to just wait for this awkwardness to pass over the next few days... weeks... months while my funny returns.  I guess I'll have to spend these days (weeks, etc) being a good listener so no one notices...

Now that's blog worthy, and I didn't even have to strip

Tonight this is the conversation at our dinner table:

G, "What are we having?"

g., "Meatloaf, scalloped potatoes, and corn" (followed by a chorus of "Mmms")

C, "But Daddy doesn't eat corn".

H, "It's OK, Mommy made me green beans."

C, "Can I share your green beans?"

H, "Yes...."

G, "Daddy?  May I share your green beans too?"

H, "Yes..."

At which point H & I look at each other across the table.  Our children are eating potatoes, corn, green beans and meatloaf with happiness and joy, and the only moment of controversy was when they thought there wouldn't be enough second vegetables to go around.  ~sniff~  You make me proud kids....

H looks at me and says, "Now THAT is blog worthy."  So this post is on behalf of H, who wanted to brag to the world that his kids were fighting over steamed green beans, which were served w/o salt or butter.  

A rainy Hatteras Weekend

10 years of experience should have taught me what I need to know about vacationing with H on the OBX.  He says he loves it down there, but I've actually concluded that he's a big fat liar and that he hates it down there.  Sorry H, but I'm starting to catch on.  

On Wednesday of last week we cancelled our OBX trip.  It was still cancelled on Thursday morning when I took a nice 6 mile run with R.  And then, I went to the grocery store and bought ingredients for dinner on Thursday.  This whole time B had been running around like a maniac and driving us all nuts.  When she woke up from her nap, H went up and got her, and she was still wild child and I said, "WHY?  Why have we cancelled our weekend away?  She's obviously fine, let's just go!"  So H had some reservations... why don't we wait until tomorrow, or Saturday.  Uhg, I argued.  It's a 5 hour drive to our house (which is down on Hatteras Island in Buxton), so if we go, I like to have an extra day dedicated to travel.  You know?  It's a lot of travel time to drive down and turn around and drive back the next day.  Not impossible, but still, just a lot of travel.  Still, H was right.  We should have waited...

We decided to go on late Thursday afternoon.  Three hours into our drive we stopped at Sonic for dinner.  And B was starving, so I handed her some saltines and her cup of water.... and we hit the road... and about 3 minutes later I heard the unmistakeable sound of a toddler throwing up everything in her stomach, which unfortunately, turned out to be a LOT of water and 2 Saltines.  Yea.  So, the choice is- turn around and drive the 3 hours home?  Or, muscle through and go to Hatteras.  We decided to go on.  That way we'd have a bed, some rest, and if we needed to leave, we could sleep and then leave in the morning.  Ok.  Bad choice number 1 was going to the OBX.  Bad choice number 2 was not monitoring the amount of water B drank.  Bad choice #3 was NOT turning around.  It started to rain as we arrived onto Pea Island.

It poured rain from Thursday night until Sunday morning.  And, except for a 2 hour break while I ran 10 miles, it was consistently raining.  The forecast kept suggesting that it was clearing up or already sunny.  It was.  In Nags Head.  But we weren't in Nags Head.  We were in Buxton.  Anyway, it was a disaster.  The house doesn't have cable yet- it's brand spanking new, so there's no TV.  We spent 2 days in a non-childproofed house w/ no TV and lived to tell the tale.  Anyway, it wasn't the end of the world.  On sunday when we woke up it was beautiful.  I rolled over, looked at H and said, "get up, get dressed, grab the kids and get in the JEEP, we're hitting the Orange Blossom (bakery) and driving out to the beach for breakfast."  He agreed and we hit it.  We sat in the sunshine, drinking coffee while the kids ran and played.  It was beautiful, and we had the whole beach to ourselves (gee I wonder why?).  On a whim I baited a pompeno rig for G with two sand fleas and cast out to the bar.  As I walked away from him he starts screaming that he caught a fish.  I said, "Honestly, G.  You have a weight on the end of the line.  People just don't catch fish on their first cast."  Only guess what?  He had and it was about 14 inch long puppy drum!  We threw it back though, because I didn't know the rules and I'm not going to chance a $500 fine on a 14 inch fish.  A 31 inch fish, maybe...

By the end of the drive home we concluded that we never should have gone.  We could have hung out at our own home this weekend, getting odds and ends done, gone to the ZOO, whatever... it would have been better than pouring rain for 2 days straight in a house w/o TV.

ONE good thing that came out of this- w/o a TV it's hard to think about politics and the economy.  

Weekend Blues

C's spiked a fever.  B's still throwing up as of 4pm this afternoon.  Our weekend plans to go to the OBX and relax, fish, sunbathe.... have been scrapped.  I can't tell you how disappointed I am.  It's just a crushing blow.  I've been looking forward to this weekend for two months.

Oh well.  That's what I get for making plans to do something fun.

On the up side- I can run with the girls this weekend.

oh. my. what now?

Um.  So I don't have a lot of time to blog today...  given that B just threw up all over my copy of Paradise Lost...  it was in a safe zone, but, with baby vomit, you just never know how far it will travel... there's probably some kind of quantum physics law that applies...

So, I've cleaned the baby, the table, the floor, the wall, the chair, and the book.

What now?

The difference between men & women

This week I overheard a conversation between my husband and son, and chuckled to myself about the inherent differences between mothers and fathers.  When a woman speaks to her daughter about "the most important thing to remember" the conversation could go a lot like this:

"The Most Important Thing To Remember in Life is..."

...to sift the flour after you measure it, or the recipe won't turn out right.

...to compromise to reach a solution, without compromising yourself.

...to experiment with different flavors when you're cooking so you know what you like.

...to play hard, but to remember that winning isn't always everything, sometimes the fun is in the playing.

...to forgive the people around you because they're not perfect and neither are you.

This week, I overheard this statement from my husband to my son:

"G, The most important thing to remember in life... is that it's not how many games the Red Sox win during the season, as long as they win enough to make it to the Post Season."

The most important thing?  I was hoping for, "Stay in school", "Don't do drugs", "Put your socks in the laundry"... but no...  instead, the most important thing is to remember that the Soxs have made the playoffs.  Gotta love it.

It's an illusion- just so you know

Last night I went to MNO with a MOMS group I'm in...  The shaky economy is really helping my MNO attendance.  really.  Yea, just when I have the least amount of money to spend (H works for Wachovia Bank) I need MNO the most.  

So, given the events of yesterday, I'm starting to feel suspicious about how bad I must normally look on a "work night".  Usually I will show up someplace without a shower, in jeans, a T-shirt and some minimal makeup.  However, last night, I showered, changed, and wore my "bitch shoes".  So... compared to my normal "look" I think I must have looked nice.  No, not bragging about how I look, that sounds weird.  It just... well, the response I got when I walked into The Barrel Thief* was over the top (*if you live in Richmond VA you really need to go check this place out).  I felt like my friends greeted me like a rock star.  Seriously, it was crazy!  And when we had finally settled down they were all staring at me, and one of them blurts out, "How do you do it?".  Um, do what?  "Really, how do you watch after 3 children, babysit for E, go to school, train for a half marathon, and LOOK LIKE THIS!?"  

A MOMENT OF PANIC... look like what?  IS there throw up on the back of my shirt?  Do I have something in my teeth?  Did one of my children do something to me with a crayon?  Am I wearing matching shoes?  Do I have a hole in my shirt?  What do I look like???... OH, wait, you meant that as a compliment.  Ok.  So, how do I do it?

Gee you know.  That is a really good question, how DO I do it?

Naturally, I said something witty and funny about mommy hood (it's my blog after all & my reality, of course I'm going to say that), and the conversation moved on from there.  But later, I thought about it and realized a few truths.

How do I do it?  

Well.  I don't.

The first thing that came to me is that I think the TRAINING is the ANSWER, not the question.  It allows me to blow off stress, have alone time, and to test myself in ways I never thought possible.

The next reality that occurred to me, in my moment of clarity, is that it's an illusion.  I don't have it all together.  Most of the time I feel out of control, like I am just scratching at the surface of "togetherness"... take today for example...  after SS...  

And finally, I think it helps to have a really good fan club.  Surround yourself with people who worship you (ha ha -or at least boost your ego), encourage you and promote your well being & emotional health, and you too can "look like this".