Not The Roofing Kind

People. Can I have your attention please?

Now, we all know that I have been going through an extremely, uh, bumpy patch the last few weeks, right? Right. Okay. Well, it has lightened enough that I can now function semi-normally. I'm sure this has nothing to do with the meds, and everything to do with the fact that my MIL has sworn on her life that she will indeed call me every.single.night until I am better. It's working. Don't take that like I don't like her calling or that I don't like her in general. I love my MIL. I love love love her to death. I think sometimes I married SugarDaddy just so she could be my MIL.

Well, after our trip to the Dells, I started feeling kinda funny. Not "Ha ha" funny like normal, that is still wwwaaaayyy off down the recovery road, but funny like my skin kinda itched and tickled, but I couldn't put my finger on it exactly.

Sunday night, enter the rash of doom. Covered. Head to toe. Itched like a mad hoss too. But then it went away, and all was better in Keliland.

Monday arrives, and arms, owie. Upper arm, left side, major owie. And bumps. And pus. And eeewww! I start popping Benadryl like candy, but no relief. It was then I knew what it was.

So I head to the doc, and then to the pharmacy, wherein they fill my brand new RX for Valtrex.
Go on, click the link. Before I go on, and to make this post that much funnier, click the dang link.

Clicked? Okay.

Turns out there's a new herpes in town. Valtrex treats my kind of herpes as well as the genital kind, so don't go getting no idears or anything.

Shingles. Good for roofing, bad for people.

Gettin' My Green On

Happy St. Paddy's Day!

Today I'm getting my green on by making a delish dinner of corned beef and cabbage. Hopefully all will turn out well.

So go get some green on, or don't be surprised when a stranger pinches you on the tushie.

Field Trip

I am the proud new owner of a new nephew. Head over here and check him out. He's a cutie.

Lake Delton-ish

This last weekend we decided we needed a change of scenery. I myself needed a change in a bad way. So at the last minute, we rented a condo and headed up to the Wisconsin Dells. For those of you not in the know, The Dells, as the locals call it, is home to the most and biggest indoor water parks in the world. Or as I like to say, "The Dells, a way to stay pasty white all year 'round!"

Wisconsin is only a 10 minute drive from our house, but The Dells is just over 2 hours. And let me tell you, that extra 1 hour and 50 minutes makes a huge heck of a difference when it comes to the weather. They still had about 2 feet of snow on the ground in places! The lakes were still frozen! But people (us) were walking around in wet clothes to and from the car to get to the water park.



Here is the condo we rented. Literally at the last minute. We were just going to start driving and decide where to stay when we got there, but the nice owner called us back and squeezed us in. She was so embarrassed because there were still dishes washing in the dishwasher. I told her I could live with that, and so she said it was fine. We were expecting something kind of ghetto, especially for the price we paid. But I figured as long as it had a bed and a kitchen, we'd be fine for 2 nights.

As you can see, it was much more than just a bed and a kitchen. It was gorgeous! 3 bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths, TV's and DVD players in every room, and most of all 2 balconies, one of which had a hot tub. I always want to sing the Eddie Murphy SNL skit of "Hot Tub" whenever I say that. The hot tub was a hit. The girls, even Maggie, would have been content to sit in there all day. It had a radio, a light show, and even a waterfall! Who needs tickets to a water park when you have a lighted rockin out hot tub all to yourself?

Here is Maggie. I think this shot shows her having the most fun of the day. My Maggie is afraid of everything. And water parks are probably right up there with being picked up, and getting dirty. We did force her on a couple of slides, one of which was a family slide. She screamed her guts out the whole time, but the second time, she didn't scream quite so much. Even the lazy river was a little too much for her to handle.

Here's Gretta intent on finishing her Kool-Aid. This kid is exactly the opposite of Maggie when it comes to adventure. She was going down slides, swimming around the baby pool, and begging to go on the family slide. Even in the lazy river, she didn't want me to hold her on my lap in the tube, she wanted to hang on to the handle and dangle over the side so she could float. No life jacket, no floaties, just good old fashioned water lover in that kid. Like her mother.


Here's Emma in front of one of the kiddie play lands. She was perfectly content to do her own thing most of the day. She climbed the stairs, went down the slides, and put that on repeat. She and I decided we wanted to go down the "toilet bowl" slide. It's the kind where you shoot through a steep dark tunnel, and then it spits you out into a toilet bowl looking thing, wherein you fall out through a hole in the bottom. It was scary, but she said she'd do it if I bought her some watershoes. Deal. She bonked her leg pretty hard, got lots of water up her nose, and vowed never to do it again. I concurred, and we went to the gift shop for the shoes.

One sad thing about where we stayed, is that it used to be lake front property. Last year the dam broke, and the water rushed down the Wisconsin River. They have fixed the damn dam, and Lake Delton is currently filling. I'm sure by next year it will be lake front again. Not that we cared, since it was a frozen piece of dam ice anyway. But I'm thinking next summer, condo rental, kayak in tow, and maybe a far away family member or two. Perfect.

Friday Fun

Friday Fun shows an evolution of a Shih-Tzu when Sugar Daddy gets a hold of clippers and a wild hair up his butt.

Before. Fuzzy, unable to see where she was going, but warm.

Mid-cutting. I could have spun that fur into thread and sewn something from it, I'm sure. Maybe Shih-Tzu's are more practical than Alpaca's.

After. One.Very.Naked.Dog.

She hasn't been able to get warm for three days now. She will burrow under any sort of warm fabric she can find. I even found her lying in the sun that came through a small crack in our front window.

I feel bad for her. But in a couple of weeks she'll look much better, and hopefully we'll consistently be above freezing by then, so she can get warm.


Happy Friday!

Field Trip

If you have a girl in your life, and you want her to look pretty, head over here, and enter the giveaway I have going on in my other shop. Trust me, it's worth it.

And if you don't win, you can still buy some. 4 clippies for $5. $5, people. Even in this crappy economy you have to admit that's a pretty killer deal.

And as a heads up, keep checking often, because we have some wicked cute onesies coming out any day now. We're talking wickedly wicked cute. Boy and girl. I'm just sayin', it's worth a click every day or so.

Be Thou A Friend

I have good friends.

No, I have great friends.

While in the midst of this horrible depression, I was on the receiving end of several selfless deeds by said friends.

First, Dubya took my kids all day on Monday so I could run several errands. One of which was getting my windshield fixed, which would have been a complete nightmare had I been toting 3 kids around with me. Thank you, Dubya.

Next, J-Lo, being the sweet heart she is, stopped by one evening, just to see how I was, and to drop off a lovely potted tulip plant. All it took was a hug and asking how I was doing, and the tears that flowed pretty much said it all. Thanks, J-Lo.

Neighbor Kate was Saint Neighbor Kate yesterday when she popped her head in at 9:00 AM and practically shoved me out of the house, telling me to go do something fun. So I did. Hair cut, brows waxed, and a trip to the library, I was feeling much better. But she wasn't done yet.

After a noon-time phone call, J-Lo and Laurisa whisked me off to a fun lunch at Chili's. We ate and chatted, I cried, no surprise there, but I felt much better.

After I arrived home, Saint Kate had been alone with 4 children all day. And she wasn't even frazzled. She was my savior.

So thank you, dear friends. You have made a significant dent in my downer mood. I am feeling better. I even went to bed last night without a pill, and slept most of the night. That is a big step.

So today I'm just working on recovering from the dentist trip last night. More about that later.

Obesity

As neighbor Kate and I sat at our craft show, not selling anything, we were discussing getting new clothes. I have this little problem as of late, where my jeans seem to be hanging off me. I'm not complaining, by the way. But I'm not a perfect size 6 like she is, so I was telling her how hard it is for us "full figured gals" to find good fitting jeans. I had previously told her that one of my favorite stores is Torrid. I call it the - and you have to say it fast to make it sound better - "fat chick hoochie mama store". See? Funny, huh? They have sizes right up my alley. And when I go there, I can buy their smallest size, which is a huge self esteem boost for me.

They have all sorts of clothes. Modern and classic, trendy and slutty, basics and accessories. Shoes, too, but I don't have fat feet, only a fat middle, so I can't wear their shoes.

Anyway, Kate proceeds to tell me to head on over to Morbid to get me some new jeans. Of course this strikes me as totally hilarious, because I had never realized how closed Torrid and Morbid sound. And when I hear Morbid, I think Morbidly obese. I wonder if their Think Tank thought of that? Probably did, and thought us fat chicks wouldn't be so quick. But leave it to the skinny girls to point it out.

So today I'm off to Morbid to find some new jeans. Wish me luck.

Biggest Girl

The other day, Gretta woke up from her nap and she was soaked. Sometimes this happens when she falls asleep in the car, and I can actually move her into her crib without her awakening. The problem with this is that the diaper she is wearing usually needs changing, but no way in Heck am I tempting nap fate with that one. It's just a risk I'm willing to take.

So she's wet. I change her, and her crib sheets, and the zillion blankets inside it. She likes it when they're all clean, she says they have a "rate mell", translated that means great smell. And they do. I love Bounty.

Fast forward to that night. Time for bed. Jammies on, prayers said, tucking in has commenced. Problem. No crib sheet. Or zillion blankets. Still in the washer. Hmmm. So I get this crazy idea to tell Gretta her crib is broken. She has to sleep in the bunk bed. Bottom, of course, what kind of mother do you think I am? She agrees, I tuck her in, give her a book, an extra pillow, a little blankie, and her glow worm.

I leave the room fully expecting her to return to the balcony asking for her crib. A few minutes pass, and nothing. Hmm. I settle in to watch some DVR'd shows, thinking certainly as soon as the plot gets good, she would poke her head out. Nothing. So and entire show goes by, and still not a peep. I see this as two things. Very good, as in she is sound asleep, and happily making the transition to a big bed, or very bad as in she has found the lotion and is becoming Degas on the walls as we speak.

So up the stairs I stalk. Quietly quietly. This girl is the lightest sleeper in the world. I open her door ever so slowly, expecting a whiff of lotion or wipes or anything naughty kids would find to occupy their time. Nothing. I peek around the corner of the bunks, and sure enough, there lies Gretta, snug as a bug in a rug. Sound alseep. In a big bed. It was a miracle.

So for three nights now, her crib has been "broken", and she is fine with sleeping in the big bed. I worrry a little because there aren't any railings holding her in, but she hasn't fallen out yet. And even if she does, it's only a few inches to the ground, so I doubt she'd really care. Now the discussion. Do we take apart the crib? Or find another body to fill it?



On a different note, let me just tell you. I am in the midst of the worst depression I've ever experienced. I cannot for the life of me get above it. I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. I had to say the opening prayer at church yesterday, and I completely sobbed through the whole thing. The opening prayer, people. It went pretty much downhill from there for the rest of the day. We bailed out of church and decided to take a drive into Wisconsin to see if I could relax and compose myself. I cried for 3 hours. I am on new meds, and even a supplement of a relaxant, but still, there are times when even the simplest of tasks seems overwhelming. My kids think (know?) I'm crazy, and they're tired of me always yelling at them or crying for no reason.

I don't know why I'm telling you this. Maybe I just need to get it off my chest. Maybe I just need to have another pity party. But this isn't really a pity party. It's more than even Post Partum Depression. It's more than anything I've ever felt. Someone actually told me it's because of the time change. Yeah, genius, I'm sure I've been depressed for weeks because of the time change. Idiot. Maybe I just need some advice on how to get over it. I've turned to many sources. Friends, prayer, prayer, prayer, and even had a friend over last night for a priesthood blessing. I just don't know what else to do. When will I finally learn the lesson I've been given?

Whatever it is, I know big girls aren't supposed to cry.

Friday Fun

This weeks entry comes from Ken, of Michelle and Ken. He has some pretty funny stories from his various rotations throughout medical school. We were discussing funny names one night, and he came up with this one. He wrote it out and asked if any of us could figure out how to pronounce it.

Just so you know, I failed miserably. But you should totally try.

Here it is.

La-Ah.

Happy Friday!


* Okay, I know you give up. Here it is.

You pronounce it La dash uh. As in the dash isn't silent. Can you believe it? And I thought my name was always getting spelled wrong!

Beaten

The other day I made a killer lasagna. My trick? Rinse the cottage cheese, then drain it through a tea towel to make it nice and crumbly. Then add it to the Ricotta, with a beaten egg and some Parmesan. Delish.

But it was killer in another way, as well.

You see, I like to eat leftovers for lunch, and I was so excited to have a slice of this tasty cheesy treat yesterday. I microed it, covered in a paper towel of course, and then let it sit in the microwave while I patiently waited for it to reach eatable temperature. When it was time, I whipped open the door to the microwave, reached in to retrieve my noodley yumminess, when the microwave door decides it wants to fight back. It came swinging back to the closed position, which it would have achieved, had my eye not been directly in the spot where the hook latches it closed.

I took it right to the edge of my ocular. I swore, sorry Mom, and instantly thought I was going to be blind. I rushed to the sink, fearing a blood storm, grabbed a towel to stop the flow, when I realized something. Nothing. Nothing at all. No blood. No eye juice. No nothing at all. At first I was little miffed, because I was expecting something great after all that pain. Then I was relieved that I wasn't blinded. Then I was fully expecting to see a great big bruise that I could pass off as my battered wife wound.

Still, nothing. Don't get me wrong. It hurts like Hell. I can't even squint my eye without a stinging sensation permeating my face and eye ball. But there isn't even a mark where the stupid thing hit me! Not a mark! I have acne scars more noticeable than this thing.

I'm such a wuss. But hopefully in a day or two it will bruise up nicely so I can play the battered wife card and get some sympathy.

I'm -----This----- Thankful

Gretta received a package in the mail the other day. She was instantly in heaven. Although, after seeing what was in the package, I think Maggie was just as thrilled.

All the girls showing off together.

And here it is. The ultimate dress up dress. Aunt Kelli and Aunt Troy are the best. They know exactly what will get Gretta going. She carried it around for a good 10 minutes before Maggie finally forced her to put it on. Otherwise, Maggie would have worn it herself. Of course, once she had it on, there was no taking it off. Even for bed. But that's just fine with me.

An action shot of the opening ceremony. Even Bebe got in on the action. She's that big mess of fur to the right.

So thanks Aunt Kelli and Aunt Troy! You guys are the best!


And for the record, I'm not going on the cruise as some have previously mentioned. My dumb dog had to have emergency surgery a few moths ago, and that basically took up our cruise fund. Dumb dog. So for the next week and a half or so, I will be freezing my patootie off in Chitown, while my bro and sis and their respective spouses gallivant through the Caribbean. Suckers. But if it gets even one of them to update their blogs with the pictures I'm sure they will take, it will be worth the jealousy.

Also, thanks for all the sweet comments yesterday. I have the best friends ever. I even received a giant Coke delivered to my front door. Knowing I had so many of you out there giving me hugs really made a difference. I do feel better today, but I'm sure the Valium is helping with that. ;)

It's One Of Those Days

I can't get a grip today. There will be lots of tears today. I can tell when it starts out first thing in the morning that things are just going to go downhill, and fast.

It started last night. I had just settled in for a nice book and a warm blanket, when Sean came calling me downstairs for a surprise. Of course I couldn't resist, so I marched down there with much anticipation. I had received a letter! I love mail. Inside this letter, was a simple bracelet. It immediately sent me over the edge.

It was my mom's. It has a "P" and a bee on it. She used to wear it all the time. Meg is so sweet to think of me, and knows how much I need to feel close to her. So this meant crying myself to sleep last night. Not an unusual occurrence. But it's the waking up with tears flowing that makes the days hard. There just isn't much that can get me up out of this funk on a day like today. Better to just stay inside and not have to face the world.

Have I mentioned I hate being a grown up? Some days I think I can't deal with it all. I think it's just too much to handle. I hate all the hard decisions, and the despair that comes along with being grown up. Things seemed so much simpler before. Before what? I couldn't exactly say. Before I moved away, probably. Before she died, certainly. You know my first reaction after the strep diagnosis yesterday was to pick up the phone and call my mom. I knew exactly what she would say. I could practically hear the sympathy in her voice. There is no one to call that can take that place.

People my age shouldn't be dealing with the loss of a parent. Especially the loss of a parent in such a manner as hers. I know I'm not the only one that has had to do it, but some days it feels like I am.

Sorry for the pity party. It's just one of those days.

Hiatus

My kid has strep. Again. This is like the bajillionth time in the last year and a half or so. I'm really really really tired of 10 day antibiotics. I'm also tired of her screaming through a penicillin shot, and then doing 10 days of antibiotics on top of that. I'm hoping she'll be getting her tonsils out within the year. But we'll see.

So, on that note, I'll be back tomorrow with something good. Not great, but probably not that good either, so don't hold your breath.

On a completely unrelated note, my feet are muy stinky.

Friday Fun

Remember this movie? I queued it from Netflix, and the day it came it got watched 3 times. We've had it for 3 weeks, and I think someone has watched at least part of it every single day since.

I'm just so glad to see great flicks like this get passed on to the next generation.

Happy Friday!

A Walk In My Shoes

Gretta has taken to a nifty new habit as of late. She thinks every pair of shoes left unfilled or unattended can be used as her new toy. She started out with "Moots Boots" the other day. As she clomped around in Maggie's boots, she kept repeating, incessantly, "Moots boots, Moots boots," until I wanted to pull my hair out. For the uninitiated, Maggie's middle name is Moots, and Gretta thinks it's hilarious to call her that.


Here she is, Miss America. Please disregard the binky. I'm so tired of the binky, and trust me, I've been admonished to rid her of it several times, by several different people. Problem with that, is that if she doesn't have her binky handy, she's just as content to suck her thumb, like Moots. I'd rather have her on the binky thankyouverymuch.


Wearing one pair of about three pairs of heels I own. Somehow she finds them in the waaaaay back of the closet, pairs them up correctly, and parades around my bathroom in them. I guess it's all that practice she had with her Disney shoes.


But really, someone should tell her that socks and sandals are out. This is actually her least favorite pair of shoes, because the foot bed is quite slippery, and she can't walk so well in them.

Oh, how we love our Gretta. She's learning so many things so quickly. Her new thing is to say "a show?" right before bed time. She thinks this gets her out of going to bed. It doesn't. Most of the time. She also loves to be read to. Repeatedly. Over and over and over again. The same stupid "This Little Piggy" book. She knows the words, but she wants someone else to read it to her a million times in a row. And her newest favorite thing is the shower. If she hears that upstairs shower turn on, she is up the stairs, naked and opening the door before the steam has even started. Gotta love the 2 year olds.

Totally Random

I realized yesterday that it's been a while since I posted any pics. I guess my thoughts have gotten better of me than my camera has. But here is some proof that I do indeed take pictures most days. I just don't get around to uploading and posting them like I should. Bear with me.


Emma playing dress up with Mags. This is a pretty rare occurrence around our house these days. Emma is growing past the dress up stage, and to be honest, she and Maggie rarely play anything together anymore. Unless it has to do with the computer or the DS, Emma pretty much stays away from having much to do with Maggie. I think she sees her as the annoying little sister. I remember being that annoying little sister. It's a hard stage.


Here is Gretta enjoying opening up her birthday present from Poppa. When we were in Utah for the summer, my mom had this little fox that graced the bottom shelf of one of her cabinets. Gretta always found it and carried it around the house. I had completely forgotten about it until it arrived as part of her package. You can see she pretty much thinks it's the coolest thing ever.



This was her first expression after ripping open the paper it was wrapped in. She was as shocked as I was. But then she hugged it, kissed it, and tried to ride it around the house like a horse.


Pre-tearing of the goods. She also got an outfit that she thinks is pajamas, a pack of Care Bears playing cards which have mostly found themselves shoved into every nook and cranny of the toy room, and a fancy schmancy card with Minnie Mouse on it. She loves it all!


Here is Maggie showing off her Valentines boxes she made for her dance class. We only had to make like 10 valentines, so instead of buying a huge pack of cards for $3.00, we went to our local craft store, bought 10 pieces of paper for $1.00, and used their die cut machine to cut the design for the boxes. She folded them, I glued the bottoms, and she filled them up with candy hearts. They were the hit of the class for sure.

So that pretty much sums up the most interesting pictures I've taken in the last few weeks. I'm still on the lookout for a funny Friday image, but I'll keep looking. I have the best one, but for the life of me, I can't find the picture to go with the story. I'll do my best, just for you.

*I have been asked about the origin of the fox. I can honestly say I have no idea from whence it came. It's just always been around the house, and I never thought to ask my mom about it. You know, it wasn't one of those important things you think about in the last few weeks of someone's life. I find myself having a lot of those moments. I wish I could call her up and ask her. Anywhoo, if any of you know where the fox originated, I would love to know.

I Heart Faces

This weeks theme over at I heart faces is Black and White. I just love this picture of Gretta. It was taken right after we got her ears pierced. So cute. You can barely see she has one teeny tiny tooth coming in on the bottom.



So go here and check out the other entries.

Field Trip

Take a wander over to my other blog and enter a contest to win some cute clippies. The directions are over there, and be sure and comment over there for your entries.

Good Luck!

She Seems Harmless

Last night was a strange night. First of all, with 1 PM church time, I don't get my usual Sunday nap in anymore, and that just puts me in a strange mood to begin with. But after church, and a delicious meal of Laura's chicken enchiladas, we settled in for a view of Amazing Race. As I hunkered down under the blankets, I got that no so fresh feeling. Ewww. I hate that. So up to bed I went. I tossed and turned most of the night, trying at first not to throw up, and then trying to get myself to throw up just so I could feel better.

Nothing happened. Except a very strange dream.

I sat observing a preschool class, in which 3 of my own children were enrolled. The class instructor was very strict, and as I observed, I found myself needing to step in to help control her very bad temper. She was a beautiful teacher, long blond hair, and the cutest little lisp. She had on very fancy jewelry, and wore stunning pointy toe shoes. But still, despite her good looks, she was mean.

At one point, my Sister-In-Law arrives with her 3 kids, drops them in the classroom and heads out on her merry way, none the wiser to our harsh teacher's antics. I stayed, and felt I needed to protect my kids from her.

Finally, just as class was ending, the teacher turned to me, and I recognized her face instantly. She told me she couldn't deal with my kids anymore, and she was certain their lives would be screwed up forever because of my bad parenting skills. She actually used the words "screwed up", which surprised me, even in my dream state, because she is so eloquent with language, that I felt she could have found better words. And I don't see her as the "screwed" using type in her real life, even though I don't know her in real life.

But as she stormed out of the classroom in a huff of arrogance, she turned to me and lowered down to face me where I was sitting. She was so close I could smell her toothpaste. As she was about to say some other mean snarky comment, I took my right hand and POW! I punched her square in the eye. She stumbled back, and came back at me with a force that shoved me over in my chair. She straddled on top of me, and began pummeling me with her fists.

All the while, I lay there taking the punches, thinking to myself, "why on earth is CJane punching me?"

She seems so sweet. I've never gotten the abusive vibe from her at all. I mean, she took in her nieces and nephew with nary a days notice, and fed and clothed them for months just out of the goodness of her heart. And yet, here she is, punching me in the face. It was shocking, really.

But then I was startled awake by the 2 AM screams from Gretta, apparently she was having a scary dream, too.

So CJane, I know we don't know each other, but if you could please remember that when you're teaching my kid(s) in preschool, don't start punching me in the face for being a bad mom. I beat myself up enough for both of us.