the subsequent pregnancy

Nobody told me that subsequent pregnancies got boring a lot faster than first ones.  That must be one of those details they deliberately leave out of pregnancy books.

I think I allowed myself one blog post solely about pregnancy while I was expecting the kiddo, so I guess this will be my token preggo blog.  Or not if I decide I want to write about it again.  The other pregnancy blog post happened on some other blog that has since disbanded... sorry.  It may be around here somewhere, but I don't feel like looking for it at 5 minutes 'til 1 AM on Sunday morning.  Why I choose to write at these times I'll never know.

Why allow myself only one? Because if I let myself I would drone on and on and on about how much weight I gained this month as opposed to last month and how that probably happened because I'd been having a snack before bed every night and how much my feet hurt when I get up out of bed and how sometimes it feels like there's an elephant sitting on my pelvis and... well, this is why I refuse to let myself write about it hardly at all because it's so much fun for me to share details.  After the kiddo was born I don't even want to think about how many times I rehashed the entire process from trying to pee in a cup around a pregnant belly, hospital gown, and 2 different monitor cords to cleaning that brownish antiseptic stuff out of my bellybutton.... to pretty much anybody who would listen and sometimes more than once since I couldn't remember who I'd told and who I hadn't because I was so drugged and sleep deprived.  And now I've practically done it again.  See? I'm insatiable.

But anyway, back to the subsequent pregnancy.

The good news is several things actually since this one has been so smooth sailing so far.  I haven't swollen at all, which probably has everything to do with the fact that it's not 400 degrees outside.  I haven't gained very much weight AT ALL, which has everything to do with some miracle that I don't understand since I have only recently restrained myself from eating everything that isn't held on with brackets or nailed to the floor.  I told my doctor this and she pretty much said, "Hey, just go with it" (paraphrased loosely for readability).  I should also add that I'm not severely uncomfortable and I can still move around without the assistance of a forklift (for now).

After the kiddo was born and I managed to get skinny again, I discussed my pregnancy weight gain with the hubby.  I guess he figured it was safe since I was pretty much back to my old self and his comment was something along the lines of, "DANG!"

So not cool.

I'm withholding comment on my overall looks during pregnancy #2 since I went all through the kiddo's pregnancy thinking I looked pretty darn fantastic and then when I saw pictures afterward I realized that all those guys were not, in fact, checking me out but were actually afraid I was going to eat them and were looking for the nearest escape route.

Yeah, no kidding... I had sideburns and my nose looked like it was trying to take over my face.  Oh, and I had multiple chins down to my collarbones.

But... as I close in on trimester #3, I have to say the most nagging symptom I'm suffering is boredom.  It's not that I'm not enjoying the pregnancy... there's been nothing to not enjoy so far, thankfully.  It's nothing to do with wanting to be skinny again (although that will be nice).  It's just boredom with pregnancy in general.  I pretty much know what to expect from here on out and I know that the 3rd trimester is for the most part like the 2nd one only I start going to the doctor more often and people start staring at me not because "Aw look, there's a pregnant woman," but more because "Oh Lord, I hope she doesn't get near an open flame!"

I'm just ready to get it over with and get my baby here.  I'm ready to be done with all-the-time doc's appointments.  I'm ready to get the whole c-section process and hospital stay over and done with.  I'm ready to learn the ropes with 2 kids and just get back to normal life again.

If there were such a thing as pregnancy senioritis, I think I have it.

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why oh why

First of all and for the sake of my own self-loathing I have to say that 2 things posted on the same day do not make me a loser or a dork.  Because for one thing just because I posted the last thing today doesn't mean I actually sat and wrote it all (if youda read it, you woulda knowed that, dude) and for another thing there are about 497 other things that make me a loser and a dork before the having posted twice in one day.

Besides, this one is happening after midnight, so it will look like a tomorrow post.  But then I'll have 2 posts for tomorrow since I love me a good ole (Not So) Wordless Wednesday.

I have just spent this significant portion of a text box explaining why I'm not a loser and a dork... Reason #498?

So... back to why I'm writing another thing today/tomorrow.

I am what I like to think of as a ferocious reader mainly because I like the word ferocious and I like to sit for long periods at a time reading and contemplating my own ferociousiness (and it makes me feel like a lioness).  Actually, that's not true since the only thing I usually spend any amount of time sitting and doing is something like what I'm doing right now or reading other people's what-I'm-doing-right-nows.  The main time that I do my reading is before bed.  My dad lent me a Louis L'amour novel a couple weeks ago and it was amazing, but as it seems to happen with most books, I ran out of pages.  Meanwhile, ye olde hubby got me started watching the John Adams HBO series, which was also amazing and inspired me to start reading David McCullough's John Adams biography.

::Momentary Digression:: I am not one to use the term "bad Biblical-terminology-for-a-donkey," but if I were, I would say that Abigail Adams was totally that.

::Second Momentary Digression:: Were you aware that the Adams' daughter Nabby had a mastectomy with no anesthesia because oh.my.gosh.  It was so gruesome I had to look up more info on the internet.

So, I read, oh, about 2 and a half pages of that and decided that it is not the kind of froofy bedtime reading to which my brain has become accustomed, so I promptly removed the bookmark and decided to wait until I was feeling a little less shallow.

Which leads me to my present state of distress.  I have been a few nights without a book on my nightstand and am feeling totally lost and alone in the world, so before laying down tonight I sat down on the end of the bed and stared at my bookshelf.  I have a couple of new books from Christmas, but neither of them appealed to me for now.  I have dozens of others which I've already read and reread but wouldn't necessarily be opposed to reading again... it just didn't strike my fancy.  So, giving up on that option, I checked under my nightstand for my latest copy of Cookie, but I just wasn't up to that tonight.

A word about "Cookie Mag: the Stylish Parenting Magazine for the New Mom." I received a promo thing in some of my new baby stuff after the kiddo arrived offering a cheap-o subscription + some kind of "sneak it in" cookbook + a bag, so I went for it.  The magazine seems to be a lot of adds for Burberry, Gucci, Prada, Ugg (Children's Place and Gap, too, to be fair... although I consider Gap to be out of my price range as well because no way is girlfriend gonna shell out $50 for jeans) interspersed with lots of eco-friendly, liberally-slanted, celebrities-talking-about-what-motherhood-has-done-for-their-self-esteem, ditch-your-kids-for-the-weekend-and-have-lots-of-sex-or-your-marriage-will-disintegrate hoo hocky.  The cookbook was interesting, but the kiddo is a good eater, so I don't really have to "sneak stuff in," and since we don't really do tofu and bean sprouts... And oh yeah, the bag is nice... I use it for library books.  So, it's not a total wash.  My favorite thing ever in these magazines, though, are the clothes they show actual children modeling as if an actual child might actually wear them.  One in particular showed a little girl in a little jumper that I'm pretty sure I could make and she was leading a goat around.  The little jumper that I'm pretty sure I could make cost like $500-ish dollars.  Because, ya know, I would buy my kid a $500 article of clothing and then I would definitely encourage her to go play with the goat.  

Wal-Mart, people.  The brand is Garanimals and since no article of clothing costs over $5, I'm pretty sure some goat activity could be smiled upon.  As long as it was a nice goat.

........

And so here I am, typing away a lot of nonsense of absolutely no importance to anyone who may or may not (more likely) read this... at 1 in the morning.  Because I couldn't find anything to read tonight.  Or for the past few nights, actually.  And so I've developed this delightful habit of bringing my computer to bed.  So not cool... bad for my eyes, bad for my back, and probably bad for my husband's perception of me.

Anyway... I've been trying to read Esther a little at a time so I can finally read Beth Moore's study on it since I've had it and it's been under my couch for a couple of weeks now, so maybe I'll hit up a couple of chapters before turning out the light.  Or maybe I'll see if I can find some more haut goat couture.

P.S. I've recently discovered this stuff... and my cuticles are smiling at me because of it.

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All you ever wanted to know...

I decided to refrain from doing this on a Facebook note the way most folks have been doing it here lately.  I wanted to make it a little more in depth, so I put a little bit of time into it and it's turned into a rather lengthy blog post.  So, here are your 25 "things" about me...

1. Probably one of the most shaping experiences of my life was attending a tiny Christian school from 5th grade through graduation.  The first classroom I sat in was a rearranged Sunday School room with 4 students; the rearranged Sunday School room next door had 2 students.  I was half of my graduating class in 2004.  You can read more a little more about it here if you want...

2. Prior to attending the aforementioned private school, I was homeschooled.  My dad did a few science experiments and helped with math stuff here and there, but mainly my mom was my teacher.  Those years probably held the most shaping experiences of my life.  I owe every academic success in my life to my mother.  She was a hard task master, but it's made me who I am now... and, hey, I like who I am now.  You can read more about my homeschool days as well in the link I added above.

3. I have been looking forward to homeschooling my own children since way before the kiddo was even born.  I have no desire to send my children to the private school I attended.

4. My first job was at a little country grocery store about 5 miles away from my home.  After calling in to ask off of my Sunday shift one day so I could attend a church service, I quit on the spot when my boss basically told me I would have to choose between church and my job.  I had worked there around 9 months.  That was probably one of the hardest days of my life, but I'm not sorry I did it.

5. It is a rare day indeed that I don't cook something.  It may not be a full spread or a big meal, but my stove/oven almost never gets a day off.

6. I keep a supply of homemade bread on hand and my family doesn't really eat store bought anymore.  I also like to make my own spaghetti sauce and guacamole, although I don't always keep these around.

7. I like the transition between seasons more than any particular season itself.  I like every season in some always changing rank that always has winter coming in last.

8. Throughout my life I've said and thought that one of my defining personality traits was that I liked and was good with all kids in general.  I've learned recently that I'm not at all.  I'm good with and I like a few kids in particular, most of those being within my own family.  Other than that, I can pretty much do without them.

9. The discovery in #8 led me to realize that one of the only professions I ever thought of doing - teaching - is nothing I'm interested in doing at all.

10. Upon graduating high school, I had big plans of being an English major and one day teaching high school or college level English.  I married ye olde hubby with one 1 year of college under my belt and my desire to get that degree diminished somewhat.  After 2 years of varying class loads, we found out we were going to have the kiddo and my desire to get that degree diminished even more.  Nine months and a baby later, my priorities reordered altogether and I took the final class I needed to complete a General Studies Associates Degree.  I haven't regretted it for one nanosecond.

11. If in some alternate universe I wanted to and was able to go back to school now, I would be interested in my alma mater's nursing program or in the local technical school's ultrasound tech degree.  If I ever do go back to school, I know it will be 20+ years from now, so who knows what I might be interested in at 45-ish years old.  Yikes...

12. I do laundry every day except Saturday and Sunday.  I go by a schedule... you know, like, Towels on Monday, Socks and Whites on Tuesday, etc.  My schedule is on a white board in the laundry room.  I've found this is the ONLY way I can stay on top of it and not have my house overtaken by scarily huge piles of dirty clothes.  In other words, I've forced myself into quite a few OCD tendencies in order to keep my house neat.

13. Here's my parenting philosophy in the nutshell: I think kids are people, too, and should be treated as such.  I don't like it when adults patronize and even lie to children for the so-called sake of their happiness or because it makes their own lives easier.  Babies come into the world barely knowing how to breathe on their own; I think it's ludicrous to expect them to "self-sooth" and be happy without human contact when that's all they've known for the past 9 months.  I don't think "why" constitutes "talking back" or that "because I said so" constitutes an answer; a child deserves to know reasons for what's expected of them.  I do believe in spanking, but I think that once a kid gets to be a certain age there are other much more effective methods of discipline.

14. I don't trust people easily, am naturally "careful" with my confidences, and tend to expect the worst of people.  It may seem unhealthy and/or pessimistic, but my judgement rarely points me in the wrong direction and it's not often that I'm messed over or have my heart hurt.

15. Relative to #14, I know that I have a generally weird outlook on things, so the few people I've made real and lasting relationships with are especially dear to me because I know that they love me in spite of myself.

16. I don't gossip and I don't care for people who do.  One of the greatest lessons I've learned is to keep my mouth shut, listen, and maybe nod politely every once in a while.

17. My merciful Savior made me one of His own on Wednesday, July 14, 1999.  It was late (maybe even after midnight, thereby making it July 15... never really thought about that actually) and I was alone in my bedroom, stretched out across my bed.  I was 13 years old.  My experience that night isn't as sweet to me as some of the glorious things God has shown me since then, but I'm thankful for the quietness of the beginning of my walk with Him.  He knew just what I needed.

18. I like computer games... a lot.  I don't consider myself a "gamer"... I don't have time to be a full-on gamer, but sometimes when I just need to zone out, I love the doing-nothingness of a good mindless game.  I play for a little while now and then while the kiddo's asleep and I have time to relax.  I have The Sims 2 and one expansion pack that I can think of, but rarely play it anymore.  Most games I play now are time management or strategy games from Big Fish Games.

19. Practically everything I own has a price tag on it.  There are very few things I would refuse to part with if I were offered the right amount of money.  I have a lot of stuff and I like a lot of stuff, but I'm not incredibly attached to most of it.  Contrary to that, if it comes down to selling something or keeping it just in case I might use it again, I'll probably keep it.

20. Within the range of normal (meaning non-exotic) food choices, I'll eat pretty much anything.  There's not really anything that I absolutely detest and refuse to eat.  My favorite foods include pretty much any kind of pasta (as long as I have parmesan cheese), guacamole, chess bars/pie, and (I've discovered recently) apples with peanut butter and honey.  My drink of choice is water, but every now and then I just have to have a Diet Dr. Pepper.  Oh, and I have at least one chai tea latte per week (and they always talk me into the biggest size because "it's only 20 cents more" and I'm a pushover).

21. I've lived in 3 houses during my lifetime.  We moved away from the first one when I was around a year old, so I have no memory of it.  I lived in the second one from that point until I got married when I was 19 and I've lived in my present house since then.

22. "You got married when you were 19?!?!?!?" Yes, I did.  And no, I wasn't barefoot, pregnant, or any combination thereof.  I probably didn't even realize what a good thing it was for me to marry young at the time, but that's just one more way the good Lord has taken care of me.  No regrets here.

23. I attach smells to memories and vice versa.  One weird example... when I was around 11 or 12 I bought the first Spice Girls CD (I know, I know...) and some cappuccino flavored lip gloss during the same shopping trip.  To this day, when I hear certain songs from that album (which, ya know, isn't often since it's the Spice Girls) I can still smell that lip gloss.  My sad little brain...

24. I'm convinced that my husband is the best man in the universe... he has to be.  He's a good provider, an amazing daddy, and he puts up with my crap, which is saying a lot.  I know there's not a day that goes by when I'm 100% easy to live with and he just lets so many things go without complaining.  I think the best thing about him, though, is his ability to soothe me.  I always thought my parents would be the only ones on earth who could truly comfort me, but now I would rather have his reassurance than anyone else's ever.  Was that sorda mushy?

25.  If I never accomplish anything else in this life, being a mom is enough.  If I died tomorrow, I could say that I had done exactly what I wanted to do with my life and was 100% fulfilled.  Raising a child thus far has been the single most rewarding thing I've ever done.

The end.

And just to wrap this up... thinking of 25 things about myself was infinitely more difficult than I ever imagined.  This actually took me several days.  Does that mean I'm super complex or just really, really slow? Probably the latter...

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Wordless Wednesday... or else not so much

I realize I've been slacking on my blog entries, but I've been trying to sort of rebuild my blog to some extent and I got so sick of looking at it that I just haven't been able to bring myself to actually write anything.  Meanwhile, there are other reasons... you know, like life in general, cooking, laundry, my kid pulling the ENORMOUS dictionary off the living room shelf, turning it wrong-side out and then attacking my computer when I go to put it away.

Stuff like that.

Regarding the rebuilding of my blog, though.  Don't even get me started on how frustrated I have become with it.  I realize that now it looks boring only with 3 columns and a crappy looking header, but I refuse to work on it anymore for a while.  Not that I think there are too

 many folks actually even looking at my blog, much less reading it.

...

So, yeah... this is a poor start to a Wordless Wednesday post considering it's been nothing but words so far.  I do have a plan, though! I've been kinda depressed (not really) because the sun has been shining and it's been so pretty outside the past few days, but it's still like REALLY cold.  I've really been jonesin' for some springtime, so I thought I'd post some pictures of my flowers from past years.  That way at least my blog can actually look full on springy.

So, without further adieu...

...orrrrrrrr maybe I won't since my network is being stupid and not letting me connect to my picture folder.

Best laid plans...

OH WAIT! I just remembered I do happen to have 1 little picture on my desktop that I copied over for other reasons that I think would be perfect for this post:

If anybody is out there reading this... know what this is? Care to venture a guess?

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some stuff you need to know

First of all and most importantly, I have never read this blog, but apparently its author Kelly just gave birth to a baby girl who is in desperate need of prayer.  If you're reading this, take a minute to hop over there, catch yourself up on the situation, and whisper a prayer to our almighty God.

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Second and all (and much more trivially), if you're shopping for kitschy fabric patterns that you probably aren't going to find in many piece goods departments, please dash on over to Etsy and do your shopping with Down Shadow Lane and Fabric Affinity.  They have the most awesomely amazing selection and the gal who runs both shops is ever so nice and helpful (especially to big dorks who don't know how to use Etsy properly... cough cough).  So, yes, do all that stuff I just said.

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Third of all (and probably even more trivially), I dreamed last night that I was about to marry George Strait (at least I'm reasonably certain he was George Strait) and that I already had a baby girl by him.  Let's just name off some reasons why this is odd starting with the most obvious:

1. Uh, I'm married to, ya know, MY HUSBAND... and as far as I know most married people don't marry anybody else, award-winning country star for the past century or not.

2. Even if I weren't married, how utterly out of character is it that I would have a child with someone to whom I'm not married?

3. The fact that in the dream I wasn't totally certain of his identity, which most people do at least a little research on before agreeing to marry someone.

4.  The fact that in the dream I wasn't totally certain of his identity and I had a child by him.  Is skanky the word I'm looking for here? I think yes.

5. The child in the dream was a GIRL, which the kiddo most certainly is not.  If I wasn't sure before today, the peeing in the floor TIMES 2 should reaffirm my knowledge.  Doesn't that just seem like a boy thing to do?

6. George Strait is definitely old enough to be my dad.  I looked it up on Wikipedia.

5. I've never even thought of George Strait as even remotely attractive... until now.  Go figure.

I'm sure there's a laundry list of other reasons why this is odd and disturbing, but to be honest my memory of the dream is getting a little foggy.  The only thing I remember very clearly about it at all is that he had a really nice truck... which was probably the only accurate thing in the dream because I'm sure George Strait does have a really nice truck.  Oh, and I remember he had extremely blue eyes... oh brother.

Ah, weird unexplainable dreams... just another treasure of pregnancy.

Goodnight, ya'll.

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Excitement abounds!

It seems I'm forever and always discovering fun new blogs.  Eventually I'm going to have time to do nothing else besides look at other people's blogs and then write short little not-so-interesting blips about them in my own blog.

So, through MckMama's blog, I discovered this fun Giveaway a Day blog.  And, yes, it's exactly what it sounds like... you go there, you comment to enter, and that's pretty much it.

And as it turns out... if you blog about a particular item you can enter an additional time for it...

So, ahem...

I really want these fat quarters.

P.S. Go to Giveaway a Day!

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Wordless Wednesday

I have to admit that I'm shamelessly copying off of other folks I've seen do a wordless Wednesday post (namely MckMama and this quirky gal).  And I know this post is not living up to its name, but I find it so difficult to be truly wordless, don't you?

Let the fun begin!

Oh, and I should make this even less wordless by adding the disclaimer that someday soon it's going to be warm and tolerable outside and there will be pictures other than the kiddo... and while he is quite charming (if I do say so myself), I realize the rest of the world and the literally

 DOZENS of people who read my blog obsessively might be more interested in other things...

But for now... bask in the adorable cuteness!

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Not me! Monday

Time to broadcast to the world all the ludicrous and possibly embarrassing things I absolutely did NOT do within the last week.  That's right, ladies and gents, it's "Not me! Monday." I know all my minions out there in internet world are just positively aglow to get another peak into my imperfections, but don't hold your breath because there is no way in heck I did the things I'm about to expound upon.

First of all and just to put everybody's mind at ease about the quality of activities I come up with to entertain the kiddo... I do not ever drag the vacuum cleaner out just so he can push it around and make vrooming noises.  Furthermore, there is no way that I would ever stick in back in the closet without, ya know, plugging it in, turning it on, and actually doing some much-needed floor cleaning.

And since the kiddo insists upon "helping" when I clean the lavatory, I have not settled for keeping him OUT of the toilet instead of AWAY from it altogether.  After all what kind of mother would let her child put his hands anywhere near the john?

I should also point out that I am not a backslidden bum who laid out of Wednesday AND Sunday night services.  Really, I'm not.

Just to include ye olde hubby in this time-honored Monday tradition... he definitely did not take a sick day on Friday and then go out for lunch with me and the kiddo before his doctor's appointment.  He also did not go wander around Sam's Club for a half hour or so while waiting for his prescription.  Because, ya know, sick people tend to stay in bed or at least at home.

Something I never do when we visit either of our parents houses is pretend that I'm so engrossed in something that I fail to notice the kiddo wreaking various types of havoc and just let the g-parents deal with it.  That would be totally irresponsible.

And finally, since I actually DID get up early enough to get my daily Bible reading in before church on Sunday, I know it definitely was not the fact that I had to read PostSecret before going to get ready that made us late to Sunday School.

...

Oh, and I'm not ever the least bit of a hypocrite.

Cheers!

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being carried

My thoughts tonight are on difficult things that I (thankfully) don't know enough about to write down anything coherent.  That sentence was even kinda hazy actually... Nevertheless, it's a quarter after midnight and I'm sitting in the stillness of my bedroom considering the death of one's own child.  This is a topic that most people obviously wouldn't choose to think about, but tonight I've been looking at it in a peaceful and non-terrifying (somehow) way.

A while after my own child was born, God made me see my lack of control in sustaining my own child's life and it was a bitter taste of that side of parenthood that seems to crouch in the corners of our minds and which we try to ignore.  But what about the ones who are thrown headlong into that dark corner? What about the ones are forced to deal with this thought that I can barely approach without tears?

My mother spoke today with a family acquaintance who lost her only daughter over 20 years ago in a terrible car accident.  All these years later, this poor lady is still so smothered by grief that she more or less can't live a normal life.  It's written all across her face and every time you speak to her, she always always ends up talking about her daughter and usually her death.

Today she was mad because she had been to a Bible study where there was a lady talking on and on (the way mothers will sometimes do) about her own daughter and her motherly concerns for her even though she's a grown woman.  The still-grieving woman told my mom that the only thing she could think was, "Have you ever watched your daughter die on the side of the road?"

So I was rolling all of this over in my mind as I was laying down with my kiddo tonight and I wondered lazily what the response would have been had she actually asked the woman that question.  And I thought, ya know, what are the odds that the other woman would say, "Yes, actually... I did watch my daughter die... and yes, it was horrible and yes, I still hurt like most people can't imagine and yes, I still think about her every single day... but I'm living my life anyway because not living my life isn't going to bring her back or do anybody else any good at all."

And then I thought of my sweet mother-in-law.  Because I'm fairly certain that she would answer that question pretty close to exactly that way.

And I thought about how different my mother-in-law is from the other lady who I've been talking about.  And I just had to wonder why there was a such a stark difference...

I could only come up with one answer:

God.

Because some people, in the face of grief, look at God like an outsider.  Like they're standing in the center of the circle of their grief and God is just outside the edge.  And they may reach out to hold His hand, but it's always at arms length.  

But some people, in the face of grief, allow God into that grief and cling to Him the way a sick child clings to his parent... giving up everything and knowing that He can and will take care of it all.

I sincerely pray that I (or anyone reading this will) never have to face these things, but there are so many areas in my life where I could certainly stand to let God in a little bit more.

How much sweeter could my life be if I allowed myself to be carried?

"...casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you." (I Peter 5:7)

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Hell hath no fury...

... like a child who's been tricked into taking bad-tasting medicine.

My kiddo and I have been struck for the last week (give or take) with this blah head cold thing that's going around.  Not fun, but thank goodness it was that and not the stomach bug.  It's over quicker, but ugh... I'd rather blow my nose 447 times than throw up once.  And I'd much rather blow mine AND the kiddo's nose however many times than for both of us to be throwing up... because that would leave ye olde hubby o' mine in charge and since he's pretty much a sympathetic vomiter... yeah... it wouldn't be pretty.

So, anyway, I bit the bullet last Friday and decided to take Little Dude to the doctor, which I despise with every fiber of my being  since it's a den of germs and other microbial creepy crawlies this time of year.  And since it was the afternoon, which they leave open for call-ins I figured it would be worse.  As it turns out, I was right... there were about 4 dozen people waiting in the pediatric department, about half of them actually waiting just to check in, and the well-child waiting room had tumbleweeds blowing through it.  There were lethargic, peaked looking children languishing over the sides of chairs and a lot of annoyed or exhausted looking parents.

As it turns out, Doc said my boy had an infection in his left ear and a "croupy cough," which I'm 99% just means a croupy-sounding cough and not actually "the croup." She prescribed him the old standby amoxicillin (which turned out to be orange flavored and not pink and bubblegum flavored... what is the world coming to?) and a steroid (which sounds something like Prednisone but with an extra syllable) for his cough.

The orange-flavored stuff has not given us the first problem and he seems to remember that it tastes ok.  He's taken it just fine every time.  The steroid is a different story altogether.  The first time he took it I actually still had somewhat of a sense of smell and I could tell it smelled sort of like Robitussin, which tastes awful, so I imagine it's not good.  The first time he took it, of course, he didn't know what to expect and swallowed it right down and shivered and shuddered and made a whole range of entertaining faces.  The next 2 times, he went ahead and took it with some complaint... the next 2 times, most (if not all) came right back out.

So, I called Doc this morning to see what I should do about that and she informed me that if he seemed to be getting better that I could just stop the medicine altogether.  I'm not one to use punctuation with no words surrounding it, but ?????.  I'm wondering what the point is of prescribing medicine for a particular length of time if you can just stop taking it whenever you want.  Oh well...

I decided I'd go ahead and see how much of it I could get him to take without causing too much trauma or too much of a mess.  My mom suggested I try a spoon and just pour it down rather than using the dropper thingy I had been using which seemed to give him more of an opportunity to spew it back out.

So, tonight when it came medicine time, I got the spoon all ready, hubby restrained him, I tried to bribe him with mini marshmallows, he screamed and wiggled, and when his mouth was really wide open I just poured it down.

Now... I've seen this kid upset before, but Oh. My. Gosh.  He was what I'm pretty sure should be described as P'd OFF.  He thrashed like I've never seen him thrash and threw himself a little tantrum.  So, of course, natural reaction, my hubby started to fuss at him... and I was like, "Honey, he sorda has a right to be mad... I'd be pretty mad, too." So we just let him holler for a couple of minutes while I got him a few M&Ms out in a bowl and started a Baby Einstein video.  And, of course, as soon as he saw the Disney intro he started smiling and eating his snack.

Nothing a little chocolate and classical music can't fix.

It's remarkable how much this child is like his mother.

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Not me Monday!

Well, this is my first time not me-ing after happening upon the fabulously fun MckBlog My Charming Kids.  And since I feel obligated to give credit where credit is due (and because it's awesome), I wouldn't have happened upon this blog at all had it not been for the Angie Smith's amazing blog... which I most certainly do not check obsessively.

To get this started, I have not been using the same kleenexes to wipe mine and my son's noses because I was too lazy and felt too much like death warmed over to bother getting up to get a different one.  And for the record, my husband did not say that he refused to bring me another kleenex if I was going to use the same one for both of us again.

Furthermore, I did not lay on the couch all day yesterday and do absolutely nothing unless my kid was hungry or it was time for his medicine.  And the extent of my interaction with him absolutely was not "Blue's Clues or Veggietales?" Besides all that I definitely did not miss both church services :c(

Oh and, I did not spend all of yesterday exploring the amazing textures of pizza, White Castle burgers, and powdered sugar donuts.  It would have been so silly and pointless to eat all that considering I can't taste a darn thing.

And unfortunately, since the evils of sicklihood have invaded our home for the last week... I don't have any other shameful things to say I haven't done because I haven't really done... anything.  Well, other than blow my nose and look generally like some mixture of Medusa and a stoner.

But to break the rules just a scoche, I'm pleased to say that I AM starting to feel better.  And I'm thankful for that.

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