I am sleeping better these days -- almost too much. I don't know if that's because my asthma is better and my thyroid is still kicking my ass or what. I called my doctor yesterday and asked if I could get a thyroid test sooner than three weeks out because I'm still feeling pretty lousy -- and that was after two weeks of feeling terrific. It sucks when at 4PM, you're just ready to take a nap. I've had about 5 weeks of medication, so it wasn't too unreasonable or anything. He said sure, so this morning, I got up at the asscrack of dawn (anything before 7AM is the buttcrack of Eos in my world) and drove to the lab to get blood drawn. I played solitaire for about 45 minutes before I finally got seen.

My mom is reminding me why I am doing the right thing with my asthma -- she got a chest x-ray and it was so bad that she actually has pockets of trapped air in her lungs because the passage ways are so swollen. She's JUST now getting on inhaled steroids -- which I've been begging her to do for years. She and my dad visited my brother and apparently, my brother told her "people DIE" from asthma and suggested she was well on her way. Especially, last year, she coughed so hard she broke the cartilage between her ribs and had a miserable summer. I've been telling her for YEARS. If I had been there, I would have simply driven there, picked her up and driven her to Hanover -- which is the nearest good hospital in the area.

God, I hope when I'm old, I don't do stupid stubborn things like refuse to go to the doctor when I clearly need to go. What's worse is that when they are in Florida in the winter, she has no doctor there to see. Find one, dammit.

I told her yesterday that I was worried she was going to be one of those little old ladies in the supermarket, carrying her oxygen tank in tow and that I didn't want that for her. She admitted that she doesn't either.

I guess on the plus side, it's good she finally did something, but it KILLS me that it took that stubborn broad that long.

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I'm getting used to the rhythm of being a stay-at-home mom with Genny and so is she. She was brutally difficult for a week or so, and now, she's not. She tells me when she's going outside. She lets me know where she's playing. We get to read together, draw together, play computer together, and sometimes, we watch Sesame Street together, though I usually take my shower and dress for at least half of it and do dishes in the kitchen, if at all possible. I don't mind the Count, Big Bird, Grover, or Oscar, though Oscar's wormy friend is on my "feed the birds" list. However, the sound of Elmo's voice simply makes me want to rip all my hair out in clumps, after which I dream of shoving my tufted fist down his red furry throat to shut his ass up.

He's just not cute, has NEVER been cute, and will never cease to get on my everliving nerves. Of course, because I loathe Elmo, Genny adores him. What's worse is that she also likes Barney. She'll probably like rap, too.

I saw a Weird Al video last night that showed Barney getting killed and I could simply not restrain my enthusiasm for his demise. On the BBS boards, there used to be a die.barney.die newsgroup. I'm sure it was not started by adolescent boys/men, but rather by annoyed and frustrated mothers of toddlers.

Die. Annoying Stupid Toddler Creature. Die.