I've been so tired and sore -- the heat swells everything and mild arthritis becomes agonizing pain that little relieves. Somewhere I have a script for celebrex, but I can't find the damned thing and I'm still hurting significantly.

And amidst all this agony, Mike and I remembered that we have a foot massager. It's one of these warming machines with accupressure thingys on it and I swear, my legs just turned into lime jello and slid under the blankets.

And wow, did I sleep. Last night, we both had every intention of porking each other's brains out and then we fell asleep holding each other. I slept for nearly 12 hours. I felt old and silly for doing so, but it was lovely, nonetheless. A blessed luxury, for sure.

Bear was gone most of the day at another kid's house (LaDawn's eldest) and then we invited LaDawn and kidlets over for dinner. I found steak in the cheap meat pile at the grocery store and snagged it and threw it on the grill. I swear the ribeye was soooooo juicy, it is the only reason I don't go fully vegetarian again. I grew up on a beef farm and wow, do I love steak. I imagine that the borderline anemic thing has something to do with that, too, but we also eat so much chicken and turkey, that steak is such a fabulous rarity.

Tomorrow, I'll grill the tequila lime turkey breast, cook wild rice, and have a big salad. But tonight, I ate steak, perfectly happy to clog up my colon, thankyouverymuch. I also baked brownies because I knew LaDawn loves chocolate and that all of our kids would love them. I baked them with strips...one strip was plain, one was with coconut only, one was coconut and nuts, and the last one was just nuts. Kind of weird, I know, but not everyone is crazy about those toppings, so I made it a choice thing, which worked out well for the kids, who picked and chose happily.

It was nice for the kids to play together. Sitting outside, LaDawn's youngest tossed a fit and wouldn't stop, so we sent him to our big rock to tantrum until he was done. It was pretty funny because he was kind of howling on the rock like a coyote, as LaDawn noted, but the rock was a nice place for him to go to get away from everyone and still be in eye's reach.

The two youngest of our kids went egg collecting and then went inside and washed eggs together. I think I will bring LaDawn's littles up every few days to collect and wash eggs with Genny and then take the kids down to the store to sell them and let them split the cash. I think it's cool that they enjoyed it and enjoyed it together.
When I jokingly suggested it in front of Russell, he said,"Cool! Then I won't have to do it any more!" So much for reverse psychology!

Before dinner, Mike and I had mostly run around the small city near us. We'd poked around a bike shop to see about replacing Genny's bike tube. I also asked about a bike and a Trail-a-bike for Genny. I think it would be nice for us to be able to ride together. I won't be able to do it every day for a long time -- too out of shape, but I figure I can alternate between biking, swimming, and walking to get myself into shape.

Walking right now is painful with the arthritis in my feet and ankles, so I'm hoping to swim tomorrow, unless we go blackberrying. If we go blackberrying, I'm taking tylenol and hoping for the best.

I'm getting zonked, so I'm out, baby.

No more apnea for me. Yahoooooo!

The appraiser arrives tomorrow and while the house is beginning to shine, it still has much more sparkle to go.

So tired already.

I have a sleep study tonight to see if the tonsillectomy reduced the amount of obstruction involved in my apnea.

I'm sure hoping so.

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We're getting the house appraised sometime this week and I'm still feeling like it's a filthy pit.

It's not, but it's not as pretty as it was at Christmas. Also, I think it's worth a lot less than the banker thought, so we'll see. It'd be worth paying stuff off, regardless, however.

Genny and I cleaned a particularly filthy corner of my bedroom today. It seems fair, as I had to help her clean all of the corners in her insanely crapped up room. I was actually surprised I got a corner clean.

The laundry still beckons and the kitchen is inching ever closer to some semblance of clean. It's just so fucking hot -- even with the cooler on. I would give my left nipple to have a small air conditioning unit in my bedroom and in the kitchen. Hell, I'm not using my left nipple in this heat -- it's too damned hot to "nip out." We've actually broken a record for the most consecutive days over 100 here. Last night's low temperature, was the highest low recorded. I know it's only a few freaking weeks a year, but DUDE, I want air conditioned comfort because the swamp cooler isn't cutting it.

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I finished the Harry Potter book and I have to say that the ending was very unsatisfactory. It seemed like she was looking for a way to end it and couldn't do it gracefully. I was sorely disappointed in the ending, but enjoyed the first 400 pages of the book. I felt like the last 50 odd pages were not as well-woven as the other books had been and were really awkward.

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The stuff my husband finds on the internet. I tell you. I've been laughing so hard that I think I peed myself. You must read the comments. Not to mention that the name of the vehicle is apparently a hip and happening term for a woman's butt, according to Dave Chappelle.

I got back another abnormal pap smear with some squamous cells that are more developed than they should be. I forget the terminology, but they are a little more mutated than they should be. I go in for a biopsy in a week or so. Then, perhaps another leep procedure. We're already talking about the future of removing my uterus and keeping my ovaries. *sigh*

My throat's tons better, though my knee is still kind of sensitive. I can do stuff, but a lot of time on my feet makes it swell and ache. But that's also true of my throat. If I spend a lot of time using my voice, my throat swells up and aches.

I'm overall feeling better. I was pretty bummed about the abnormal pap smear again and cried a little when I found out. It's just frustrating to never feel like I have a healthy moment to myself, you know?

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Yesterday, I took the kids and a couple of their friends to Barnes and Noble for the Harry Potter party and we made crafts to beat the band, ate out, did more crafts, then I gave the kids to Mike who took them to see Willy Wonka, while I went curtain shopping with a girlfriend (we're refinancing again because our house is worth that much more and we're going to do lots more stuff to the house, but we want to make it pretty for the appraiser). I'm picking up my book this morning, but with the refinance, I'm guessing that I'll be reading it somewhat slower than I'd like. They gave out plastic Harry Potter eyeglass frames with the pre-order slips, as an added bonus -- props that will be ferreted away in the Halloween box.

I had so much fun with the kids and they were sooo happy. I did the crafts right along with them, bought a ton a books, and sucked on a frappucino from Starbucks. Unlike the kids', mine had caffeine. I bought lots and lots of books. I love going to the book store -- far more than going to the library. There's nothing like the stiff spine, bleached paper scent, unsmudged cover of a brand new book. I also enjoy smug victories like finding that prequel to the sequel I really wanted to read downstairs in the bargain section. I also get a girl woody for giving kids new books that they really really want.

I had Russell's friends S-boy and S-girl with us and they both wanted a book. Their folks can't afford stuff like that and I knew how much it would mean to both of them. Mind you, I bought S-boy the $20+ book, which was more than I wanted to spend, but that was the only book he really wanted. The kid hates reading and English. After having the teacher that Russell had and that our whole family loathes, I don't blame him for hating English, so I bought him the one damned book he'd read.

Big. Girl. Wood.

I can't help myself. I know that teaching, even when I'm not getting paid for it, is a kind of mental illness, but I love it. I live for it. I look for opportunities for it.

Big. Girl. Wood.

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The appraiser will be here this week -- I am scouring my house.

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If you want to suck the joy right out of your life, coffeedrinkers, you should check out the calorie count in starbucks frappucinos. My gynecologist had warned me that they were nutritional bad news, but damn, I coulda had a big mac. I'm returning to my iced sugar free vanilla 2% latte.

I hate reality.

The cooler is working. We changed out the filters and it's blasting away in the livingroom and we're all sooooo happy.

We got rock today. They couldn't fit their truck through the gate, so they dumped it at the garden gate which means we'll have to use the wheelbarrel to get it where we need it, which kind of blows. And stuff.

I'm so tired. I'm getting a nap.

It's too hot to post a blog. It's too hot to have sex. It's too hot to move. It's just too damned hot.

I'm going outside to watch the airplane that's divebombing our house.

So, nyah.

My husband is a real asshole regarding physical labor.

We're trying to get everything set up for the xeriscape in the back yard by tomorrow because the gravel guy comes to dump 8 yards of stone down tomorrow.

At a spry 29 years, his job is to do the hard physical stuff, but I did landscaping in college, so I totally know my shit.

Did he ask me how to lay the tarp and how long it should be? Why NO.

Did he ask me which pegs to use where? Why NO. He did not.

Did he have all the freaking sprinkler lines capped that he was supposed to on the weekend when it was barely 80 degrees? Why no. He was working on them in the dark last night because that was the only time it wasn't 90 degrees or above. Did he douse his wife several times in the process with little warning? Well, yes, he *did* do that.

Then he had the unmitigated gall to be cussing and crabbing, too.

Did the more mature 41 year partner consider taking a hammer to his head instead of to the stupid pegs as she was trying to fix his mess in the HOT dark? Noooooo. Not me. I'm a good wife.

Did I feel sorry for him when he got bit by an annoyed non-toxic spider? Nope. Not a whit. (I paid that eight-legged friend a lot of live flies to do that.)

The lawyer thing was scary.

I guess what I came to understand is that I've been living under the shadow of the fear that this abusive SOB will show back up in my and my son's life. It's terrifying and I've been carrying that burden for a long time.

We went ahead with it -- completely legal and above board at Mike and Bear's request. I would have preferred to go to a different lawyer, lie my ass off, and protect my child, but the guys said no. What they did in that small gesture was relieve me of carrying that burden alone, which has had me fighting tears all day. I've always been the strong one and always carried this by myself. I don't have to any more. I don't know why it sends streams of tears down my face, but it does.

I'm absolutely terrified that this fucking slimeball will show up after we post the abandonment stuff in the paper. I know the odds are slim, but my heart fears for my darling son. I also know that after 12 and a half years of not being there, that I totally have the upper hand, legally, but it doesn't stop the nagging worrying. He's my first baby and I've had to protect him for so long that I guess I am used to that role and that maybe it's hard to surrender to the possibility that we'll both be free from an abuser's memory and really and truly get to move on. I guess I'm also trying to protect my heart against the possibility of him showing up.

I'm guessing that I'll be contacting my doctor and asking for a sleeping pill for a while. I'm a freaking wreck. Bear is the best damned kid a mom could ever ask for and I'd die, if this asshole showed up and threw a monkeywrench into his life. I'd still feel like his victim, too, and that makes me deeply sad.

Well, Mike and I tackled the yards. I did the front and he did the back.

He wrestled with several large sage brushes and quail berry bushes and won. He got the sprinkler system working, cuz it were broke, and carefully edged around the cement curbing in the back. (It came with the house -- you know *I* would never put up chainlink fencing and cement curbing, c'mon now!)

I got the front area cleaned up. I put plants in pots, transplanted a few things. I actually finally have my annuals in and put peppers in several pots, to keep them out of the mouths of chickens, rabbits, and quails. Furry, feathery little bastards! I put my rocking chair on the porch, so I can watch the sun set, the stars rise, and survey my little piece of heaven on earth. Well, that and I'm old and creaky.

I've got to get Mike to get the tarp down, so I can set up plants, so he knows where the sprinklers will go. Hopefully, that will happen tonight, so all I have to do tomorrow is drop the plants and walking stones on the tarp, so when the rock truck comes Wednesday, I will simply be raking rock around my pretties.

Overall, I was very happy yesterday to get the plants in, the trash out, and generally make my space pretty. I've been feeling like crud for so long, that I guess it was important to have one place feel pretty and in turn, feel pretty myself.

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Today, we go to the adoption lawyer. There's a lot of stuff to figure out and determine. For example, I've never listed Bear's biological father anywhere, not even the birth certificate. When I was 5 months pregnant, I went to court, wearing a black maternity dress, to try to make it look like I was just fat, not pregnant, to file a restraining order against him because he was taking swings at me. I never mentioned that I was pregnant in the restraining order, and the judge gave me the full three years available. I don't know if he did that because he could tell I was pregnant or because I wrote a persuasive case for getting the order. But I was very careful.

The thing is, if we file abandonment charges against an unknown dad, then Bear will never have to deal with the guy, unless he chooses to. Right now, he is adamant that he does not want to meet the guy. I've been truthful with him over time. About a year ago, he asked why we didn't get along and I truthfully told him that the guy had been taking swings at me when I was pregnant. Bear was horrified.

I've told Bear that when he is older, he may have some kind of life crisis and decide that it's important to him to find his father, but that I really want to let that be his choice.

We talk to the lawyer today. We find out if she's one of those rare breed of lawyers with scruples, or if she'll work with our desire to protect and keep Bear's life stable and make the choice to find his father his own. My hope is that she'll be more interested in what's good for my little bear than what's completely and perfectly honest.

Today, we gave our children away with some money to Sarah, who took them up to the Lake to play putt-putt golf with them and have lunch. After, they go to church and whatever else, and then come home to us.

In the interim, we have dastardly plans for the three mean roosters in the big chicken house. We're going to dump them up on BLM land as coyote bait. We were supposed to have hens and instead ended up with a bunch of hens and three obnoxious roosters. They fight viciously, one has gone after the kids, and it just wasn't what we orderd, ya know?

Twee in the other coop is a nice rooster, which I handraised (used to carry him about in my pocket when he got cold), who has a completely pacifistic small flock, which he would protect. He won't take any shit and as the only rooster, he'll make sure that the old hens are nice to HIS hens, until the pecking order gets settled with everyone. He also does not allow squabbling amongst his hens. If they step out of line, he basically smacks them back into line. He's not vicious about it, but they mind him, which means that the old hens will be learning new behavior patterns.

We're sick of having two coops and the mice that they bring and I think we're going to clear the other shed space for pygmy goats next spring. We can buy kid pygmy goats in spring shortly after they're weaned. We need something to trim the brush on the hill and they're cheap landscapers. We have a critter waterer outside for them, so that's already handled, so it'll be a matter of buying them bedding and hay. We can have that delivered from the local grain store down the hill or just stuff a couple bales in the back of the van and drive them up.

We'll have to protect them from coyotes, but my experience is you get them trained to a grain bucket and they'll just come running when they see you out there with a bucket for them and you can stable them up at night and set them out in the morning. In winter, we may just have to stable them in a small stomping yard, so they aren't floundering about in snow drifts, but I think that's totally doable. Mike wasn't thrilled to pieces at the prospect, but he agreed it's cheaper than figuring out landscaping on the hill. Because they are small, they'll also be more manageable than big goats and less likely to be able to reach low branches on trees and jump fences.

Well, I've got to get housework done while the kids are gone. Opportunity awaits. Though...overall..I'd rather take a nap.

We were supposed to get such work done today and not a damned thing got done, really.

Mike wanted to see the Fantastic 4, so we went. Genny freaked a little at the intense parts, curling up on me or Mike, but generally, we all enjoyed it very much.

Sarah called and she was depressed, so I invited her up and she stayed til late. It was just nice. Tomorrow, we actually work on the back yard.

*sigh*

Purposely fucking off, however, was really awesome.

It's cooler today. When you've been hovering around 95 for over a freaking week, that 10 degrees is a big deal.

They're saying that it's the calm before the storm though because it's supposed to hit 100 degrees plus next week. The reason I tolerate living here is because there's really only one month of miserable weather -- July. I get sick of snow, I get sick of winter, but I enjoy the cooler weather. In July, I could easily be rude, obnoxious, and physically obtrusive to get near air conditioning.

Apologies in advance, because I can guarantee you there will be much more whining about the heat from me before the month is out. Fat melts, don't you know. ("I'm melting! I'm melting!")

I've got my period and as always, I'm just miserable in cramps and exhaustion. I wasn't wildly uncomfortable yesterday, but I was so tired. I couldn't get the energy to clean until the heat died down some. I managed to get a load of dishes filled and started, three loads of laundry folded, and then I just kind of collapsed and fell asleep. I also ate way too much yesterday. I even tried filling up on a gigantic bowl of salad, but still wanted ice cream when I was done. I hate my hormones. I even hate the ones the doctor gives me. I only like it when I make whore moans for my husband.

Hoooocheeeeeeee. Yup, that's me.

Horrifyingly enough, it's into July and I'm JUST now finishing up putting in the rest of my garden. If I whine at the end of the summer about how little produce I have, remind me that if I don't get the garden in at the beginning of June, then I can't whine.

Just once, I'd like a spring where I have nothing planned and can get the garden in on Memorial Day weekend. Just once. I think I'll get some tomatoes; I already have fruit on several plants. I think the peppers will hatch, if I can just get them all in. The cucumbers may be too danged hot in the next week. I'm going to have to water them carefully and dutifully for the next week.

Yesterday, I bought the landscape tarp, pegs, and some more plants. I think I've figured out what I'm doing for the yard. It's not a perfect solution, but it'll do for now. When I get it done, I'll post pix of the before and after variety.

Right now, I have to go wallow about in my hormones and contemplate the removal of the interesting textures of my kitchen floor.

Just shaddup.

Today was my appointment day for the week. Unfortunately, I managed to fuck up 2 of three appointments. I had a PT appointment for Russell, but spent close to an hour searching for my keys. I learned that one should never send a reticent 11 year old to look for one's keys in weird spots. My freaking PDA told me my dentist appointment was 1 hour AFTER it actually was. Of course, they can't reschedule until late August or September and by the time I get my stupid teeth cleaned it's going to have been a couple years. It's pissing me off because my pda does this a lot and because my computer puked, I had no way to cross check it.

However, the biggest news occurred at the appointment we made it to -- the eye doctor. Both kids require glasses. Genny more than Russell. It makes sense in retrospect because she was so on top of her letters and the sounds they make and yet, she seemed still to be struggling and couldn't seem to make that jump to reading that we had been expecting, though numbers were easier for some reason. I think that was me, too, when I was found to have a vision problem in the first grade. Russell only needs them for reading, computer, etc. Genny's going to need them from the time she gets up in the morning until bedtime.

We bought the virtually indestructible frames for them, but it was a horrifying $150+ even WITH insurance. Of course, Russell had to have the pair that was an additional $111 more because he wanted bigger glass to look through. *sigh* I was bummed out about the unexpected expense of it, but I paid them part of it and will be able to pay the rest next week after payday. I was also bummed that what few genes the kids got from me involved bad eyesight! Yeesh!

Couldn't they get my super curly pinky toe or my long fingers?

Other than that, Sarah and I talked last night.

I'm considering working again -- probably next year because Bear is going to need adjustment support getting into the junior high environment and I suspect Genny is going to need some getting accustomed to Kindergarten being a boring academic adventure frought with socialization trials. I've got Ladawn covering the homeschooling academics for her, next year. I'll be able to request testing for her to begin at the beginning of first grade because she's super bright and I will be getting the gifted and talented IEP put in place for her. I think though, I need that year of not working to be there for the kids.

If it turns out to be a smoother transition than expected, then I may work sooner.

The thing is that Sarah runs this afterschool literacy program. I'd be great for it and because we're such good friends, we'd teamwork the hell outta it.

Things to look forward to, along with a reduced waistline and metabolism disorder drugs. ;)

Well, the visit to the mountains to see Mike's grandparents over the holiday weekend was really fun. I took the kids to a mine where we got a tour. In the process, we saw bats of the endangered species variety, a rattle snake, a hard rock mine museum (more info), and relics of the gold rush in California.

We really wanted to go to the river, but the river was very fast, very cold, and very high. I didn't have life jackets for the kids and I wasn't going to bring the kids to the river without them.

We went to a craft fair -- with about 8 booths, but I had one of the best smoothies ever at the same time. I got the hokiest purse ever because that's all they had, but I also got some awesome woven place mats with chile peppers on it. Wheeeeee!

Russell started acting weird yesterday -- he fell asleep face first in strawberry pancakes! We frantically drove him to the emergency room here. It turned out, that he'd accidentally taken his sleeping meds and not his regular meds, so by 4PM, he started to come out of it. By that time, however, plans for a bbq with friends were cancelled, so we came home and made hot dogs, roasted corn, and ate sliced watermelon til we were stuffed.

Yesterday, we went to fireworks in the smaller of the two cities around us and I was really enjoying the sense of the small town flavor. I guess because the kids were amazed at the fireworks which were short-lived and which were just not that spectacular to me. I've seen them shot over the San Francisco Bay, so I'm getting jaded in my old age, but I really enjoyed their pleasure. We had every intention of getting ice cream afterwards, but the 31 flavors place had closed early! Of all the nerve! ;) We got some shakes at a fast food place instead and came home and crawled into bed.
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We've been trying to make sense of our disheveled house today. If you find any way to hevel our house, it'd be great if you emailed us.

Yesterday was the first hot day of the summer, so this is the first hot night of the summer and it's well...hot.

And my stomach is bugging me. I had a cup of yogurt last night in the aftermath of the excessive porcelain goddess attendance I did at the waterpark, and the percocet helped slow things down, but now my tummy has woken up and is letting me know about its unhappiness.

And I'm sad because one of my dearest friends has had to move her blog again because her nearly ex-husband is behaving rather vindictively and tracking her down on the net. I've been careful not to list her link, but damn.

So today, was the waterpark extravaganza.

Fun, sunburns (despite copious amounts of sunscreen), fried foods, and soda was had by all.

And my damned antibiotics had me dashing to the bathroom, crapping my brains out in an effort to dislodge tiles via stench.

Heck, last night, Sarah came by and hey, I've farted with Sarah before. She's family. It's cool. But my farts were of the "what died in your duodenum?" variety and she was gasping for air and cursing my name. I kept apologizing profusely, because I really had made every effort to drop a bomb in the corner where it wouldn't harm anyone and I swear it followed me around like a little sibling.

I'm so tired, that if I didn't know by looking that my legs weren't actually jello, I think I'd believe I had lime jello floating with carrots and pineapple ambulating my body, if someone told me. I should be doing laundry, but there's that whole walking down the hall thing to the garage that seems to be keeping me from doing it.

I'm such a wimp.

I woke up and noticed, hey, my ears feel a little better. I could hardly believe meds would kick in that fast, but maybe the mind is a powerful healer and I really needed it to work fast.

I slept well and I even got a nap and am looking forward to a good night's sleep.

I didn't get near the laundry done that I had hoped to do, but I got some of it done. Now, it's just a matter of getting all that folded clean clothing out of the livingroom and put away.

Tomorrow, I take the kids to the waterpark. I called up Russell's best friend and we're heading out tomorrow after swim lessons. It's going to be an abominably long day for the kids, but that means they'll sleep on Friday morning, which means the drive up to see Grammy and Pop will be pleasant and involve less bickering, providing I get my damned car back.

The shop keeps telling me that I'll be getting my car and then today, I got told, probably by Friday.

Probably by Friday? Dude, I have reservations. And I'm not driving up there in a freaking tuna fish can compact. When I suggested that we should talk to the car rental place because I know they're booked as hell, the guy said we shouldn't "jump the gun." I called the car places and got myself hooked up. Jump this, butthead. *extended middle finger*

All car dealership guys are fuckerheads.

Yeah, so after a week of antibiotics, the first ear infection is still there and now, the other ear is infected.

I'm taking a new medication. Dammit.

It's a medication that requires you take yogurt with active cultures, too. So tonight, I made fajitas with a lot of bell pepper and onions and dolloped some yogurt on with the lettuce and salsa. Good schtuff, Maynard.

I had Mike buy me mushrooms, so I can make myself breakfast quesadillas, which I can put on more yogurt and salsa.

The digestive disagreement between me and a penicillin derivative has already begun. I don't care how many generations removed it is from penicillin, it still gives me the runs. *sigh* I should have had yogurt earlier.

I'm probably going to buy some acidophilous milk tomorrow and drink some with each meal, so I have a chance of getting through this without a raging yeast infection and a completely thrashed colon. I'd just like to say for the record that all this health shit completely blows trout.

__

This weekend, we're going up to visit Mike's grandparents. Mostly because they need help with the store and because we want to see Mike's brother, we decided it would be a good idea. We also will be able to see fireworks at a neighboring town on Saturday night with the kids and be back on time on Monday to watch them from the hill with the kids.

I'm looking forward to the trip and I think we're going to enjoy it a great deal. His grandparents are kind and love to see the kids. The kids might get bored, so we'll bring some board games that they can play in the back of the store. Kevin already asked us to bring Stratego. I'll bring a few things for the kids, too.

My throat is getting worse, rather than better. Very raw, very red, and the ear infection, while improved isn't gone. It's kind of maintaining things at a marginally better place than I was. I still feel like I'm talking around a golf ball in my throat.

I was given more antibiotics today of the same kind with the idea that maybe a few more days would do the trick, which they're not.

It's very frustrating.

I'm sick of being sick and not too thrilled about being wiped out tired. I'm too tired to do the stuff that I need to in the course of the day, though, which is difficult at best.

I'm seeing the doctor again tomorrow. I want to know if the meds I'm taking cover strep throat, because if not, I'd swear that's what I have.

I'd give my left nipple just to be able to yawn without crying out or wincing in pain.

My children can be so odd sometimes.

Genny, who usually freaks out about bugs, spiders, and dogs, found a spider in her room. She put it in a box and named it Blake.

No, I don't know why she named it Blake.

After about a week, the spider was still kicking, but we were getting nervous about its well-being and we had to strongly convince Genny that Blake missed his friends and family and would sincerely like to eat and drink something.

She was very upset.

And then we put him out by some water and she saw that he wanted a drink. Mind you, I've never seen a spider drink quite like that, but the spider did drink upon release. We also assured her that he needed to go eat bugs for us.

So every so often, she goes out into the yard looking for Blake. I hope Blake has the good Spider sense to run the hell away.

Mel came over today for her goodbye barbecue. We talked and talked all day. It was wonderful.

I am going to miss her so very much. I know I'll still go visit and stuff, but it's a 6 hour drive now, versus a 20 minute one.

*sigh*

I've been kind of weepy behind my eyes all day.

Things I learned today:

1. Elvin Bishop rocks!!!!!!


2. 41 year old women with a recent knee surgery under their belt, should not tell their husbands that the shoes with the modest heels are "ok."


3. Shoes with a modest heel are not okay for dancing in, if it's 1-3 months post op on your knee surgery.


4. Dancing, much like bicycling, is something you never forget how to do, even barefoot.


5. Even fat women in their 40's get hit on.


6. Flashing your wedding ring several times, eventually gets their attention and the perverts back the fuck off.


7. Husbands, who don't dance with their wives, should. Especially, if they're 6'7" and kind of brooding and dark looking.


8. When my kids are counting their blessings at the dinner table in my absence, that they count their mom and dad's happiness as a blessing.


9. Any restaurant with the name Ruby in it, is damned good.


10. My husband and I need more dates.

So tired.

It's a mantra.

The kids have been feeling crappy along with me. I'm completely sleep-deprived and miserable.

I'm going to bed.

Today was kinda boring.

I enjoyed being at the pool with the kids and LaDawn's mom and Tracy. We kind of hung out and talked.

Afterwards, I went to the place where I bought the $10 capezio tights for Genny's dance recital that I never ended up using and got back my $10.70 and took the kids to McDonalds.

What is it about McDonald's playland? There is ALWAYS one freaking screamer kid. It's the kid who is screaming, in apparent delight freaking constantly, whose screams register in decibel levels I was fairly sure I'd lost in my encroaching old age. And it's always the kid of the parents who are too freaking oblivious to give a flying crap.

Today's screamer came with a mother who had two out of three girls with rat's nests in their hair. I know sometimes it's easy to forget to run a brush through a kid's hair, but to forget hair that is sticking up in the back and is tangled into whole new macrame designs on TWO kids and to have the Mickey D's screamer seems like rampant neglect or something. I just felt kind of bad for the two girls with yucky hair and pissed about the screamer.

He finally let out one more blood curdling scream of delight, and my worst ear about split, so I got kids and we blew out of there, muttering something completely curmudgeony about "damned kids."

I tried to get Genny to nap.

No dice.

I'm almost positive she has an ear infection now because she's so cranky and so pissy and so freakin' congested. We'll see how she is tomorrow, but if we do the same shit tomorrow as today, I may be responsible for leaving throttling marks around her neck or leaving clumps of my hair on the floor.

Okay, probably not, but I'm sure it will warrant a call to the pediatrician. Dammit.

---

Mel officially leaves on Monday, so we're having a barbecue and saying goodbye.

I just feel heartbroken and sad and angry and lonely. I've been noticing how we're trying to pull apart and not cry about it. We've been doing nice things for each other and spending lots of time together, but it's difficult.

She gave me the most beautiful thank you card, just for letting her use my gas card for one tank of gas and it made me sad for the future stuff that we won't get to do together. With her pregnant again, I'm sad about not getting to see her much to prepare and shop together. I think that makes me saddest. I do know that I'll be running up my phone bill to talk to her because they probably won't have the money and stuff.

__

Mike's on the bed looking all GQ and I just want to go put my face on his chest and inhale. G'night.

I took Genny to the pediatrician Monday as a follow-up from her emergency room visit. She's still running a low-grade temperature, but he said it was ok to put her in swim lessons today, which she just LOVED. I swear, while Russell is the stone that sinks, Genny is the fish that swims.

On a lark, I asked the pediatrician to look at my ears. They've been excrutiatingly painful, even after the doctor said I should be well-healed after the tonsillectomy.

He said I've got fluid behind one and the other one is bright red and infected.

It explains why I've been having to take pain meds, well after the date that the doctor seemed to think I would be.

I saw the ENT today, who said that 5% of people who have the tonsillectomy get ear infections. Lucky freakin' me. I'm on antibiotics and more painkillers. I will be damned glad to go back to my three pills a day regimen -- my diabetes meds, my thyroid, my asthma.

Ear infections are right up there along with ripping a nail below the quick and childbirth. I hate them and I'm a sad sack of agony the entire time I have them. It also explains why I've been wishing I had an ice pick to puncture my ear drums with. It also explains why the doctor thought I should have been further along in the healing process with my tonsils. Apparently, the half course of antibiotics wasn't enough to keep the infection at bay.

And last night, despite the heating pad on full blast, and vicodan, still kept me up half the night.

It gives me free reign to use a heating pad and moan and groan a lot over the next several days.

I thought I just needed to suck it up and deal. Apparently, that's not the case. I'm just glad I asked rather than continue to suffer along.

Today, we started two weeks of swim lessons, which I know Genny is dying to do and Russell would rather chew glass than do. I'm hoping that Russell will be motivated to move along, this year, because this is a different program, more oriented towards competition. I think he would benefit from swimming competitively enormously and it's something we could do together.

I haven't had yoga for two weeks now. I blew off this week's class because Genny's pediatrician appointment was in the one big town at the same time as yoga was in the other big town. Russell was pissed and hoped that Mike would go, but I think it's safe to say that Mike would rather gnaw off a limb than breathe deeply and even mildly pretzelize himself for yoga. And Mike already had to blow some time for Russell's botox dr. appointment.

The doctor assured us that Russell's muscles will contract again when he grows and he'll need more botox. I can nearly assure him that he's wrong because with the yoga and physical therapy, he's very limber -- more limber than most people and kids I know. I think I will just keep pushing Russell to practice his yoga and to keep in mind how he can control whether or not he gets botox again.

The brush fire just down the hill from us, had Mike and the kids pulling the weeds out of the front. I'm hoping that we can get most of it knocked down and then the rock put down, next week. Brush fire danger is yet another reason, I am NOT doing bark. That one got put out and we've got another several hundred acre one going on about 10 miles from here. We can see the plume of smoke from here. In a couple hours time, it went from 100 acres to 500. Gah.

I'm hoping that we'll have most of it removed by the time we get the money wired into our account, so I can simply go to the rock place, and put in an order.

--

On the happy side of life?

I went to Costco. I love that place. The fruit at this time of year alone justifies the membership. Two boxes of blueberries, a big thing of strawberries, and melons -- I'm a happy happy girl.

I also really think that the furniture they have at Costco is soooo awesome. I just enjoy the chairs and tables and neato things they have and I always want something they have -- not usually in a gotta have it sort way -- just in a wow, that would be cool sort of way.

One year, they had the most gorgeous leather chairs. I would have chewed off my arm to have a beautiful $700 chair like that in my livingroom. And then I remembered that I have kids, and I decided that I'd just rather put a slipcover on what I have than buy something really beautiful and nice that my children would thrash. I'm waiting until I'm retired and I only have to fend the grandchildren off the furniture once or twice a year. That and pine doors inside the house.

Mostly, I'm jonesing for a rectangular outside umbrella for the picnic table. And Costco doesn't have it. I checked. ;)

Genny had a rough night. She couldn't hold anything down, even after they gave her anti-nausea meds, so they started an IV.

I talked with Mike periodically through the night, when I finally fell asleep about 430AM. We talked at 730 and he said he thought they might be coming home, but didn't know. At 930, he called and said he could drive just fine and would be home soon and got home just shy of 10.

They said it was some kind of viral thing. She held down everything she ate today, and we gave her one last dose of anti-nausea stuff tonight before she sees the pediatrician, tomorrow.

Everyone, but Bear, slept all day. I somehow thought that I was going to get up and do all this stuff and then promptly fell asleep in the easy chair in the livingroom because it was hot sandwiched between the fevered Genny and the exhausted heavily snoring Mike.

I got a shower about 430PM.

At 8PM, Mike and I got stuff planted in the garden and chased the "wild chicken" back in her coop because a couple of the tomato plants looked like she'd been pruning them, in her search for food. One of the tomatoes looked liked she'd scratched it into next week, and another had a lot of missing leaf edges. No self-respecting rabbit or squirrel is going to chow down on an evening shade relative, so we figured it had to be her, scratching around in the manure we pulled from the little chicken coop to fertilize the garden looking for spare bits of grain.

__

Mike and I found all the fencing we needed and tomorrow night and every night this week, will continue in our work to have defensible space around our home for fire season and putting up fencing to keep the critters out of the garden. He and Russell put a substantial dent in the 4 foot tall weeds in the front. We're going to get those finished this week and till the front under. I'll be ordering the rock I need at the end of this week and deciding once and for all on color.

I had been thinking about it, and if we go dark red lava rock only, that it will make it really hot out front. I'm going to go back to the nursery and rock places and see what I can get for what price. I may do some red lava rock, some pea gravel and some light brown rock. I want to make a dry river bed on the front for drainage, so I'm thinking I could do a combination of all those rocks at the edge and then put in the rocks we collected out of the yard for the bed itself. Of course, I'm going to have to dig in the french pipe I want under the eaves and have it feed to that.

I'm going to talk to people a little and plan accordingly. I guess I want to bounce my ideas off of people before I do it, but bottomline -- $1000 is a lot cheaper than digging a well for $4-6K.



There's a small wild fire burning about 3 miles north east of our house. I will not forget last year's 11,000 acres that burned all around us.

Genny's been an intolerable pain in the butt all day -- kind of like she is when she's got an ear infection.

I've been >THIS< close to wringing her neck a few times.

So we head up to town to pick up a few things and she pukes three times over a 40 foot area of parking lot at Home Depot.

I happened to have a change of clothes in the car for her of stuff she's mostly grown out of, so we hid her behind my sarong and the front car door and Mike's butt, and changed her barfy clothes. Then Mike takes her to the bathroom, so the two of them can get cleaned up in the restroom. (I'd already gotten into the store when Russell came running breathlessly down an aisle yelling for me.)

I buy a bucket and the box of stuff I had planned to buy and we head home. Daddy sat in the back with her. If you have been keeping up here, you know that 1) I don't do barf and 2) I've been barfing all week and the meds I'm taking make me somewhat barfy to begin with, and 3) I get car sick easily. Mike of Iron Stomach fame sat in the back with my pitcher from the hospital, which we had kept in the car for just such an occasion for me earlier in the week.

I was sad that Genny indeed needed it on the way home. We didn't think we could actually make the 5 gallon bucket from Home Depot fit or work for her, but were pretty sure the hospital pitcher would work well. The pediatrician said that if she doesn't stop puking tonight, to take her to the emergency room.

I think when I was about 8, I puked into my Dad's hands in an elevator on Father's Day in Hawaii on a family vacation. I've never lived that down. I hope we don't have one of those kinds of father's days for Mike.

Yeah, yeah, circle of life.

I've been taking percocet all day because everything got swollen and hurt like blue blazes.

I got a lot of laundry done, but then I made a list for the boy and told him to get to work. He's sat on his butt since school got out and hasn't done squat. I made him a list and told him he needed to help. I also offered to give him a little extra money. I said that I didn't think it was fair when I was sick that Dad was getting ditched with everything, especially after working all day. He agreed.

His sister and I had a meeting of the minds. She told me she didn't want to wipe down the table. I asked,"Do you think I like washing your dirty underwear?" She stared at me stunned and said,"No." I said, "You're right, but when you're part of a family you do stuff you don't like because you love your family. We're supposed to help each other." She wiped everything clean pretty happily after that and offered to set table.

She and her brother did dishes together with minimal fighting. Mike rather enjoyed his supervisory role.

I'm hoping I can get them in the habit. It may take some mean mommy work in the interim, but I'm willing. I want my kids to understand that working together is a good thing and that helping each other is a good thing. Russell has that, but I think we've babied Genny so long that we haven't pushed that with her and that's a bad thing. I think we need to teach her how to be a functioning part of the family and not just the "baby."

When I had Russell, I was a single mom and I needed his partnership in the things I did or I was sunk. We've been working as a team longer than anyone else in our family. Our relationship as a team was what we taught Mike. Now, we all three need to teach Genny.

I want her to have that because it makes us all so connected and I think that connection will stay with her forever. My brother and I have that kind of relationship, too. When I am at my mom's house, I realize that I still have that relationship there, too. At my mom's house, though she was the evil bitch and no one did it to do anything but avoid her wrath. At our house, we do it because we get sick of the mess collectively and we like the house clean and nice to live in.

Maybe, I've just had too much percocet, but I figure, if I can get that sense of community across and how we all contribute, that I'll have done a lot to make Genny a good person.

So much for feeling better. I had the misfortune to sleep with too much weight upon my eustaschian tube on the right side and am here at 4AM wishing that there was lots more percocet. I was having this dream about being shot at and having to jump from high distances into a pool, in my brain's attempt to work with the agony.

I finally had the good sense to wake up and take a percocet which frankly made the gun shot rally deeper and deeper into my skull -- while conscious.

A brief yoga move and some restoration, but I'm tired enough to where doing yoga at this fucking hour of the night is NOT an appetizing thought. I did pray while I did it asking God to flow through my body and take with Him the pain of my ears, but sweet yes-you-me it hurts. It makes me want to wake up the household and make them wait on me hand and foot. It makes me whimper for the days of yore when I had a freakin' rice sock and actually knew where the danged fool thing was.

Although, let's be truthful here, this hurts worse.

Maybe I should have been brave enough to take the liquid percocet because it kicks in harder and faster, but then, of course, I'd have had to take the cancer-patient-quick-dissolve-in-your-mouth-anti-yack meds. It's far too complicated to be in pain. Far too complicated.

Of course, then I might have missed presenting you with the image of a nimble 300 lb. woman jolting out of bed and sprinting to the bathroom at Olympian speeds to merely pass gas upon the porcelain goddess for fear of soiling her bed linens.

I'm going to watch HGTV.com. Nothing puts me to sleep faster than tile.