Yoga is the bomb.

Russell and I tried out yoga today.

Russell, the inflexible boy, was shown by the yoga teacher a position, she claimed it had taken her 26 years to be able to do, smiled and pulled his legs up in the lotus position. I hardly think that's fair at all.

I actually had an hour with reduced chest pain, but it hurts like hell again and while I tried to assume the assisted fish pose, it was to no avail. I was all propped up on pillows and it helped for a bit and I felt much more relaxed and everything, just that the bronchitis is really embedded and I'm not so sure that the antibiotics are helping tons. If I don't start experiencing improvement, I'm going to take the prednisone, take the insulin and just suck it up.

I'm hoping that riding in the car most of tomorrow will give me an opportunity to rest and relax. I busted my hump today doing laundry and running errands. However, clothes are washed, bags are packed, and the house looks like a laundry bomb went off in the livingroom, but thankfully, it's all clean!

Easter was soo cool. I was just happy to go to church. I was also happy to watch the kids find eggs.

However, I was sad about Russell's loss of childhood. He asked me point blank this week, if there's really a Tooth Fairy. I told him the truth and told him some of the things we'd done when we messed up. He was laughing hysterically in disbelief at how clownish we are -- forgetting and then one of us distracting him while the other stuck a dollar under his pillow one morning, for example. I also told him if he spilled the beans on his sister that he wouldn't get any more tooth fairy money. Period. He seemed to take that to heart.

He asked, "So you've kept my teeth all this time?"
I said,"Yes, of course!"
"Are you going to give me money for my wisdom teeth?"
I said rather superiorly,"I'll send you money for those, when you're older, if you send me your teeth."
He giggled.

Then came the inevitable question about the Easter Bunny. He seemed disheartened about that. He then asked about Santa Claus, but no one has answered him yet. Genny came in the room and interrupted, so it just didn't happen and he let it lay. We've already had a conversation about being Santa Claus for other people and how that's an important part of Christmas. He gets that really well. I'm going to tell him that as long as he believes in Santa Claus, he'll get a gift from Santa, in order to keep it going for Genny. Mike said this year that he thought the Bear might just be going along with the whole Santa thing because he figured he was getting more gifts, so I don't think it's a big surprise.

I just felt sad to have it all fall apart at the same time for him. However, I also think it lets him in on a grown up secret, with Genny still around and he will enjoy that, given time. He also is very clear about how loved he is because we have gone through such tremendous charades for him for such a long time, which is also cool.

I guess I'm projecting how I felt -- I was devastated at 5 years old to my mother's chagrin to find out that there's no Santa from my two evil and older cousins. Harold's dead from a motorcycle wreck, so I don't feel like I can stay mad at him after decorating his grave next to my grandfather's, but I would still rather chew glass than see Sharon again.

---

The shelves of several weeks ago are FINALLY up. It's a freakin' miracle. Now, I'm sure it'll be several weeks before we actually get the lamps on them in the right places and the plug set up, but I dunno. Mike also installed the light in the kitchen for me. It's beautiful. It's lovely. It's FINALLY installed!

I took the kids shopping today at Walmart. I wondered what the hell I was thinking afterwards, but I did manage to buy snacks and juices for our little trip to San Francisco coming up on Wednesday. (Psst -- that means I won't be posting.) I came home and flung the Genny Bug into bed and then crawled there myself. I've got bronchitis and it just sucks ass.

I've got so much laundry and so little time.

Boy, everything hurt today from working out yesterday, and on top of it all, I've started snoring while wearing my mask, according to Mike. Or he said,"It could just be a strange sucking sound from your mask fitting funny or something." Being that I have a good seal on my mask, I would like to take this opportunity to SCREAM in frustration, but I'm too damned tired.

I guess it's not a bad thing that my butt and thighs hurt -- it just meant I wasn't up to the same workout today, so I just did 12 minutes and stretched for 20, and my muscles feel better. With the lack of good sleep, however, my recovery was less than ideal anyhow. Today, I tried the bikes, but it just wasn't working for me and I finally gave up and went back to the ass-kicking of the elliptical trainer. I ran Bear to school, informed teachers of his therapy schedule, and then came home and went back to bed. For. Three. Hours.

Panicked, I called and apologized to LaDawn for not being there sooner, but Genny was already asleep, so she said to just come at 4PM. Thankfully, I paid her a lot this week, so she wasn't mad. Somewhere in this, I just realized that I had an oatmeal cookie for lunch. Geez!

Tomorrow, if I'm not hurting too awfully, I'll go walk around the hill a little.

In my head, I'm supposed to have done all this stuff and I'm tired enough to where it didn't get done, so I'm guilty and cranky with myself. The kitchen looks horrid. The bedroom looks like a nuclear wasteland, but on the bright side, the livingroom is picked up.

Miracles *can* happen. :)

Russell started physical therapy yesterday. It happens to occur at a place that has a gym. I can visit said gym. This morning, I spent 20 whole minutes, cursing my big fat ass on an elliptical trainer.

Now, I'm only cursing my thighs. And my shoulders. And my ankles. A little.

My husband, however, made me mp3's on my pda, which I listened to, while cursing my big fat ass, and humming along.

Red Hot Chili Peppers makes some good workout music, I tell you wot.

Tomorrow is another day of that. Then I may even get motivated to walk up the hill. Pigs also might fly out of my butt, but I can dream, right?

I have two months of Russell's therapy, which gives me two months to feel comfortable hiking my big fat butt over the hillside with less than embarrassing effort.

Oh, today, I've been calling all over God's creation for Mell, getting in Public Service Announcements for the play and asking to see if I can con any of them into running a promotion for us, so we can get more chairs filled at the Community Center.

I can DREAM, can't I?

Wait, the apnea is better. I CAN dream.

Thanks.

One vicodan later, my agony is gone and is replaced with sore spots -- a much better place!

Genny's got a bad cold. I kind of heard it brewing last night, told Mike to crank up the vaporizer and today, she sounds like she's coughing up a raptor. I fully expect feathers to come out of her mouth -- she's thick with it. I'm getting her at noon, already told her I'd throw her in bed, so she could recover, and I feel really really guilty, because I'd have liked to keep her home, but I know she loves school, even when she's sick and I really need to get about an hour longer of make-up sleep.

Basically, this means I have three hours to make some sense of the jumble that is my house and try to fix the shelves, though my shoulders are still achy, so I'm considering blowing that off. I should do floors. I should also be a beautiful princess with handsome masseuses massaging me at whim.

Shoulda. Woulda. Coulda.

All the stress of Russell's botox and Mike's tooth took it's toll.

I haven't slept well the past couple nights and yesterday, I woke out of bed with a gigantic back crick that makes me want to own a hot tub like NOW. My shoulders were so bad yesterday that I begged Mike NOT to rub them. I slept on a balled up pair of socks last night to try to slide the worry rib back, but that didn't help tons.

Russell is walking around differently -- his heels are already showing signs of relaxing. Mike's tooth?

Yeah...it's gross. So be warned.

Saturday night, Mike's gum had a gigantic zit. We were instructed after a call to the dentist to drain said zit and I ran to town to get antibiotics and vicodan. I sent Mike into the bathroom with one of my diabetic finger poker needles because it's sharper than heck and sterile. He came into the room looking all sheepish and asked if I'd do it because it hurts so much that he couldn't bring himself to do it. I laid across him, made him promise not to smack me involuntarily, and got that sucker. Weirdly enough, he didn't feel it at all!

Yuck! I told him that pays him back for childbirth. Yesterday, he had the root canal with medicine dropped in and he goes back in a few weeks to fix it all.

My back is a bit better tonight, but 800 mg of ibuprofen is barely making a dent, so I'm thinking seriously about begging Mike for a vicodan to sleep with, just to get the pain to subside while I'm sleeping, so the swelling can go down in my neck, shoulders, and back.

Well, I have a draft of a post that was actually kind of nice and then blogger won't give it back to me and it's late, so maybe some day, I'll actually get around to editing it and putting it here. It involves the shelves I spent the week working on and braining my husband with a fry pan after he screwed up said shelves by doing something stupid involving a jig saw.

Russ's thing is tomorrow and it just has me up worrying. I worry that I'm just not going to be able to keep at all the stuff I should be to keep on top of his appointments. As it is, I'm already booked like hell because I have stuff I told Mel I'd do for her, plus appointments for Leann, Genny, and Mike.

Mike's got to have a root canal on Wednesday, which essentially puts our savings to work -- $1100 gone! Kiss and wave bye-bye! Buh-bye! We'll get most of it back in our flexible spending account(FSA), but that means there's nothing left in there, which is kind of scary. We'd hoped it would scoot us through the year. To have used it up by Mid-April is kind of scary. It also means that we better get back the rest of the money we're paying out for daycare come Christmas and that we can't run anything up right now until things improve. It also means that we can feel pretty comfortable about increasing the limit in the FSA come next year.

I'm yawning, so I'm officially tired. I have to get up in 4.5 hours, so off to bed I go.

I did laundry, floors, and stained shelf boards today. I also took a half hour nap and things hurt in new places, but the house looks less "ohmigoshcallthehealthdepartment" and more "Wow, what a nice house."

And that's after Genny and Lulu terrorized the house and thoroughly went through Genny's drawers looking for stuff to wear around to play "baby." Just. Don't. Ask.

We also have a $300 septic problem. I paid $54 to have things snaked and have the toilet fixed. The guy was fabulously nice and I gave him a jar of jam because he didn't charge us nearly what we got charged last time by the thief, I mean plumber who was here last.

It's really weird though how when I'm having a good day how I still feel the exhaustion in my body. It's like a hangover of sorts. Being patient sucks eggs.

--

The bummer of the day was that I called Leann and she was having problems. Then, I went and saw her. Her room was a mess -- no one had cleaned up for her. She didn't have enough space to put her stuff on a bedside table -- they'd given her a small stool which wasn't nearly big enough to hold a phone, her meds, water, food, etc. And worst, she was alone and sad and scared. I laid on the bed next to her and rubbed her back while she cried. I told her I was sorry she was suffering and then got to work. I felt bad that I couldn't stay longer, but I picked up her room, brought her one of the kid's tables from the livingroom to put her stuff on, brought her fresh water, and cut her fresh fruit to eat.

Then I went home and made her potato leek soup and called the relief society person from her church and told the gal that we needed to set something up where someone visited her around lunch time to make sure that she ate and had company during the week. When I visited with the soup, that person was there, and she had grabbed laundry to do some at her house and had told the teenage son to run the vacuum. I got Leann to eat a half cup of soup, which was more solid food than she'd had since she'd been home from what I could gather. I gave instructions to the teenager that he was to make her a half cup in a couple hours and bring it into her and have her eat.

Leann has a bladder infection and she's not improving with the antibiotics and in fact, has gotten worse. We called the doctor's office repeatedly with little luck. I am very worried about her. I'm calling her tomorrow to find out what's going on. I'm afraid that they'll readmit her to the hospital!

If you're a praying person, say one for her or think good thoughts in her general direction. She's someone who really needs them.

By talking about this, I realize I may be jinxing it, but I've had two (count 'em) good days (nights) in a row. I didn't actually get to making dinner tonight -- I got home too late from taking Genny to dance, dropping Lulu and Tibby off, and then had to stop at the store and it just took too long to get dinner on in a reasonable amount of time after getting home at 645. So I had the fixings all ready for lasagna and am pulling the second pan out now. We had tacos at the little deli place here in town. They were definitely white people tacos, but at least they had hot sauce and specifically, I didn't have to cook 'em.

I can actually visualize myself staining boards tomorrow or making garlic bread and salad for dinner or even chicken enchiladas. I even bought papayas, mangoes, peppers, and cilantro for fruit salsa to go with the enchiladas. A week ago, that was nearly unfathomable that I'd actually have shopped ahead and planned meals -- even vaguely. I did stretch last night, take vitamins, and no, I didn't get to walking today because I was busy catching up.

I ran Bear to school, talked to his teachers about how he's doing, his grades, his future, etc. I dropped his application at the Montessori school. I got calls made. I got Genny to dance (heck, I forgot that a couple weeks ago) and talked to Mel briefly. I also made a friend at the dance group, though several of the mom's are very clique-ish and hide in the "other room." We visit and talk about canning, cooking, and kids. It's fun. The new friend and I also have talked about going together to pick fruit in California together. She makes baked goods and I can, so I figure we can have fun.

The house isn't cleaner. But I'm stuck here between 12 and 3 tomorrow waiting on a delivery, so that sounds like 3 hours of cleaning to me. We'll see how tonight goes.

I have to stretch, take my vitamins, and pray.

So Leann came home from the hospital today. I happened to be visiting her and they said they could discharge her, so I offered and then drove her home. She cried. She said she didn't know if she was ready for home. Tomorrow, I go to visit her and see what she needs, if anything. I wish I knew someone at her church to coordinate efforts better.

--

Today was a good day. It felt like 50% most of the day, but much better than the -50% I felt yesterday. And then tonight, I got my groove back and Mike and I cleaned the health disaster scuzz-pit, also known as the kitchen. I had nearly forgotten that my countertops are white. My floor remains a shade of gray with spots, but will await my efforts tomorrow. I've also got to get shelves stained for the bedroom and let them dry. It's gonna be gorgeous through the weekend, so I have to hit it while the weather holds.

--

The pulmonologist says that while I have Restless Leg Syndrome that it doesn't wake me up more than usual and that it should not be a concern for me. I told him that I still feel like crapola and that I didn't think that was a good thing.

He agreed and told me to take vitamin E, stretch before bed, take warm baths before bed, and exercise soon after getting up, even if that's 10 or 11 AM and even if I feel like warmed over dog poo. He also wrote me a script for clonipin to try. He also said that I needed to make up sleep debt and that was going to take time. He compared it to money debt and said that unless I win the lottery, I'm going to have to make small payments like everyone else.

*sigh*

He said that losing weight is the best thing I can do to get better. So I'm going to start small walking tours just to the end of our very long block. It's about a 20 minute walk. It ain't much, but it's a start.

He's going to see me in a month and see if there's improvement. If not, we'll pursue other things. He said it's possible I have some kind of narcolepsy or other sleep disorder. I don't have any symptoms of narcolepsy, so I doubt it, and I just think that I am going to have to suck it up and work on being patient, which is not a skill I have in my repertoire, even when I'm well-rested. I'm sick of being sick and that's all there is to it.

I told him I didn't want to die. He said that my apnea wasn't bad enough for dying and that he'd only ever had one patient die from it and there were a lot of complicating issues. I guess I don't want to develop those issues because the treatment hasn't been working, you know?

Oh, and he said not to worry. When I told Mike, he snorted.

Well, Bear is going to get botox injections in his legs to see if we can't get him to walk heel-to-toe instead of on his toes from the "spastic dysplagia" aka cerebral palsy. It's five injections in his legs and two months of physical therapy. I basically told the school that they'll have to work with us while we get him through this. I said it nicely, but I think the kid being physically capable of staying on his own two feet is more important than academics. It's a matter of safety when you consider that we had to teach him to put his hands out when he falls and he still sometimes forgets and goes down hard. Any more stability that we can give the kid is very important.

--

I saw my doctor today, too. We talked about all the health crap that's going on and I asked for her help in keeping track of all of it. She agreed and wants to see me once a month until my health issues settle down a bit. I was mad as hell that none of the specialists' office had sent records to my regular doctor and I asked at EVERY one of them. Fuckerheads. (Damn, I love that word!)

I explained to the doctor because I am so sleep deprived and so mentally horked (yes, I made that up), that I need help keeping track of all the crap that is going on and what is being checked and not checked and whether I need help above and beyond. I'm writing down everything and sometimes, I still forget.

I can only liken it to a nightmare that I am in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's -- I know I'm forgetting, but I'm not sure what I'm forgetting or how often I'm doing it, and I keep thinking it's something life or death that I'm forgetting. And then I wake up.

__

Tomorrow, I see the pulmonologist to talk about my restless legs syndrome and see if there's much to be done for it. I also have to ask why would there be such a huge difference between the settings on my machine in July and my numbers today when there's only a 10 lb weight difference. What does that mean? Should we have a follow-up study in the next three months? Should I go to UC Davis Med Center or Stanford and see what they know?

I'm overwhelmed and not surprisingly, I'm tired.

And today, I found out that caffeine can raise your sugars and make you depressed. My sugars usually run low and I'm so tired I'm bound to be depressed. But, what I thought immediately: "Is nothing sacred?"

Yesterday, actually turned out to be a bad sleep day. I often don't know until I get going just how good or bad it is. It always seems like the first couple hours go okay and then WHAMMO! I've crawled into bed and conked out cold.

I don't remember much of yesterday. Mostly, that I got to rest for a couple hours and that Mike was hounding me to get up and out, which I simply wasn't able to do.

Last night, we finally went to town and had pizza. We stopped and got some shelving boards and then crossed the street to go to Krispy Kremes, so that Mike could try the WiFi on the PDA. I do not understand why someone would be driven to use their WiFi at Krispy Kremes, but the other thing we found on the way home is just how many people have wireless LANS as we drove by their houses. Mike was all gleeful about how one could just drive around and mooch off someone's wireless to get a net connection. He's such a computer slut.

This morning was better. I got up and made breakfast. I did laundry. The whole family went outside in the gorgeous weather and collected rocks from various places on our acre and we started a stone wall out front. Eventually, I'm going to make small terraced beds with cement and gravel underneath the stonewalls, so we can manage the erosion on our hill. I'm sure we'll have to buy some rock, but I'm going to start by snagging rocks on the side of the road. We're going to put in some pathways with red decorative rock, too, like what we have on the side of the garage.

Everything is sore on my body and I got a sunburn. I also think I might have found a stain I can use in the kitchen that will go with what we already have for trim in the house. We have some of the boards outside because it's supposed to be sunny and gorgeous for the next week, so I'm going to sand and stain the boards as I feel good and go on my merry way to getting stuff organized.

Okay, and today, I bought onion and potato sets. I also bought clippers and trimmed out the front flower beds a bit. If I'm doing okay tomorrow, I'm going to rake out the dead poppies.

Someone was buying seeds at the hardware store, while I was buying stains and brushes. Apparently, no one has warned him about the April 15th and May 15th snows yet. Hope he plans to grow them inside.

Mike and I discussed yard planning. I'm jonesing for an apricot tree. Then I went hunting around and now, I want all manner of fruit trees -- apple, cherry, pear.

I wonder how many fruit trees our well can support?

Also, I've had two days of not perfect sleep (I keep leaving my big fat mouth open), but much improved sleep. I'm having dreams. I tell everyone that the surest sign that I'm feeling good is that laundry is getting done. As lousy as I've felt, it's a miracle that my kids aren't running around naked, though we are running dangerously low on towels at the moment. I need to have a convo with the dryer.

Apparently, however, going to the garage may be a dangerous thing because there's a bird trapped in there. I shudder to think what the bird has shat upon. *sigh* We asked Russell to open the door, but he got scared. We reminded him that he could use the remote in the car and hopefully, the poor bird is out.

One of the chickens passed away. I think we have to do a serious demiting of them either tonight or tomorrow night. The best thing is to just go in while they're roosting and dust them. The problem is that with 50 birds, that's a whole lot of dusting. It also means you have to toss all the eggs from it. I'm sure that commercial places don't, but we're not commercial and I don't want to eat that stuff. I can't recall what it's name is, but it's the highly toxic stuff they make from chrysanthemums that the natural food places claims is *organic." It's a serious toxin.

No heart condition! WHEEEEEEE! Thus, the reason for the following.

Last night, I made the best damned bad thing for Sarah's birthday cake ever. I made her a Mocha Toasted Pecan Torte. The recipe I used called for semi sweet chocolate and honestly, that was a little bitter with the coffee stuff in it. I think it'd be better with milk chocolate or those swirled white and milk chocolate chips. I've reproduced the recipe below with my own comments and suggested substitutions.

Mocha Pecan Torte

1 1/3 c. of chocolate chips
1 cup of butter

melt these together til smooth on low.

6 eggs
1 c. of sugar/splenda
1.5 c. of pecans that have been toasted in the oven. (Just stick them on a cookie sheet until they make your kitchen start to smell yummy -- you actually should put an extra cup on for the prettying up later)

Blend these in a blender or food processor for a minute or two untile they're fully combined, i.e., until the nuts are chopped.

Take your chocolate mixture above, AND 1/4 c. of expresso or kahlua, one cup of sifted cocoa and mix everything together. Put a piece of parchment paper in the bottom of a spring form pan and grease and flour it. Pour the mixture on top.

Bake at 350 for 30-40 minutes. (Depends on your elevation) They said to do it until the edges were two inches taller than the sides, but it didn't work for me, but I also live at 5100 feet. *shrug* I just did it till the edges started to crackle.

Then you make the glaze.

Mocha Glaze: In a medium heavy saucepan heat 3 tablespoons butter and 1 tablespoon light-colored corn syrup over low heat, stirring occasionally until butter melts. Add one cup chocolate pieces; stir till melted and smooth. Remove from heat. Add 3 tablespoons butter and 2 tablespoons coffee liqueur or strong coffee; whisk until smooth. Again on the chocolate, they call for semi sweet, but it makes for a really bitter thing -- don't do it unless you're into dark chocolate. While it's still warm, get it frosted onto your cooled torte.

The final thing is that you take a chunk of baker's white chocolate and put it in a baggy and melt it in the microwave. I used the defrost mode for about 2 minutes, which melts it without hurting the bag. You snip a corner off and then squeeze white chocolate in a big circle in the middle. Then you do concentric circles coming off the center. Then take a toothpick and pull the white chocolate -- it'll look like a spiderweb and very FANCY.

Then you're supposed to take another cup of roasted pecans and chop them up and put them on the sides. What I did instead was just to press pecans on the sides because it was prettier.

I personally think that if I had this recipe to do again, I'd replace the coffee flavor with frangelico and replace the pecans w/hazelnuts, and I'd use milk and/or white chocolates. For something fancy, I might see if I can find Godiva cocoa, too.

This stuff is so rich, it'd make Howard Hughes look poor, baby, so not for the low-cholesterol diet, though perfectly fabulous as a flour-free recipe, though I tell myself because I'm using brown homegrown eggs, it's okay.

It's really good with a scoop of coffee ice cream, but probably better with a glass of skim milk. ;) I'd really like to try it with splenda to have the reduced sugar version. I happen to think it would also be nice with a small snifter of port or a glass of nice fruity red zinfandel. That would also help clear your arteries afterwards!

Martha Stewart may be back, but I'm still wiping the floor with that witch.

I had a second sleep study last night and I should know more later today, but in the interim, I'm so viciously depressed.

I feel so worthless because I'm so wiped out all the time. I forget to do things -- yesterday, I went to the store to buy the fixings for meatballs to include meat, parsley, bread crumbs, and cheese, and I remembered the parsley. I had to send Mike to get the stuff I forgot. But this is how it is all the time.

With all this lack of sleep, my emotional boundaries are gone. I feel positively senile and rambling and retarded. I couldn't believe I couldn't find the car the other night, when I went out with Sarah and Mel. They laughed, but I was trying not to bawl uncontrollably.

I don't work not because I don't want to but because I really can't hold a job right now. I want to fix my incompletes, but I don't think I could begin to handle what I'd have to do to deal with it. I'm so embarrased and horrified at my body and my lack of brains and my complete inability to function day-to-day.

My legs hurt all the time because anything I do physically basically means I get no recovery from sleep. In the sleep study, I had a hard time sleeping because they were spasming because I haven't had a decent night's sleep in several weeks now.

I'm terrified to drive anywhere because I keep remembering the statistic that people with sleep apnea are 11 times more likely to have a car wreck. I'm terrified to put my kids in the car with me. If I go shopping, I usually have to make several trips because I forget everything and I'm too confused to write a list down because I can't remember what I need until I've walked past it three times.

The house is a mess; I haven't been able to do laundry because it's more than I can tolerate to try to pull heavy wet stuff out of the washer to put it in the dryer. It sounds so stupid and lazy to say that, but it's what's going on. I have to gather strength to do laundry because my muscles are sore and tired all the time and it seems so very far away to walk out to the garage to do it, which sounds insane, but it's where I'm at.

I can't even take care of my own daughter right now and I'm so embarrassed. Half the time, I drop her in front of cartoons and try to sleep. I wanted to be the one to teach her how to read and do math. And I want to read to her, but I can barely handle reading for some reason right now and I don't know why. I know my concentration is completely gone. And it seems weird because every so often I'll say the right thing, and then it feels like a random event that I have no control over -- like it didn't happen because of anything smart or self-possessed I might have thought.

I want desperately to be able to offer Russell the option to homeschool him and I'm so messed up I can't.

And then I worry about everything -- like weirdly and possessedly. I worry at night and I break into tears for no apparent reason like today. The worst thing is that I have been worrying about dying. First, I was worried Mike would wake up to a corpse and then I worry about the children and what would happen. Then I worry about driving, and then I was so sad because I haven't thought of killing myself in a long time, but I feel so worthless right now that occasionally, it seems like a really good idea. Yesterday, I was worrying about Mel because she drinks like the bottle has not bottom and my alcoholic grandmother used to do that and it just upset me incoherently and it shouldn't have, but it did.

Last night, the sleep study said that the pressure was way too high, so they fixed it for me. They also say my restless leg syndrome, which is something that can also cause lots of awakenings has gotten worse, not better. I see the doctor next week.

The scariest thing was the note from the tech on the forms -- she worries that I have arythmia. Cardiac disease is the thing that all diabetics dread -- myself included.

The really cool thing though, is that now, I might actually get some sleep, and tomorrow is another day.

I saw Leann today. Except for that whole serious abdominal surgery, the tubing to various machines, and the morphine induced in-and-out blinky eyes, she looked pretty good. She let me get her ice and water, and we talked about things and laughed as much as she could tolerate.

I felt so sad because she misses her kids, but she said that she knows that if they come to see her they're going to want to hug her. I said, "Have them hug your knee like there's no tomorrow, until you can tolerate the real thing." She smiled and pouted,"But I want the *real* thing." If only, we'd have had a Coke commercial crew there to film, I tell ya, we'd be rich as sultans.

She was bummed I didn't bring Genny, but I was nervous about doing it without knowing what I was taking her into, so I had Genny draw her a picture that says, "Get well soon" and put some pretty flowers on it to bring tomorrow. I'm also packing tape, so we can put stuff up on her closet. Genny and I talked about that she can't hug Leann yet because she has a big owie on her tummy and has to heal, so she has to blow kisses. I also told her that Leann asked for her to draw some pictures for her, which she was very excited about and immediately headed to her art box and started rummaging about for crayons and paper.

Leann said last night that she was sensitive to smells, so I didn't want to bring flowers to her, yet. I brought her a cute stuffed bunny holding a baby bunny in its arms. She's got another week to go, though she was up walking around and stuff, according to the nurse. I guess the epidural was making her itchy, so I let the nurse know on my way out, so they could relieve the discomfort. Poor thing!

She chewed ice and gargled water the whole time I was there. Part of the problem is that she's on the top floor, and it was hotter than blue blazes up there, so she had to have a fan to keep cool, but I'm sure that was also contributing to the dryness thing. She confided in me that she occasionally chomped and swallowed some of the ice. We giggled a lot about that they won't let her eat or drink anything until she farts. I teased,"Well, you better let it rip, then!" She held her tummy and giggled. She said,"You know, Wendy, by the time I get through this, you're going to know more about me than you ever wanted to know." I said, "It's okay. Mike and I are earth signs and thus, have a very earthy sense of humor." She smiled.

Ooers, and she showed me her scar. Geesh, it looked like one of those emergency c-section scars -- like about from her sternum to just below her c-section scar. I said,"Well, you've lost enough weight to wear a bikini, but you're probably going to want to wear a one-piece to cover that for a year." She smiled,"After having kids, I'll be wearing that one-piece for several years."

I thought getting to the roof of the parking garage where the breeze was blowing and the temps were a relatively balmy 50 something degrees was a welcome vacation. I wished I could bottle up some of that nice wet nearly-spring air and bring it to her. I drove home with the windows cracked, just to smell the air. You can still feel winter, but spring seems so awfully close on a sunny late winter day.

__


I finally dropped off last night about 5AM -- I watched the moon set. My blessed beautiful doctor called me in some ambien today to get used to this whole stupid mask that doesn't work anyway thing. Basically, I'm going to try the new mask (hopefully it gets here tomorrow!), if that doesn't work, then I go to the new pressure with the old mask. If that doesn't work, I get another sleep study. The nurse teased me that I would be thrilled about that. I said, I'd just be thrilled to get a good night's sleep ANYWHERE.

I'm getting to be a sleep ho. A little shuteye here and there in the day -- sometimes just resting my eyes for 10 minutes is deliriously beautiful, a nap, coffee -- anything. I'm scared to drive because I'm so hideously wiped out. I avoid driving the kids anywhere unless I've slept. It's humiliating in some ways to seem like an adult and feel so inept.

My husband is a saint -- doing the best he can, but I'm scared that one of these days, I just won't wake up at all.

I'm having trouble sleeping -- mostly because I worry about not waking up well. I've woken up the past two mornings at 11AM feeling like a truck ran over me. This morning at 1130, I answered the door for the federal express lady in my flannel nighty. It's just not pretty.

I was kind of bummed because my new kitchen light got here and it had a black mark on it. The chilis are lined in gold and glazed on the unglazed terracotta and they send you a matching light switch cover, which I did install, thanksoverymuchforasking. Apparently, the gold paint without glaze looks black, so the artist thinks they might have oopsed with a paint brush. I was so sad to have to repackage it and put it back in the box. That light BELONGS in my kitchen.

___

There's a hoot owl right outside the window in the elm tree hooting to another one in the distance, which I can just hear. There's something like 3 owls around our neighborhood and if I wasn't wearing nuffin but a flannel nightgown, I'd go outside to listen to them call to each other by the light of the moon, but now, I'm actually getting sleepy, so the motivation is slipping away with consciousness.

Nighty, night.

Leann's surgery was yesterday and I worried about her all day.

I took Sarah shopping. Her birthday is coming, so it seemed appropriate. I conned her into letting me buy her a few things and those few things meant so much to her. It's cool to be able to do that for friends.

Leann called me this morning. She can't drink anything, so her voice was raspy. She sounded like she was in pain and on a lot of drugs.

They gave her a hysterectomy because of the ovarian cancer. She's got a colostomy bag -- to her dismay. They tried to remove the fluid from her lung area. They said she only gets 4 weeks to recover and then they start chemo. That infamous "they," huh?

I felt rather powerless, but said I'd be there to do anything she needed. She said she didn't really want guests today, so I said I'll visit tomorrow without Genny. Apparently, she's hooked up to a lot of machines, and I don't think I'd like Genny to see that and wig out.

I told her that we were all praying for her and had mentioned her in dinner prayer on Saturday night.

__

In other news, I've got bronchitis. Some people get a monkey on their back, but I get a gorilla who sits on my chest (and farts!). At least, I am not on prednisone! I'm counting my blessings for that!

I'm sleeping somewhat better. Not tons better, but better. I figure that's nice progress. I had a great day yesterday except for the feeling like crud thing. I could have had a massage every 2 hours, a facial, and a dip in a hot tub, I think I'd still have felt crappy. I just was tired and worn and needed my blankie.

Just shaddup. My son admitted to having a blankie, so I can, too.

I dropped Russell off at school and went in to talk to the teacher. I got his missing assignments and I broke down. The teachers were under the impression that I was riding his butt at home. I'm not, but he wants to please me, so he puts a lot of pressure on himself.

I trying to find ways to just give him air. Last night, when he was in bed and Charles called, I said yes, he could stay the night tonight. When I brought him home from school, I pulled him off grounding which was to end on Monday, so he could play gameboy games with Charles and Stevie at the overnight.

After I dropped the boy off at school, I went shopping with Leann. We went to toys r us and picked out a couple of gameboy games for her son's birthday. While I was there, I bought a bunch of clothes for the kids because they had SLIM jeans on SALE. They also had some really darned cute clothes from Valentine's Day -- a denim jumper and skirt for Genny.

After that, we went to Chili's and had lunch. The chips, white people salsa, and queso were good and filled me up, a long time before my 45 minute hamburger and salad got there. We had a great time talking and catching up.

After lunch, we went to a supermarket and browsed the birthday cake book. We found the much coveted Spiderman cake and I explained that we needed a birthday cake because it was an emergency to which the bakery agreed. She laughed. She said,"Whenever I need something, I should take you!"

I hope she does.

I dropped her off at the hospital to get her fluids drained from her abdomen. (Her husband met her there and drove her home to sleep afterwards.)

--

Mike got off work early because of the holiday weekend and we came home cleaned up quickly and he picked up Genny while I showered for the first time all day. Then I ran to the school and picked up Russell and Leann's two kids and granddaughter. Russ tried on his clothes (because TRU is right next to CEC, so if he didn't like them I could take them back) and then was rushed off to Charles' house.

We fed Gen and the three kids milk and cookies, let them watch TV, which is a treat for them, then took them to the infamous furry arms of Chuck E. Cheese, where they gorged on pizza, played video games, danced with Chucky (you know -- the doll?), ate birthday cake, and got tired.

The adults hung at the table and we all talked bravely about Leann's cancer, her upcoming chemotherapy, and less bravely about her prospects. We won't know anything until after the surgery on Monday. I offered any help they needed, especially during chemotherapy when I know she'll get tired and may not be up to watching kids and getting them through their homework.

She looked lousy -- gray and tired throughout.

I feel so inadequate. I hope I'm the friend she deserves.

The biggest bummer was that Leann called and her cancer is back. She's going in for some serious surgery on Monday. Tomorrow, she's got a procedure and I'm taking the kids for her. We're going to go shopping in the morning together for the youngest's birthday party tomorrow night. I'll drive all the kids to Chuck E. Cheese's and meet her there to give her some time in the afternoon to loll about and recover from what amounts to a very unpleasant amnio.

I'm just sad. If there's anyone around who's darned near a saint, it's Leann. I've been praying for her health, so my hope is that this surgery is the first step of only one or two to her recovery. With two kids under 10, I'm hoping that God doesn't have any other plans for her.
__

I talked to the pulmonologist's office today and they said I can use a full face mask for the apnea. I have one, but it leaks air a lot and it means I have to tighten it up so much to not leak that I wake up with a big red ring around my face that kind of lingers. They said they'd talk to the doctor and then call me about a new mask. I am just plain exhausted. Meals, laundry, errands, phone calls -- they call get made in REM sleep, I'm pretty sure because I feel like I'm in this extended dream.

I had all these big plans for making a quiche because I have about 4 dozen eggs in the garage that are a little too old to sell, but not too old to use. I even called my mom and got the oil pastry recipe from her to make a crust. I found a nut torte recipe that used something like 6 eggs, which I thought would be spifftacular. However, I didn't have fresh orange peel and couldn't bring myself to use the very old dried stuff on my spice rack. (Who the heck uses orange peel on a regular basis?) Tomorrow, I'll buy an orange or two for the peels to make a nut torte.

And then I just hit a wall, asked Russell to keep an eye on Genny for a half hour til Dad got home because I needed to lay down. And while I know it's stupid and it's not something I can help, I still feel like a bad mommy if I do that. It's like reliving the summer again of falling asleep in my chair at 2PM in front of the cartoon channel with the kids.

Thank goodness for the big crockpot full of beans and meat for tacos from last night. Leftovers are the last haven left to an exhausted mommy and her family, I tell you what.

Well, I went to the high school.

Wow, the issues I have with it, are nearly unending.
It's 7-12th grades, for example. They have times where the grades do mix. Walking through there, I could totally see Russell getting jostled and hitting the floor. Also, the schedule is crazy. It's not like college -- MWF or TTH classes, but a few classes here and there with no rhyme or reason involved. Bizarre at best.

(/sarcasm beging)
Hey, let's give a crazy schedule to a kid who already has organization problems. That's a good idea. (/sarcasm end) I can just see someone with a candid camera watching these kids the first month and seeing just how messed up they get.

The school suggested a half day schedule with me homeschooling otherwise. The problem is while that addresses the organization problems, it does nothing to address his developmental issues.

Thus, in frustration and desperation, I called my advisor at the university and she said that I should look into this one charter school. So I did. The principal is going to come out and observe Russell and see if they can "handle" him at their school. I said fine and let his teacher know. They also said they were willing to give him an accelerated math curriculum. When I mentioned that to Russell, he was all over going to this school -- whether or not he repeated 6th grade. He didn't care as long as he got the faster math instruction.

I still feel overwhelmed. I need to get my butt together and get my incompletes turned over into the A's I am capable of. *sigh*

At least, I got a pretty good night's sleep last night.

I know -- two posts in one day? What *is* the world coming to?

It really sucks and I haven't quite had words for all of it, thus, I've stewed and said little.

I'm sick again.

First, my apnea machine isn't working very well. I'm breathing against it, thus, rendering it ineffective and I'm back to feeling wiped out again. I've been like this for a month or two. Using a chin strap helps, but often ends up wadded up on the floor. Mind you, I don't do this consciously, I just find it on the floor in the morning and sigh. I don't know if this means I should just stick a clothespin on my nose and a mouth mask over my mouth, but the thought has obviously crossed my mind. I've woken up several times recently to hearing a horrible gurgling noise -- which is the sound things make when I'm breathing against the mask.

Second, my latest pap smear was deemed not precancerous, but abnormal. My impression from my doctor was that she didn't want to worry me, but that it means that the next pap may be abnormal again and require surgery similar to last year. My mom's historical account of her gynecological adventures in her 40's was disheartening at best. Her lack of tact sometimes is astounding in its depth.

Third, I am on hormones and while my husband is truly enjoying the libidinous side effects, I'm on them because the doctor thinks my cycle may be skewed. The hope is that if I take said hormones, my system will "reboot" for lack of a better word and my cycles will come back like they were because this every three freakin' weeks for my period truly sucks butt.

Fourth, wow am I depressed about my lack of health. While the doctors say that my diabetes is in good control -- my hba1c right after Christmas was 6.1 (normal is 4-6), and my metabolism is speeding right along due to the jumpstart of thyroid (I am on a 2400 calorie food plan), and I'm losing weight, I am truly depressed. I have to say that I am really feeling my mortality and it scares the shit out of me. If I wasn't so damned tired and oxygen deprived, I'd be exercising and losing lots more weight. If I don't lose weight, I get to keep the apnea. If I can't address the apnea, I'm tired. Catch 22. Catch 22.

Fifth, I am trying to iron out what I will do with Russell for next year. He's in a critical transition year -- going from 6th to 7th and he's barely getting through 6th. He said,"Oh, you can help me, Mom." To which I replied,"Russell, it's not my job to kick your butt through school." I'd like to go to grad school and stuff, but I think I'm going to have to homeschool him partially next year for him to survive it, which essentially puts my grad school on the back burner for a very long time. I'm going tomorrow to talk to the school about how we can help him and what we have to do. I'm torn between going fully special ed -- giving him allowances, option to retest, etc. -- and just holding him back because he's one of the youngest kids in his class and is so immature compared to many of his classmates and one more year to grow up in would serve him well, in my opinion.

Sixth, Genny is 4. She's likely going to be reading before Kindergarten which will mean she'll be bored as hell if I send her to the local kindergarten. It'll also mean that I have to duke it out with the school to get her the advanced academics she's capable of. Talk about opposite ends of the IEP. She's at LaDawn's getting homeschooled because her previous daycare wasn't working out for her. We tried her in Kindergarten and while she could totally handle the academics, she could not handle the social stuff. Wednesday night, we go to Parents' night at a local Montessori school.

I feel massively overwhelmed at the problems and underwhelmed at my capacity to handle them at the moment, although, I do seem to be able to handle the increased libido, and so does Mike.

Little steps.

Our family celebrated Valentine's Day on Saturday -- mostly because I knew my husband had spent a lot of money on something and I'm an impatient little weirdo. Goirls, the man gave me $300 pearl earrings! I gave him much coveted rechargable CB's. He charged them, played silly cb games in the livingroom, and was obviously thrilled to death. I gave the kids each little remembrances and chocolate-filled hearts. It took me a while to get past being stunned over receiving expensive jewelry.

I've never had anything given to me like those earrings. I told Mike that they made me feel like a princess and that I haven't felt like that since I had my prom. My mom made me a beautiful dress, my hair was done up beautifully, and I was wearing a single pearl necklace that my mother had passed down to me. Saturday night, I felt like that again and at 41 years of age, that was a pretty wow thing.

Happy Valentine's Day!

__

Yesterday, we had a nice breakfast and I guzzled coffee like a fiend. The guys did dishes, and then Mike and I sat in the kitchen playing Dungeons and Dragons in our chonies and jammies with Russell. Genny decided finally to come out and sit at a corner of the table and draw pictures with us, but I can safely say, I did little to clean the house, except to rotate laundry.

It was kind of interesting to see how Russell lacked strategy and perceived strategy. His character was all of three feet high and his idea was "rock 'em, sock 'em!" despite the fact that two of our party were not fighters -- his character included. I was very carefully trying to show him strategy -- my character was also not one of the fighters and I did little fighting, but I did do a great deal of reducing the strength of stuff we were fighting, blinding stuff we were fighting, talking to stuff we were fighting, etc., and surrounding and ambushing stuff we were fighting, in order to play, and he was furious that I wasn't trying to kick everything's butt.

I'm such a woman. And he's not. Mothers teach your babies!

Dearest Husband,

You were, of course, joking to expect me to use an 8 foot tangled up spiral phone cord to reach the 15 feet across the room, right?

Is there another phone cord of greater length in that magic cord box of yours or should you be sent shopping?

Laughing hesitantly,
Your Wife

I'm tired, so writing an in-depth blow-by-blow entry of my trip to La-la land is not gonna happen tonight.

Suffice it to say, I had fun, blew way too much money, and missed my husband and son more than anything.

I'll write more soon, but I have some catching up to do.

I leave tomorrow for close to a week to attend Pauline's second wedding. I think it's a huge mistake, because she calls me every few weeks bawling about how sad and depressed she is. Then she swears up and down, that she "loves" him.

It feels like abuse to me in my empathic heart. I haven't met the guy, so it may not be, but I'm going to go visit and get my own impression and see what I think.

What makes me sad is that she's trying desperately to impress me and I just would rather she was happy.

Genny's coming with me. I bought her a pretty dress for the wedding and I've got one coming in the mail for me, so even if things fall to shit, I'll be well-dressed!

Pauline's lining me up to blow big wads of cash on her, claiming, she'd "pay me back." Been there, done it, and *just* paid off the bills from it, so Mike and I decided to just give her a engagement card with $250 in it. That way, she can buy what she wants, without the lie about paying it back, and I won't be obligated to give up any more than that. Mike and Sarah have just told me to be strong and blame them.

Mike said I can claim he's gotten to be a real tightwad now that he's making the money and Sarah said I can tell Pauline I gave her money to help her out. What I'm going to tell her is that Mike had to help out his brother to buy a computer and that our extra money went there because that's not a lie. And it'll shut her up.

The problem is that I love both Pauline and her daughter, Angelina, but I'm also way more generous than I should be sometimes, and Pauline takes advantage of that. She plays that "oh, don't get anything for me" ploy and then I end up spending a bunch of money on Angelina AND her. I'm just not going for it this time. I figure I'll tell her that I split my money with her and she'll have to be careful. Before I arrive there, I'll buy some groceries, so I don't get hit up for that either, and I have the kind of food that I need.

It's been nice to actually have money.

We've been shopping, but we've also opened up a savings account.

I've already placed orders for the bathroom cabinets. I've got an order for a Pella storm door with Lowe's. While we looked for kitchen sinks, we haven't selected anything finally, just yet. Mike has to measure the over the stove fan -- unfortunately, it's a special size which means it has to be special ordered, and that'll cost.

I started pricing tile for the kitchen today, but I'm going to start cruising the tile store down the hill -- it has a really good "back room" with all kinds of nice stuff. I need to measure out the kitchen first and determine just how damned much tile I need. Then, I'll start planning for May.

I have decided that longaberger baskets are akin to the devil's work.

I went to one of those longaberger basket parties. It's one of those parties, that isn't really a party -- like tupperware, partylite, Mary Kay, etc., where you are lassoed into going because it's a friend or the friend of a friend and you sit through a 1-2 hour sales pitch that you nearly believe and then are offered cake and punch at the end. I was a good girl and didn't touch the cake or punch, but kept to the diet sodas and asked for cheese and crackers because I was hungry and my head was exploding and the thought of fucking up my sugars for over-priced baskets really pissed me off.

The whole pitch is that they are handmade, well-made, and made from wood and thus, built to last and built to be heirlooms that will incur value over time. A perusal of ebay demonstrates that the bulk of the "more value over time" stuff is a farce. Only baskets that are colored or very limited editions are more valuable over time. The one thing is that the baskets generally don't lose their value, however, so that's a good thing. And yes, they really are pretty, but there's just so much basketing a girl can be talked into.

Myself, I've gotten baskets I liked just fine at the dollar store, such as the baskets that the chickens use to lay their eggs in and the baskets that I organize my bills, office supplies, and various collected McDonald's Happy Meal toys that I like. I got a cool gold star basket from Michael's on sale a few years ago. I also found a neat newspaper basket in my travels and I bought a couple at Walmart.

However, with my kids, I have a hard time justifying the expense of $200 for a basket that will hold magazines for me in the bathroom. I also have a hard time justifying buying several expensive baskets at about $150/pop when I can get the same sizes cheaper as trunks for a third of the price.

I really like the baskets and I think they're pretty, but they're very expensive and they're more than I wanna spend. Also, I can't justify $25 for basket liner when I'm such a skilled seamstress and their fabric selections are hokier than hell. I'd buy a pattern for a liner, for example, so I could make my own, but damn. And the looks I got when I suggested such a blasphemous thing at this "party" were just amusing as hell. Also, the idea that you'd have to purchase special hanging decorations to put on the basket versus either making or buying them elsewhere, seemed well nigh on insane.

I think the high point of the "party" was when the woman was demonstrating a pie plate. She asked what we thought you could do with said pie plate, aside from the obvious of baking a pie in it. I quietly thought to myself, "you could shove it where the sun don't shine," but I failed to vocalize said thought. We suggested quiche, a centerpiece with candle, etc. Then she dropped the bomb -- "Why not write a note to your husband or children on it with a crayon?", she asked sweetly. Immediately, the answer came to me,"Because it costs $24 and my husband has broken every decent piece of china I've ever owned?"

However, I was good enough to just shut the fuck up and refrain from laughing hysterically in response.

The silence in the room after her little bomb told many tales, too.

Honestly, I'd rather buy tupperware. They have some really cool ovenware -- you can cook in it, freeze it, dishwasher it, and it'll still smoke your cigarette after sex for ya. That's what I'm talkin' about!

While tomorrow is money day and I've got lots of stuff I wanna buy, baskets aren't making the list, for some reason. I'm such a hard-assed witch. I tell ya. Instead, I'd like to buy a couple of rough-hewn pine wood tables for nightstands and stain them. I also am going to finish the dresser I've been painting in the garage. It's got the same brick red color of two of the bedroom walls and I've stencilled leaves and pine trees on it in metallic glittery copper, green, and gold art paints. It looks very cool. The final thing was rolling an mini oak-leaf roller across the dresser in a few places in copper paint. Truly awesome. Mike thought it was way cool. He said astounded,"Wow, I didn't know you were going to do that! That's awesome."

*preen*

Other than that, husband and I have discussed and agreed that we will buy a printer- fax-copier-scanner machine for the home office. We seem to really need that fax a lot and a copier beats having him do it at work. We're also paying off every credit card except the mastercard. We're putting up a storm door. The kitchen will get new stuff -- the sink, the fan over the stove, refinished cabinets, and so forth. I'm also buying a new dryer. The guy at the Sears store felt so bad that the Kenmore I bought just three short years ago that I have had to replace everything on, is yet again, not working properly, that he's giving me a 10% discount on the new Whirlpool machine.

We're going to start cleaning out the garage. We'll also be saving like mad each month, so that come summer, we can put up insulation and drywall in the garage and start working toward finishing the garage and converting it to living space. In the spring, we'll cash out some stock we bought through Mike's company and that will put new windows on the house.

Thus, I am not buying baskets. ;)

After all that shit, we signed on the refinance on Friday. We're not getting any moolah until Thursday.

However, God does work in mysterious ways. My father's mother sent my parents a bunch of money -- just cuz. And my folks sent my brother and I each $500 from that.

It will tide us over until things go through on Thursday.

I have elected to take a furniture refinishing class, so I can learn how to refinish my own cabinets and not have to pay so much to get it done.

__

In other unrelated news, last night, I got bit on the eyelid by a spider (I suspect due to the two fang marks), which, despite the benadryl, still managed to swell up both eyes and put a black ring around each, adding credence to the whole idea that my husband beats me (with his rhythm stick, baby).

I went to urgent care, spent money I wished I didn't have to spend to get antibiotics and antihistamines. Tonight, I just want to scratch my eye out because while last night it hurt like an ice pick in the eye, tonight, it itches in all new and horrible ways. I need to go to bed and take my drugs, already, but I'm waiting on laundry, so my husband doesn't have to go to work in a scuzzy t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

__

Today he was wearing a shirt with some 50's guy on it that said,"Pull my finger."

I need one that says,"Light a match, quick!"

I should be in bed, but the refinance has me fit to be tied. No, we have not yet signed the damned thing, much less have money in our pocket to pay bills.

I've been promised that we'll sign on pain of death tomorrow, but the bank, of course, had yet another forgotten and newly remembered piece of paper that they had to have us sign before they could draw up papers. Mind you, they forgot and then remembered. If they'd given us a list from the get-go, this would have been done before we left for Florida because, yes, I am that anal-retentive when it comes to finding all the bits and bobs of papers.

The latest bit or bob requires Mike's boss to sign it and both of the appropriate parties were unavailable to do so. We're fully expecting a snow day tomorrow as we hit the last fucking day of precipitation before the sun shines all damned week, so they may not be at work tomorrow, which means this could drag on a week longer. We should have signed on December 30th -- we would have had money by January 3. I'd have had contractors out here and licking my boots to get our bid by now. I had an outfit all picked out and everything!

Mike said they must be out of money.

All I know is that World Bank is out a customer. As soon as we can unload this refinanced mortgage and move on, we will. I'm going to dump every penny we have into finishing that stupid garage, changing out the sink, the fan above the table, refacing the cabinets in the kitchen and front bathroom, and any other thing that will bring us a few bucks at the next refi.

Fuckerheads.
__

Okay, thus endeth my sojourn to Scatology Land.

Now, on to fantasy land. (I might have spent to much time at Disney world.)

I have a fantasy to have one of those dryer closets. It's the holy grail of removing soapy liquid from all things and has a 7 cubic foot drum, plus racks for fine washables, sweaters, and stuff you wanna hang. Its damned door doesn't pop open every 15 minutes a dry cycle. It's made by Maytag, so it might actually dry a damp sock in the time it takes to wash three loads of clothing. Unlike my machine, which at this time, I have paid for twice. My machine might dry a half load of towels in 90 minutes. Can you say Piece of Crap? Thank you, I knew you could.

Mike wants a second more up-to-date computer to play on, however, and that is where the antlers of the Moose and Mrs. Moose tangle a tad. I could push hard for the dryer closet and get it, but then I'd feel bad because I could get something much more reasonable made by Maytag or Whirlpool that just wouldn't have the lingerie and sweater racks and hangers.

But damn, that dryer gives me the hots.

The idea of clean and dry clothes in a reasonable amount of time is enough to make any domestic goddess cream her jeans. It's taken me two days of personally tracking or bribing snow-bound child (home from school) to keep an eye on that current dryer load. And the damned thing still isn't dry.

A computer just can't dry clothes when there's three feet of snow on the ground. And we have a good computer, already.

Mike has this fantasy about that we'll play on the computers together. I don't think it has occurred to him that Russell's in school and will have no time. When Russell has time, Mike gears up at work, and about the time I'm interested will be when the entire house has been done the way we've discussed, much of which, he will be doing, thus giving him little time to play computer games at home.

I hate to be the reality check to a dreamy computer engineer, though, so for now, I'm enjoying his good behavior and bland begging.

__

I'm dumbfounded at the magnitude of the tsunami damage and toll on human life. As soon as the refi check comes in, we will be donating. Mike simply told me how much he'd like us to donate, though he looked at me and said,"You can't send the whole thing to Unicef, OK?"

The man knows me.

Sometimes, I am struck by what a brave, strong human being my son is becoming. I am often thinking how amazing he is. He had to write a reflection essay on a different kind of hero. I suggested he write one about his grandfather.

He wrote the following:

"Different Kinds of Heroes" by R. Schreiber

Most heroes fight crime, are famous, play sports, fight fires, help people get well when they’re sick, or fight in wars. My parents are different kinds of heroes.

My dad is my hero because he taught me how to do multiplication, division, powers and a little calculus after I learned addition and subtraction. He's made math a blast for me! He taught me how to read with Pokemon cards and play with me. He's has always supported me. He's taught me computer commands, which helps me with my Alphasmart and homework. He's been nice to me and taken care of me, even though he’s not my biological father. He wakes me up at 7AM every morning during the week, even though he doesn’t like to get up, to give me my medication. I love him and he loves me. He’s adopting me this spring.

My mom is my hero, too. My mom fought the school tooth and nail for my I.E.P. I'm happy about that because otherwise, I would be getting marked down for my handwriting because I have cerebral palsy. If I didn’t have my I.E.P., I probably wouldn’t even know what an Alphasmart is. I would also have to rewrite my assignments instead of typing them into the Alphasmart. She's shown me how to collect stamps and to take care of them; I have over two hundred stamps. She's helped me to learn how to write a story. She has helped me learn to cook things like macaroni and cheese and spaghetti. I am grateful for that because I probably wouldn't be able to cook or know how to make food. She has pushed me to become smart by doing things like telling me to read at night instead of watching television. She will help me with things I don't understand like grammar, spelling, and English. I'm grateful for that, too. She has given me skills. I love my mom because of the things she does. She loves me.

My parents aren’t Batman or Superman or firefighters or doctors, but they make a big difference to me. That makes them different kinds of heroes.

--

Bear-bear, you're my hero, too.