Friday, March 24, 2006
How long does a person have to feel like death warmed over, before they can go whine to the doctor even if they believe that they have is a virus and nothing can be done anyway? It has been since the 12th. My throat hurts. My head hurts. My ears hurt. My stomach hurts. I have little appetite and when I do eat I immediately regret it. The fever is gone, thank goodness. Shivering in one's sleep while covered in a doubled goosedown duvet is not fun, I don't care what people say. Okay, people don't say, but you know what I mean. I can think of nothing better than lying on the couch sipping tea and watching daytime tv, nothing more strenuous than that. Of course, we all know that is not going to happen. Mothers aren't allowed to get sick. We have breakfasts and lunches and dinners to make. Groceries to buy. Sleeping bags to find, and sleepovers to go to. There is laundry and floors and toilets that need scrubbed. Animals and children that need bathing. Bedtime stories to read. It doesn't help that I am going through some other issues as well. Marital issues. Bad bad, very bad things. Maybe it is some kind of cosmic theme. My life is falling apart at the same time as my mind and body. This is part of our patio. Disregard the foil-covered pot that blew over. I check that little maple tree daily for signs of budding, because I am freezing my tuchus off and want to believe that spring is really here. Other trees have been fooled into unfurling early, then damaged by frost. But not this little maple, no sir. It is always the last to leaf out, and the last to lose all it's leaves in the fall. It used to be over 6 feet tall and winding. Then one spring we had terrible ice storms, one after another. And the entire top of the tree died off. There were like two branches left living. We decided to remove the dead part and see what happened. There was a sudden explosion of branches, as it reached outwards. It had been trained into a thin winding thing, but all along it longed to spread out to hold the sun. You could say that the ice storms helped it find it's inner beauty, the form it was meant to have. Maybe, just maybe, the troubles I am having right now are like those ice storms, trying to prune me and goad me into branching out and finding my true potential. We love this tree so much, when we had the patio poured, we made them pour AROUND it. I joke about tapping it, and making like a tablespoon of maple syrup to put in a special coloured glass vial and wear around my neck. But that would just be weird.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
I try to avoid it, I do. I go to pet shops and deliberately stay away from the clothing section. Sure, I have been known to make my dog a halloween outfit or two, but for the most part I am a good dog mommy and don't subject her to such indignities. Then we went to PetsMart. And the easter stuff is out. And DD found "it". Yes, ladies and gents, I bought my dog a bunny hat. I don't know what came over me! I know it is wrong. And even worse, the minute we tried it on her we both collapsed on the floor in laughter, and poor Ruby kept coming right up into our faces to see what was wrong, and we would look into those buggy eyes under those bunny ears, and laugh even harder. Cruel, so cruel. Here she is staring intently at a - what is that, a carrot coloured treat? She isn't sure what we are laughing at and at this point wants to be part of the fun. Espeically if it means she gets treats. Here she is close up, starting to look a little suspicious now because we keep laughing. She likes to be PART of the fun, but sulks if she is laughed at. Poor thing. The autrocities I commit to her. But look at that FACE. Can you blame me? Now, as far as animal dressing goes, I am far from the worst. My sister not only has an entire tote of animal costumes, she knows what size her cat wears. Did you hear that? SHE KNOWS WHAT SIZE HER CAT WEARS! That is a sickness in a category all it's own. And even worse than THAT horror of horrors, her cat is a boy and she keeps buying him dresses. That, my friends, is a therapy bill waiting to happen. I have not yet tried to dress my cats. I can only imagine the blood shed that would go on if I even tried. Xena is suspicious and skittish enough as it is. Once she got her head caught in the handle of a plastic grocery bag and bounced off the walls for 20 minutes before I could catch and free her. Her heart was going a mile a minute. I don't think she would survive a dress. Or baby clothes. Jasmine on the other hand is not timid. We are talking bite-you-to-within-an-inch-of-your-life and kick-you-with-the-back-feet-and-kill-you-very-badly. Even if I could get a dress on her, I would never survive getting it off again. Sure, I bath her once a month but we have an arrangement about that. She doesn't like having a stinky butt, I don't like having to bath a cat, but we both look the other way and it gets done with no bloodshed. Ruby has now figured out that the general mirth around here is centered toward her, and is in full sulk mode. Have you ever seen a sulking pug? They pout with their lips, and flutter their eyes and look all sad and squishy. Impossible to resist, it is. Poor baby bunny. I might use this as my easter card. Not that I send easter cards. But if I did, this would be it. Wook at that widdle face! Poor woobie. Tee hee!
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
DD had her last swimming lesson for this section last night. She did not "pass". There are three things that she cannot yet do....back crawl, front crawl, and back float kick. Now, the back float kick she CAN do and does well, but for some reason when she has to do it at swimming lessons she kind of floats there like a dead crab. She back float kicked all over Florida, but last night she did the dead crab float. The front crawl? She doesn't want to keep her face in the water. She can do the arm circles and the kicks, but she doesn't want to keep her head down. She has been this way since she was a baby. Always wants to see what is going on, doesn't want to miss a thing. She would hold off falling asleep as long as she possibly could, just so she didn't miss one tiny event. Her back crawl is okay, but when she does her arm circles she splashes her face and it startles her and she stops and turns around. Then she can't figure out how to get started again. I think she is also afraid to bump her head at the other side of the pool, so keeps stopping and turning to see where she is. So we were faced with a dilemna. Do we put her in the same section again, and hope that the instructor is a little better (this is the first of five that we haven't really liked), the kids in her unit a little older and less distracting (one spends his entire 30 minutes trying to escape to jump into the deep end), that one more try might do it? Or do we say that the goal of making sure she doesn't drown if she falls in has been met and call it a day with the lessons? She CAN swim. She can keep her head above water, jump in from the side and come up and swim across to exit, and so on. But she has no technique swims, just mostly frantic dog paddle. We went to a water park and she had no problem being spit out the bottom of water slides, even into water deeper than she could stand in. She wants to continue lessons, she really wants to "finish the book". But I don't want to spend another hundred bucks on ten more weeks and have her still stopping and turning around, and bobbing like a cork twiddling her thumbs while the instructor chases another kid across the deep end. So, the next option? Private one on one lessons. Same place, same times, but she is the only student. They can work on exactly what she needs, and there are fewer distractions. More expensive, but who needs new shoes when there are private swimming lessons to be had ;)? I chased down Jasmine to get this picture. She really didn't WANT her picture taken. But we don't always get what we want, do we?
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Now that we are home, I can look back on our vacation and say "What were we thinking?!?!". We didn't over pack (just made it as far as laundry goes). All of our arrangements worked out fine or better. But really, the three of us are not made to travel together. My idea of a vacation is sipping umbrella drinks by the pool as a cabana boy waits on me hand and foot. DD's perfect getaway would involve lots of swimming and video games. And dh? Well he wants things planned every single minute. He won't dress up as my cabana boy, or consider giving me a foot massage a "planned event" either. But it's easy for him. I plan where we are going that day. I pack what we will need there and arrange maps for the route. I tell him each and every turn and exit, where to park, etc. While we are there I have to decide what we are doing when and in what order. What and when we will eat. When we will leave. Then of course, direct him back to where we started. He is pretty much along for that ride. And dd of course comes along, kicking and screaming. When we get back and I collapse in a chair, he doesn't understand why I look so tired. Good thing I don't have enough energy after one of these outings to lob something REALLY heavy at him. Three days of that in a row (add in the high heat, my not feeling well, DD's reluctance to leave the hotel pool, and long long lines) and I was done like a dinner. We are talking sobbing in bed type done. My feet were so sore I couldn't stand them. And my legs. MY LEGS! Don't get me started on my legs. I blew a calf muscle two days into the vacation and limped the rest of the time. Nice big juicy bruise too. When dh complained about my gimpiness I would point to my leg and say "talk to the contusion, mister". But, I will say this. Thanks to my spanking new cool-max socks, I did not get a SINGLE BLISTER. Normally my feet are hamburger on the first day. Sure they still hurt, but they were blisterless. Anybody want seven dollars worth of unopened blister bandages? My earth shoe sandals? Well, they are very comfie and have good arch support. Such good arch support that after the first bit I felt like I was standing on a roll of pennies. Ouch. Not so good! When you have sensitive feet it is not a good idea to get ergonomically correct shoes for long outings when your feet are used to dollar store tennies with soles thinner than paper and no support at all. Just so you know. Also, it is not a good idea to wear a pink tank top with a shelf bra if you are largely endowed and might get soaked on a water ride. Because the straps will stretch and show more cleavage than you want, and the colour will match your skin tone so well people will do double takes thinking you are topless then realize that they are just seeing TOO much cleavage in a wet pink tank top, and wet pink tank tops are see through for quite some time after getting wet. Did you get all that? Alhough I will admit that the shelf bra creates somewhat of an extra storage pocket for things like sunglasses and theme park maps and cans of pringles. Is that gentleman staring because he is enjoying the wet pink view, or is he coveting the pringles? We may never know. Another thing. Wet skin, sunscreen, and theme park maps combine to create a chemical reaction that will lift the printing off the paper and imbed it permanently into the flesh of your cleavage. For the rest of the trip, no amount of scrubbing with soap will remove all of it. I still have my own "Magic Kingdom" on my left breast. Perhaps I will consider it a cheap tattoo souvineer and leave it be. Not! Also, if you insist on pushing your sunglasses up on your head, you just might get a triangle shaped sunburn on your forehead remniscent of a widow's peak. No matter how much sunscreen you put on that spot, it will get darker and darker and darker and family members will comment on it and strangers will stare at you. But to distract them, you can always yank down your wet pink tank top and say "Want to see Fantasy Land?". Tee hee! Shhhhhh. New knitting. Don't tell the sweater. This is the middle square of a baby blanket that I should have finished in Florida. Did not happen, my friends. So now I am knitting lickity split trying to finish it in time. I may need to create a rip in the time-space-continuum to accomplish this. It is very complicated, involving math equations, expiring warranties and possibly fake food like froot loops. Be afraid, be very afraid.
Monday, March 20, 2006
We are baaaack! And I feel like poopy lol. I went on vacation to get sick, apparently. Nothing like high fever, chills, body aches, muscle pains, and mucous when the temp is 87 and the humidity is high. Do you want to hear something silly? I am dissapointed that I didn't get to eat all those things I have been thinking about since last vacation LOL. Sonny's bbq, Golden Coral, Popeye's chicken. Nothing tasted right and my throat was on fire so couldn't swallow anything down anyway. On the upside, I did lose 10 pounds. Three theme parks and a day in a water park and not eating make a pretty good diet plan ;). Remember all those big undies I packed? Well I am glad they are all in good condition (if indelicate) because when I checked my bag she OPENED IT and wanded the contents right there in front of the world and everybody. I nearly croaked. I usually pack undies and things in a pocket, but this time I sort of rolled them and tucked them here and there. BIG MISTAKE. Shock and horror, ladies and gents. Shock and horror! DD still hasn't recovered, and it wasn't even her underwear. The flight out was delayed (why don't they figure this out BEFORE loading us up like cattle, then leaving us sit in a warm and smelly airplane to wait? Hmmmm?!?!) but uneventful otherwise. We landed, got our rental car, and drove to our hotel in time to fall into bed. All three of us, in a king size. Oh yes, we got the kidsuite for DD so she had a choice of three beds and her own tv, game system, etc. Do you think the child would sleep in the special area we spent extra a night for? Of course not! I was sick, so slept fitfully which kept her from clinging to me. She climbed all over DH all night. When she sleeps in her own bed, she sleeps stock still. But put her in a strange bed and she is all over the place! If you ever get multi-day passes, a word of advice. Try and stretch out the parks so that you have a day of rest in between. We did three parks in three days and let me tell you it was NOT pretty. Epcot - busy but not crowded, very interactive, we all enjoyed this park. Bathrooms everywhere. I was not feeling well but handled it. Disney - hot, crowded, dirty, bathrooms were hard to find and had long lines....we did not have as much fun here. Which weirded us out because we expected this to be the MOST fun due to DD's age. Many lines for attractions, food, and bathrooms are in full sun so you feel like a bug under a magnifying glass. Sicker than a dog, I wanted pretty much to be put out of my misery all day. Animal Kindgom - busy again but not really crowded. Shadiest of the parks and yet the hottest, maybe due to less air flow from all the vegetation and things? But we all seemed to enjoy it. DD was traumatized forever by the 3-d show "A bugs life". She may never forgive us for that one. I told her it built character. Typhoon lagoon - wow! This place was lovely just to walk around in, with paths and sand and palm trees and lagoons. Not wet-n-wild - while there are a few faster attractions most things are geared towards family fun and not crazy speed junkies. DD had a blast, as did DH. He does not swim, this was his first water park experience, and he liked it. We also took one night to see Arabian Nights, a dinner show. They breed Arabian horses there, and I do believe use the show as a source of money to continue that. I wish I could say it was wonderful, but just can't. While the horses themselves were absolutely breathtaking, the food was like eating tv-dinners and the ring was lined with wood-chip mulch which made it hard to breathe if the riders circled around more than a few times. The show itself was more americana than arabia. The seating was very narrow and uncomfortable considering the length of the show. Although I am glad we saw it, I have to say the Dolly Parton Dixie Stampede was hundreds of times better as far as the show, the comfort of the seating, and the food. We never made it to Gatorland or the petting farm, maybe next time. The return flight was pretty much uneventful, except for one thing. At the beginning of our trip, DH bought chips and dip. Two BIG bags of chips because they were a two-fer deal. Well, we dragged that second un-opened bag of chips with us EVERYWHERE for the rest of the week, and never ate them. When the trip ended, of course, we loaded those chips onto the plane with us. It only seemed natural. It was almost as if they were a new family member for gosh sakes. Partway through the flight, I was napping, DD was colouring quietly, and DH was doing his number puzzles when POP! We all jumped like we were shot. The chip bag popped open! Did you know that a chip bag would do that? We laughed like a bunch of loons. Gawd, are we nerds! A chip bag pops and we laugh fit to bust ourselves. So now we wonder. Was it the cabin pressure? Did somebody kick it? Did the chip bag just finally decide enough was enough and open itself? We may never know. No pictures today, too sick and tired to download anything. See you tomorrow!