*shudder*

I can't have another night like Wednesday night. A regular "bad" night for me involves not only Simon having a night terror and ending up on the couch (plus Ike's normal wakings), but also some weird, WEIRD dreams- usually brought on by me forgetting to take my pills until almost bedtime. Those things mess with my head.

This wasn't a normal "bad" night. Even with Simon sleeping just fine, the dreams I had took that night way beyond bad. "Bad" became a smudge on the horizon.

I can't tell you what the dreams were about- it's not that I can't remember, I just can't talk about it. Nothing like normal nightmares, where something bad happens to you or the people you love- we weren't even in these ones. Lots of horrible things happening to people- and I couldn't wake up. The first time Ike woke up, I not only didn't hear him, I also didn't wake up (or move) when AJ came into the room. Or when he talked to me. Or when he kicked the bed... I think I scared him.

Sometimes getting up once is enough to get out of that weird, deep dream-state, but not that night. As soon as I was back in bed, it started again, and it didn't seem like I got a break until AJ came to bed at 2:00- I didn't get any rest, anyway. I was so relieved when he came to bed; I woke up coated in sweat, shaking, but at least I was awake. I went to the bathroom and flicked the light on to try to wake up even more, had a drink of water, and went back to bed. I was still pretty shaky, and I begged AJ to help me remember to take my pills earlier in the day.

I don't know why I forget. Part of it's lack of visual cues- I can't keep my pill box on the kitchen counter (where I would see it when I have my tea, the most logical time to get all medicated up) because Simon will see it there, and he seems to think that all pills are "buyamins" and will taste like the crunchy little Flintstones he gets every day (when he reminds me). Oten when I'm in my own bathroom and I see that little SMTWTFS box, I haven't eaten anything recently, which I need to do before I take the pills.

So my wonderful husband, as soon as I asked for help, set his watch for 2:00 every afternoon so he can call and make sure I've taken my medications. One of these days I'll get my own watch, but this is good for now.

I remembered yesterday... but I was still scared to fall asleep last night.

Oh, Deer...

My deer are back! OK, they're not MY deer in the sense that I own them... more like "my neighbours" than "my cat." They visited our yard a lot before the snow came, and then they were gone for a long time- not much point coming out here when there's no grass or clover available.

They came out again last week, after most of the snow had melted, and we've seen at least two of them (usually 3) together once or twice a day for the last 3 days. They're so pretty. Alert, too- if the boys or I go over to the big window, the deer have to stare at us for a few minutes to make sure we're not coming any closer before they can go back to their grazing. One of them doesn't even come far out of the trees- nervous disposition, I guess.

I got a few pictures this morning- not great ones (see above for the best one), but good enough. The deer in the picture there is hurt. I don't know what happened to her- I couldn't see any injuries, but she was limping and her leg (the one she's favouring in the picture) kept giving out on her. It was very sad. She was getting around, but it wasn't easy, and there's no way she can go fast if she needs to.

I don't need anyone to tell me that "these things happen" and "you shouldn't get attached to wild animals." I know that already, and I'm not attached- I haven't named them, they're not pets. But they're familiar, and the fact is that I hate to see anyone or anything suffering. I hope she's not in pain... and I hope she'll get better. I know her odds aren't good, though- there are cars, dogs and coyotes around here.

I try to remember that they live in a different world, where life is harder and nobody dies of old age. Sucks, though.

Skweewers

In all my life, I have never wished o hard that I was in a city I've never even visited before.

This morning I read Whoopee's post "May Contain Squirrels"- and it made my day. I truly wish I was in London, and that I was finding random squirrel signs everywhere.

The world needs more of this. I think I'm in love.

I need to throw up. I WANT to throw up- it would probably make my stomach feel better, at least for a little while. But I can't. If I do that, I'll lose the Advil Liqui-Gels I just took for this facking migraine I've got, and where would that leave me? I'd also lose this giant cup of caffeine-y goodnedd I'm nursing, which is also an essential part of my migraine cocktail.

Also, tea and toast taste terrible on the way back up. I know this and many other things from my experiences in the magical land of morning sickness- I can provide a detailed list of exactly how bad many things taste on the way back up (hint: nothing tastes better coming up than it did going down).

Good Lord, it hurts! This sucker started yesterday, but didn't get really bad until this morning. I would be crying if I hadn't trained myself not to- that only makes it hurt more. Crying doesn't help one stay calm or hydrated, you know.

Ike's smelly butt isn't helping my head, and the sight of his runny nose is, quite frankly, not doing much for the nausea. I adore that child, but at this moment he's 2/3 of a migraine perfect storm- at least he's not screaming. I need to go take care of that.

I wish I could take Immitrex right now- it's a nasal spray, so I wouldn't have to worry about puking it up, and it works on migraines... then again, it would probably be too late; I think you have to take it at the beginning of these things. I don't have any, though- don't even have a prescription. That stuff knocks me right out- a blessing under normal circumstances, but not exactly safe when you're responsible for two active, curious little boys. Probably not good to have in breastmilk, either, though that's only an issue at night these days.

Oh, to be able to go to bed with a dark cloth over my eyes, an ice pack under my head, and earplugs in my head!

The things you don't appreciate before you have kids...

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Saturday Haiku- Doodlebops

The blue Doodlebop

seems a bit gay* -strange that the

RED one's name is "Moe"





*I'm not saying he is or isn't... just saying that people have mentioned he's "a bit flaming" is all...

Poop Patrol (Waaay TMI, especially during lunch)

Simon has decided on a career and we couldn't be prouder of our little man. He's showing some promise, and has great enthusiasm for his position as Poop Inspector.

It's a surprising career choice for him- Simon still isn't showing much interest in using the potty, except for when he remembers that he gets stickers and can earn presents from his efforts. Then he hops up on the toilet, grunts, strains and farts for a few minutes, saying "Go poo potty... get car! Go poo potty... get... CAR!" Then he gives up.

Poop in DIAPERS, though- now THAT interests him. He spends a few minutes in denial each time he goes ("Simon, did you poop?" "Noooooo!"), but once he's moved on to the acceptance stage of diaper changing, he's quite interested in the process. "I make-a da Big Poopie!" he announces proudly. "I see da Big Poopie?"

And so he sees da Big Poopie. If it's not too messy, he helps flush da Big Poopie down da big toilet, and says, "bye-bye, Big Poopie!" I WILL draw the line the day he asks to "touch-a da big poopie," though.

And it's not just his own Big Poopies that are in need of inspection. No, sir! Every time Ike gts his butt changed, Simon asks, "Ike make a Big Poopie?" If the answer is no, he goes back to whatever he was doing. If yes, he scurries over and hunkers down, waiting to see what wonders await within his brother's diaper. Comments follow: "Ooooh, it's YEWWOW!" or, "Oh, Ike, dat's a big MESSY poop!" or (slightly alarmed) "What's DAT?!"*

After sufficient inspection has occurred (and a quick glance IS NOT ENOUGH), Simon nods and goes back to his irregularly scheduled programming.

It's a tough job, and the pay sucks, but Simon seems to feel that someone's gotta do it, and if he's the only one willing to take an interest in da Big Poopies, so be it. He's a godsend, that one.



*"Dat" was chunks of carrot from the previous day's soup. Why do I bother?

Booooks

When I sign into Windows Live Messenger (as I do every day, hoping with all my heart that there will be SOMEONE I can talk to), the "Windows Live Today" box pops up. I usually glance at the titles of whatever they think is important at that moment and close the box- As pressing as such issues as "10 Nude Scenes We Didn't Need to See" are, I just don't have any patience for them.

BUT- here's one for ya: "10 Books That Caused A Commotion*" was actually fairly interesting. It's not an exhaustive list of controversial books by any means, but it's a sampling of what we've found shocking, disturbing, or just WRONG in the past and today. "To Kill A Mockingbird" tops the list- what was once controversial was part of my 10th grade English curriculum. I've been meaning to re-read that one... onto the list it goes!

Why did this list show up today? Well, there's this book coming out in English- it's already sold more than a million copies in German- called "Wetlands" by Charlotte Roche. You can, uh... you can read that article if you want to see why it's controversial, or if you're feeling REALLY brave, you can Browse Inside to read the first 15 pages or so. Definitely not for those with weak stomachs or those who are easily offended; the book's 18-year old narrator/protagonist is talking about anal sex on the first page. That and hemmheroids.

And yet... I might just read the rest of it. That, and some of the other books on the list. My mind's not getting any bigger if I'm only reading things that re-affirm what I already know and believe.

Tell me what you think: Why do you read? WHAT do you read, and where do you draw the line? Where's the line between mind-expanding and offensive? What book have you read that's been the most challenging to or different from your own way of thinking?

Seriously, comment on this one, OK? (Yes, this means you)



*This link will take you to the full article from HarperCollins, not the abridged Windows Live-linked version.

Zee camera, she eeez not workeeng. NOOOO!

To be fair, I guess this camera doesn't owe us much- it was a hand-me-down from a friend that we got after our first digital camera broke. I'm not hard on my cameras, I swear! The first one just stopped flashing (and then stopped everything else), and this one... well, I have no idea what's going on, but it's not happy, I can tell you that.

And when did I discover this? After Simon convinced me to put his old Superman Halloween costume on Ike. It looked ADORABLE- even more so after Simon put his Superman pajamas on. My little Supermen! My SuperBabies! And Simon wasn't even smacking Ike.

Oops- that last sentence jinxed everything. Simon just started screaming at Ike after a good 10 minutes of playing peacefully in the same room. I guess I should go...

The Rules of "Mine"

PUBLIC NOTICE

All residents of and visitors to this residence (henceforth referred to as "the house") are encouraged to read the following and to retain this sheet for future reference. In the event that a resident of the house is too young to read, he will be yelled and/or screamed at without restraint or mercy until the Rules of Mine are understood and obeyed.


Simon wishes to make known to all (and especially Ike) the following information about various items contained in the house:

1. a) The living room couch, should Simon be occupying any place on or around it, belongs to him. Any attempt to approach, look at, or touch said couch will result in ear-piercing shrieks of "NOOOO, IKE! IS SIMON'S COOOOUUUUCH!"

b) While Simon is in possession of Simon's Couch, Ike shall not approach or touch the associated coffee table. Such attempts or actions are punishable by screams of "NOOOO, IKE! DON'T TOUCH SIMON'S TAAAAABLE!"



2. The house rules state that any toys kept in the living room are for sharing. Simon hereby reserves the right to override this rule at any time, but especially when he is tired and/or cranky. Notice shall be given in shriek form: "NOOOOOO, IKE! DAT'S SIMON'S TOOOOOY!"


3. a) In the event that the television is on, Simon assumes full control ("Mine-ness") of all audio and/or visual output. Should Simon be in a bad mood, Ike will be notified immediately. "IIIIIKE! NO, IKE! NO WATCHIN' SIMON'S MOOOOOVIEEEEE!"

b) No attempts shall be made by anyone to sing or dance along with any movie or television program. Doing so will result in dirty looks and/or requests such as "No, Mommy! No dancin', Mommy!" or, "IKE! You no dance! It's SIMON'S movie!"


4. In the event that Simon decides to share his stuff, the recipient of such offer is required to accept this offer. Should the recipient is not interested in the particular toy or object being offered, Simon shall continue to press it into the recipient's hands or, if that fails, shall whack him on the head with it.


5. Simon will acknowledge the fact that other people own things- for example, "Dat's Ike's tiger!" Please note that such statements do not imply in any way that Simon will not expect to have use or possession of such objects, should he see someone else playing with them.



These rules and guidelines are subject to change at any time and without notice. Adults are encouraged to help Ike remember the Rules of Mine, as this should help avoid screaming, yelling, grabbing and/or pushing.

Thank you.

-Simon

PunditKitchen.com

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A Wonderful Waste of Time

Don't you love it when you remember a great blog you haven't looked at for a long time and you get to look back through all the posts you've missed? Or when you discover a new one that's so great you just want to read through EVERYTHING?

It's happened to me a few times. Sadly, I'm not good at the whole "self-control" thing, and rather than reading a few entries a day until I'm caught up, I tend to park myself at the computer and just read until my eyes fall out of my head or the kids need me- whichever happens first.*

About a month ago it was finslippy- I'm not exaggerating when I say that I read every word of that blog over the span of about a week (I'm a fast reader- it's great for stuff like this, not so great when a $17.00 book only lasts 3 days). She made me laugh, she made me cry... it was wonderful. Now I just watch for updates on my blogroll over yonder ----->

Yesterday a dear friend and all-around wonderful person told me she's taking a cake decorating course. My first thought was, "Oooh, fun!" My second thought was, "I wonder if they get to eat their mistakes..." THEN I remembered to tell her about Cake Wrecks. I read through this one back in the summer and actually laughed out loud more times than I could count- it's pictures of and commentary on professionally decorated cakes gone horribly, horribly wrong. Oh, the HILARITY!

Seriously, go read Cake Wrecks right now if you haven't done so before.




*Please note, I don't neglect my kids so I can do this. I joke about it, but really, I just let them have some "independent play time"- it's good for them, and it keeps me sane(r).

Some Pics From Last Week... Fairly Random

Ike takes advantage of Simon's sleepiness and plays with Simon's 'Snicklefritz' while he's not looking.

One on the only two people in the world I don't resent for sleeping for a long time and/or peacefully.

I didn't get a cake on my birthday because we were out all day, so AJ bought me one 9 days later. Sweet!

Not actually sure how to caption this one, except to say that Gus is, in fact, a loser.

The happiest sandwich I've ever made by accident. Two shakes of the mustard bottle, one swirly squirt, look down, and oh! Look who's a happy, happy sammich! Not for long, I'm afraid...

This is all I got, folks.

I have a sweater. Actually, I have several sweaters, but we only need to discuss one today. The red one.

The red one's nice- I bought it to wear at AJ's graduation weekend in November. It's got this deep v-neck- ridiculously deep. As much as AJ would LOVE to see me wear it without something underneath, it needs a camisole or something. I HAD a camisole- it went missing when we moved. It's just not anywhere.

I was looking at them (camisoles) at the mall the other day- same chain as where I got the sweater, in fact. I found some- nice enough, plain, spagheiit straps, lace at the top. Twenty bucks.

Gag.

I'm too used to buying my clothes at Value Village, I guess. Twenty bucks just seemed like a lot for a scrap of thin fabric and some lace. My theory is that it's the lace. It's probably hand-made out of unicorn hair, high in the Himalayas by two blind nuns whose home is only accessable by helicopter and then dogsled. They support an orphanage using only the proceeds from their lace-making. God bless them! *sniffle!*

You thought that story was going somewhere, didn't you? Sorry 'bout that.


* * * * * *

Is was standing in the grocery store last night, perusing the "feminine hygeine" section, and was completely baffled by the selection available- and this was a small store. It's no wonder guys hate being asked to buy this stuff- not only is it embarrassing for them, it's hard to remember whether she wanted the "36-pack regular unscented long pantiliner with wings decaf non-fat" or the "28-pack regular unscented long mini light pad without wings thong-shaped with an extra shot of espresso."

* * * * *

Congratulations are in order. Simon followed Andre to the bathroom a few nights ago, watched him pee, patted him on the leg and said, "Yay, Daddy! You a BIG boy!"

He later claimed that "Simon a big boy, too!" but refuses to prove it by using the potty.

The good news is that he walked in on me in the bathroom yesterday, and apparently I'm a big boy, too. At last!

Stay Tuned Next Week...

beep...beep...beep...beep...

Very Serious Doctor: Mr. Embers, is your wife here? We have the result of the-

AJ: No, no. She... she couldn't be here. She didn't want the kids to be here for this...I'll tell her later.

VSD: I understand.

AJ: Give it to me straight, doc. Is he gonna make it?

VSD:I'm afrraid the patient's condition is terminal, Mr. Embers.

AJ: I see.

VSD: It appears to be a gas leak. We could try to fix it, but there are no guarantees, and quite frankly, it wouldn't be worth the cost to save an appliance that's as old as this one.

AJ: You bastard!

VSD: (looks uncomfortable)

AJ: Sorry, doc... it's just... well, we were hoping for better. Is there anything you can do for him?

VSD: I'm going to put more gas in him- the freezy kind that makes the air to be cold. But it will leak again...

AJ: Spare me your medical mumbo-jumbo! Just tell me how long we have!

VSD: Who can say? These cases aren't predictable. It could be 6 months... it could be 2 days... it could be a year. My recommendation is that you all try to enjoy each day as it comes, for as long as you can. And then, when her time comes... buy a new fridge.

AJ: (trying to hold back tears) Thank you, doctor.

VSD: That'll be $63.10

When I Said I Wanted Warmer Weather, I Didn't Mean In My Freezer

Remember when I said that there was something rotten in the state of Kenmore? That there was this weird smell in my kitchen, blah, blah, blah? I think it's gone, but I have bigger rottage to worry about now- rottage and/or thawage (if either of those are words, I'll be very surprised).

My freezer isn't freezing. My frozen yogurt isn't frozen, but it's definitely not yogurt at this point, either- I'm choosing not to think too much about that one. The chicken breasts and pork chops I put in there yesterday aren't frozen yet, and everything else is thawing. Not good.

I've had theories about what might be wrong. None of them correct, mind you, but they were theories. I thought maybe things were warming up because Simon keeps leaving the fridge door open, so I used duct tape and felt to tie the door shut (it's lovely)- things still aren't cooling down. Cat hair in the coils? Nope. Perhaps not enough air flow around back of the fridge? Nah- that sucker's been pulled away from the wall all day, and I'm gettin' nuthin'. Temperature dial's backwards? Nope, the setting makes no difference.

I think the fridge is OK, but I'm not sure. If we're losing cheese, milk, lunch meat and leftovers along with whatever's getting cozy in the freezer, We shall not be amused.

So what to do? I could see if I can store some stuff in a friend's freezer, but the only person I know here is away in Puerto Alpaca or something- somewhere warm and sunny, anyway. I could cook up the meat that's in the freezer and keep it in the fridge, and we could just eat a whole lotta meat over the next few days- AJ would be happy with that option, anyway.

Or we could, you know, call a repairman. But that, my friend, would cost money. And until pay day (next Wednesday) comes around or the cheque for AJ's recent overtime comes in, it ain't happening. Not with the car payment coming out tomorrow and insurance and student loan coming out shortly thereafter.

But here's me looking on the bright side: I checked the freezer tonight to see if my magical pulling-things-away-from-walls powers had had any effect on relative coldness, and I discovered that the frozen scallops I'd bought with groceries had thawed. Can't have thawing seafood lying around, can we? So I ate them.* I ate them with melted butter, and it was delicious.

Any thoughts?**




*Please note: I did cook them first.

**On the freezer, not the scallops. Thank you.


_____________________________________________



UPDATE: (next morning) Yeah, the fridge has definitely crapped out, too. NOOOOOOOOOO!!!

My Shortest Post Ever

You wouldn't believe how much this looks like "Ike's dwink!" (bottle nipple) to some three-year olds- or how quickly their mommies can move to grab it before they try to use it as such:

WARNING: if you are a dude and/or squeamish and/or wary of TMI, maybe just move along without clicking...

http://www.divacup.com/