I'm thinking of renaming this sporadic blog "My Journal of the Plague Year." That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Since I last wrote, we've managed to contract both the real flu and the stomach flu. Any time now, the CDC should be sending men up here in hazmat suits to officially declare our house a hot zone. Currently, having run out of viruses to catch, I am suffering from a bacterial infection on one side of my face (very attractive). "Cellulitis," I heard the doctor mutter, with a look in her eyes I didn't quite like. So I went home and looked up cellulitis. A piece of advice - never scroll to the bottom of these disease pages and check out the "Possible Complications"; it's a hypochondriac's nightmare.
Despite the obvious danger, Grandma C and Auntie Kate showed up for their annual week-long visit on Tuesday. Maybe those CDC guys should leave a couple of complimentary hazmat suits for them. We're enjoying our traditional sewing/knitting/crocheting frenzy with Auntie Kate; she even has Brian sitting there, poking a needle and thread through some scraps of fabric. Grandma isn't repeating herself quite as much as usual, because she keeps falling asleep.
Brian's birthday was this past week, and he spent many hours making plans for the big day. Most of the plans revolved around food - you'd think he didn't get to eat the rest of the year. I love 6-year-olds. His dearest desire was to go to the McDonald's with the outdoor playland - so we did. Anything to avoid having to throw a real party.
Rachel is in big-girl underpants now. Miracles never cease. Now if she would stop waking up every other night screaming that her bottom hurts, we would really be getting somewhere. Either something is very wrong with her, or I am sleepwalking in there and spanking her in my sleep. Anything is possible. Susie has likewise decided that there is no real reason to sleep all night. Don't they realize I need to live long enough for them to grow up?
In case it seems that I have accomplished nothing these past few months (aside from dosing little people repeatedly with over-the-counter meds and complaining to anyone who would listen), I would like to announce that, since mid-January, I have lost over 20 pounds (being ill doesn't hurt the weight-loss effort - there's my silver lining). Larry didn't even seem to mind paying all that money for Weight Watchers. He is going to mind all the money I'm going to spend on new clothes, however. So much to wear, so little time...
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