Knitting, The Best Medicine

The kids are still barking like seals here. I should put it on YouTube - "This is your kid on croup."

I managed to get some medicine from the doctor yesterday without having to go in to the office. Would you believe the receptionist tried to transfer my phone call to the advice nurse? I hung up and called the receptionist again and told her, "Honey, I don't need any advice. I have 6 kids, the youngest has croup, and she needs steroids. Tell the doctor." And she did. And he called in the prescription. Now that's power. (You need to have at least 4 kids in order to pull that off, though.)

And Larry did sneak off to work today. I overslept (that happens if you go to bed at 2 in the morning, you know) and earned the Bad Mother of the Year award by not getting up in time to wake Theo for his job (yes, I know he needs an alarm clock - we've bought gazillion alarm clocks and they all end up breaking). So he was late, but they didn't fire him - yet.

Now Larry is pulling apart my kitchen again (it's almost becoming a hobby for him, now isn't it?), because - get this - the tile guy is coming tomorrow. I'll believe that when I see it. The refrigerator, stove, and dishwasher are sitting in my dining room/living room, and the kitchen table and chairs are in the den. It's not really the decorating look that I like.

We're buying our Christmas tree this weekend. I had always had a hankering to do it the Norman Rockwell way, going out into the snowy woods of a tree farm and cutting down our own; but the one year we did that we froze our butts off, the tree sucked (as in, it was round and lopsided), and we paid a ridiculous amount for the privilege. So, this year, we're going to do the traditional thing: pile all the kids in the car, drive to Home Depot, tramp around in the slushy area next to the parking lot, and pick out a twenty-dollar, pre-cut tree.

Well, that's our tradition, anyway. And a darn good one it is, too.

I attended the local Stitch 'n' B*tch last night. We meet at a small restaurant and there were people getting up and coming over to stare at us, as though we were in some sort of knitting zoo. Or maybe they were just trying to see what we were drinking. We were getting a bit raucous.

But I'm telling you, nice as these knitters are, they scare me. The 2 women next to me were having a serious discussion about their spinning wheels and how to card wool, and a 3rd woman chimed in from further down the table. I was tempted to ask if they raise their own sheep, too; but I restrained myself. I'm still sort of new there.

No Anna stories tonight, folks - I'm doing my best to ignore her completely. Life's better that way. G'night!