Gotta Get Me A Rocking Chair

Okay,  I had another nero day today (as commenter Harry so aptly described it yesterday). My voice is completely gone, I'm coughing up gunk from my lungs, and when I eat, my stomach hurts, which makes no sense at all. Every time I dropped off to sleep last night, I would immediately wake up feeling as though I were choking (hello, adult croup!), so I knew from the start that not a lot would get done today.

Homemade mac-n-cheese - cures what ails ya

Only, NO. We had 3 (count them, 3!) doctor's appointments (none of which concerned my current plague), plus I had promised dinner to another family (not to mention my own), which meant I actually had to cook a real meal  (mac-n-cheese, with a side of buttered broccoli pre-chopped from Costco, because let's be realistic here). And that's how my not-very-restful sick day went down.

Don't worry, I made sure not to breathe on the finished product. I think my neighbors already look at me as though I am Typhoid Mary - no need to make things worse.

Somewhere in there, though, the girls and I did manage to watch the last Harry Potter movie (the one I took David to all those years ago). Because, yes, it is still raining here.  15 days and counting...it feels as if someone up and canceled the entire month of May. You know, May is usually the best month in this area - no mosquitoes yet, reasonable temperatures, relatively low humidity. But it ain't happening this year. We'll go from an extended April to our hot, muggy summer and there's nothing we can do about it.

I just spent this whole post complaining about my health and the weather - what am I, 80 years old? Apparently, yes.




[Mac-n-cheese image: Food Hacks]

Fevered Maunderings

Yesterday I had to throw my largest mixing bowl on top of the HUGE wasp that was wandering around Rachel's bedroom floor. Then I waited for Larry to come home and do something with the monster.

I swear, I don't know what single moms do about these sort of problems. That creature looked big enough to lift small cars. Where the heck is my bug boyfriend when I need him?

The cold from hell is STILL here. I managed to ignore it Sunday and not only go to yoga class but also bike 20 miles with my Fit Friend, because, yes, we signed up again for the Tour de Cure and we have not trained at all. In 4 weeks, we have to bike 56 miles, and the 20 we did on Sunday almost killed us. Last night I went to Bunco, which must have been the last straw for my frail, pseudo-elderly self, because I spent the rest of the night feeling as though I were getting the flu.

I'm so much fun.

In high demand around here...

So today has been officially designated a do-nothing day. I mean, except for the science class carpool and, oh yeah, we're out of Kleenex, so I have to pop into Target. And I wiped down the bathrooms just now because it isn't as if my kids are going to leap into the breach here. So let's be realistic and call it a do-almost-nothing day, I guess.

We're out of Sudafed again, too. Didn't pharmacies used to deliver? What happened to that?







[Kleenex image: Kleenex.com]

Music To My Ears

I STILL have the head cold from hell. Or maybe it is a new head cold from hell. I have no idea, but what is certain is that if I have to buy one more box of Sudafed from the pharmacy here, I'm going to have the DEA busting down my front door, looking for the meth lab.

I had the nerve to go to bed early last evening (see above, re head cold). This rarely happens, and when I had to get up at 3 AM to give Susie some Motrin (because now she is sick again, too, and will this ever stop?), I remembered why this rarely happens. I walked into the kitchen and found dishes in the sink, crap all over the kitchen table, floor unswept, etc.

This coupon is NEVER valid.

If you will recall, this sort of thing has happened before, the last time I had the nerve to go to bed early. That was 8 years ago. And, yes, I AM still pissed off about it. All these years of training, and as soon as I close my eyes, what happens? NOTHING. It's as if these children never even heard me ranting all these years, "No one sits down until we ALL sit down!" and "What's your kitchen job? Do your kitchen job!"

A fine start to Mother's Day Weekend, I'll tell you that. I hightailed it out of here this morning to work at the yoga center, but not before bitching about the state of the kitchen to Larry. He was hurt. "You SAID you wanted everyone to be quiet," Larry said in his I was only trying to help voice. "You SAID you wanted to SLEEP."

Sigh. Yeah, I did say that. But I can sleep through the sounds of dishes being washed, you know. To me, that's just a lullaby.


[Dirty dishes image: Cliparts.co]

Beauty School Dropout

The performer's friend...

Well, my brief stint in showbiz is over - we did the LTYM DC show yesterday, which felt almost anti-climactic after all the time I spent worrying about it. You see, I had a cold all day Friday and Saturday and envisioned myself at Sunday's performance sneezing and coughing through my entire reading. As it turns out, I pre-gamed with a ton of Sudafed and Excedrin and managed not to gross anyone out.

However, being drugged up and also in a minor fugue state from stage fright, I have no idea how my reading went. I vaguely recall people laughing, so that's good, right? I guess I will have to wait for the YouTube video, just like the rest of you.

I still have the cold from hell, plus I have post-show letdown. Fun.

A former LTYM DC cast member did our makeup. My whole face is heading south faster than a heavy speeding bullet dropped from an airplane, and it is scary to look at, almost like when the Nazis faces are melting at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. The makeup artist applied her products lightly, but it had the effect of making me look a little less frightening. I've got to learn how to do that. The nerve of my parents sending me to an Ivy League university instead of cosmetology school - at this point, I am thinking the latter would have been more useful.

Back in March I got back on the Weight Watchers counting-points bandwagon, plus I started walking 15,000 steps a day, in an attempt to feel better and yes, lose a few pounds, because I swear they are all in my bust and my face. So, after 6 weeks of this and feeling, truth to tell, quite marvelous about myself, I stepped on the scale at my ob-gyn's office last week and saw that I was one pound over the weight that I guessed I was in mid-March when I started my healthy-life regimen.

But, hey - healthy! 6 miles a day and all that...



[Sudafed image: Stop The Drug War]

God Save The Cadburys

I am one lucky gal

Larry came home from London today, bearing chocolate, plus shortbread. He did an EXCELLENT job, so I might let him go back, if he ever has the chance.

You know when you realize home-owning is fun? When you have to unclog the powder room toilet the minute you put down your suitcase.

For some reason, this week while Larry was gone, ALL THE THINGS happened, so the poor man was bombarded with information the minute he walked in the door. Larry heard all about Brian's audiology appointment (poor kid was going deaf in one ear, because I am the WORST mother in the entire world), the line-up of activities we are scheduled for this weekend, David's plans for the summer, Theo's present whereabouts (he left for the Mideast the same day Larry left for Europe), and then Anna's money-saving decision to move back home for the next few months. I swear, you'd think he had been gone a year.

And now I am realizing that we didn't even get around to telling him about Brian's latest dumb accident (and believe me, it's even dumber than when he dropped his own pants in the potty). When I walked into Brian's room Wednesday morning to make sure he was up for his doctor's appointment, I found myself staring at a ceiling fan with a missing blade. I looked at the wall, expecting to find the blade embedded therein. But no, it was lying quietly, brokenly, on Brian's desk chair, and it didn't look as though there were any blood stains in the room; so, all in all, it could have been worse.

Housekeeping tip for the kids: turn off the ceiling fan BEFORE standing on your bed and trying to unbunch your duvet.

And, yes, I know, this is my fault - I shouldn't insist that the kids make their own beds. Or at least, that's what Brian tried to tell me. Mea culpa.