Knitter gran

I'm poking my head out of my hole of self-pity for a moment to advertise my mom's new blog. I can't believe she's joined the blogosphere, but she has. She's a frequent commenter here, usually as "anonymous," but I always know it's her.

So take a look - As the Spirit Moves Me - and welcome her to the community.

Taking a break

I read through my last few posts and realized how gloom and doom filled they were. They pretty accurately reflect my mood this week. So in the spirit of not saying anything if I can't say something nice, I'm taking a few days off to pull myself together again.

But I'll leave you with one picture of my daughter. A few weeks ago, her class went on a field trip to the Rosedale school here in Austin, which serves kids who with physical disabilities. They had a rodeo and a petting zoo, which the kids, all of them, loved. One of the teachers took this picture of Ella, which I think is just beautiful, and a little scary. We're going to be beating the boys away with baseball bats when she gets older.

I said "UNCLE!"

What sort of cosmic infraction have I committed to deserve this? I'd really like to know.


Just when I thought things couldn't get worse Tuesday, they did. Shortly after B left to meet with his client, I started throwing up. I called him to see if there was any way he could come home to help me, and there wasn't. Instead, his father came over to wrangle the kids. I hid in my bedroom and bathroom and spent the following six hours throwing up every 45 minutes, just like clockwork.

At 8:00, my father-in-law poked his head in my room to tell me that Campbell had started throwing up, too. I was so sick that I couldn't even get up to take care of my own baby. Fortunately, Campbell's bout was as short-lived as his sisters'. He threw up twice then fell asleep without further protest.

B arrived home from his meeting at 9:00 and started throwing up. At this point, my father-in-law broke out the lysol and started scrubbing everything in sight. He probably went home and bathed in it, too. Poor B spent most of the night throwing up. I eventually moved out onto the sofa so that I could doze without being woken up by his sprints to the bathroom.

I spent most of yesterday flat on the sofa in a haze while Campbell noodled around. The girls both went to school since they were acting like they had never been sick. I was in bed and asleep by 8:00 last night.

Here's hoping today is better.

Crying "uncle"

I've had quite enough, now, thank you very much. I can't take anyone else getting hurt or sick, I just can't.

My Mother's Day started at 2:00 am when Ella tapped me on the shoulder. My initial thought was that she was so excited about Mother's Day that she was up bright and early to be the first to thank me for being such a great mom. Instead, she announced that she thrown up. I went into her room and quickly backed out again due to the smell. I yelled for back-up from Brandon and handed Ella a bucket. I gave B a pile of towels and cleaning spray and fled before I threw up from the smell. B cleaned everything up balanced on one foot and one crutch and put all the nasty towels in the washer and started it. I knew there was a reason I love him so much.

Ella spent Sunday pretty flat but was fine to go to school on Monday. Whatever she had was short-lived.

This morning, I took Lily to preschool early to be home in time to greet Campbell's babysitter. I was supposed to be working at Ella's school book fair this morning. But when we got out of the car at preschool, Lily started crying, saying she was going to throw up. I loaded her and Campbell back in the car, handed her a plastic bag to throw up in in, and called the sitter to cancel. Lily made it all the way home before throwing up on the door mat on the front porch. I put it straight in the trash. I'd rather buy a new one than clean up that mess.

I left Lily and Campbell with B, whose ability to take care of Campbell is somewhat limited since he still can't walk on his broken foot, so I could spend an hour at the book fair.

Lily is still dry heaving, and now I have a migraine. And B had to leave to meet with clients.

My hopes are that Lily's bout of whatever this is turns out to be as short-lived as Ella's was and that Campbell, B and I don't get it next. I really can't handle any more sickness right now.

Unplugged

I gave myself the Mother's Day gift of turning off my computer for the weekend. I needed to unplug for two days, or I was going to go nuts. That's the thing about working from home - work is always there, e-mails are always popping up.

I'd like to say I didn't check e-mail all weekend, but that would be a lie. I swiped B's computer for a few minutes and checked e-mail three different times. But I didn't respond to anything work-related.

Because I was offline, I also didn't read any of my usual news sites or blogs. That means I have some catching up to do. Or maybe I don't. It was kind of nice being out of the loop for a weekend. I might just not get back in.

Love Thursday

I love this picture. It's my parents on their wedding day with my dad's mother and step-father. I swiped this copy of the picture from an album in my grandparents' house when I was there for my grandmother's memorial service and carried it home in my knitting bag so nothing would happen to it.

My parents basically eloped, if you can call telling people you're getting married ahead of time an elopement. They got married at St. Peter's in Albany by the Reverend Dr. Bruner, and Dr. Bruner's son Jeff was my dad's best man. My dad and Jeff had grown up as neighbors and close friends all their lives.

My favorite part of the story was that my grandfather was down shoveling snow off the pond when one of my dad's younger brothers ran down to tell him about the upcoming wedding. My grandfather didn't even need to change clothes before going to the church - he had been shoveling snow dressed in a tie and jacket.

After the ceremony, attended by my grandparents and several of my dad's younger brothers, everyone went back to my grandparents' house and cake and champagne. That's when this picture was taken.

They all look so young - my parents were 22 and 23 - and happy. You can't see it in this picture, but my mom's dress was very mini; I doubt it reached to the tip of her fingers when she held her arms down. It was pink and the belt was purple.

Despite its rather hasty beginning, my parents' marriage has endured; they celebrated their 38th anniversary back in December.

Almost Wordless Wednesday

It's a good thing it's Wordless Wednesday, because I don't have the brain function to actually write anything. Here's our health score card:

B - Broken heel, but no surgery needed (thank goodness for small favors)
Ella - Healthy, but lots of attitude
Lily - No fever, but still coughing, cruelly sent to preschool anyway
Campbell - Seems to be coming down with what Lily had
HOK - Sore throat, fever - suspect strep but can't manage to call the doctor


And now for today's pictures. We made it to the lake on Sunday for B's birthday. The water was brisk, to say the least, but that didn't stop Ella from swimming until she turned blue. Campbell was surprising cooperative about wearing his life jacket the whole time we were there.

From bad to worse

Last week when B broke his heel, I asked what else could go wrong. As I predicted, I shouldn't have asked that. Things have gotten worse.

We went to the lake on Sunday in honor of B's birthday, and that turned out to be a bad call. It was too much for him, even though he spent most of the time sitting with his foot up. His neck problems flared up as a result of his being up and around on his crutches so much. Plus his PT appointment yesterday for his neck aggravated things. He finished yesterday in a lot of pain.

I kept Lily home from preschool yesterday because she is sick. She keeps running a low-grade fever and has a nasty cough. Campbell now mimics her cough, which is entertaining the first few times he does it. Lily is home again today because her fever went up to 101 at bedtime last night, and her cough won't go away. I think I'll be calling the doctor.

And to add insult to injury, I seem to be sick. My throat is so swollen and sore that I can barely swallow. I can't afford to be sick right now. I'm behind on work from last week, and B can't help with the kids much because of his foot. It's just really not fair at all. I want to crawl back into bed for a few hours, but I can't. I have an article on the importance of genetic counseling to write, a conference call at 10:00, presentations for Holt to finalize, four baskets of laundry to fold, a kitchen to mop, and children to chase after.

Sob.

A special contest

So my bloggy friend Drunken Housewife is hosting a "name hok's baby" contest for me. Drunken Housewife is a cool San Francisco blogger and mother of two awesome girls. She fosters kittens and has ongoing battles with a psycho contractor who is building a house down the street. She also loves World of Warcraft, whatever the heck that is, and Project Runway Canada (Iman is a goddess).

So if you have an opinion about the name of our fourth child, drop on by and leave a comment. We'll take them under advisement, but I can't guarantee we'll use any of the suggestions.

Picture Friday

I don't really have much to write. It's been a sucky few days around here, what with B's broken foot and my continued nausea. So I thought I'd post a cute picture of my little man. We spent the whole day calling him "Panama Pete."

Just after I took the picture, he crawled onto the desk and started banging on the keyboard to the other computer, causing it to crash completely.