Thursday, May 31, 2012

They Were Mine

It’s always fun to talk about embarrassing moments. At the time they occur, one might feel an overwhelming urge to burst into convulsing sobs, but after a few years (or even a few minutes, in some cases) embarrassing moments are a great topic of conversation with friends and co-workers. A few summers ago, I entertained the youth of my church at Girls’ Camp by telling them my most embarrassing moment. Something about “my moment” hit them in such a way that they recruited their friends to gather around me, forcing me to relive it again and again and again… You wanna hear about it? I bet you do….
Allow me first to share two pieces of my background:
#1 When I was in fifth grade, I was put into an experimental classroom setting that combined 4th, 5th, and 6th graders who tested above average. We were isolated from our peers during school hours with the exception of recess, P.E., and music classes. By the time 6th grade rolled around, the program was dissolved, and we were put back into regular classrooms. Because of this isolation from my peers, the following year became crucial to my social redemption.
In summary, age twelve was the worst possible time this could have happened to me.
#2 I grew up in a very small house with one bathroom. Having one bathroom makes it very difficult to shower because there is always someone who needs to pee while you’re in there. Because of such intrusions, I always took special care while undressing. I’d take my bra and underwear and tuck them neatly inside my pants before placing them on the floor. That way, if someone came in to go potty while I showered, they wouldn’t see my unmentionables. After showering, I’d take my pile of clothes back to my room and toss them in the laundry basket.
In summary, my underwear usually went into the washing machine with my pants.
And now, on with the story.
On a spring day in 6th grade, my school had a fire drill. My class was assigned a meeting place at the top of a hill on the playground. I was one of the last to exit the classroom that day, so as I approached the hill, most of my classmates were already there waiting. Since I had lingered behind a bit, I decided to make up time by sprinting up the hill. I was wearing shorts that day, and as I ran toward my school mates, I felt something brush against my leg. Annie, who was beautiful, popular, and stuck on herself in every way, called down the hill to me, “Hey! You dropped something.” I stopped and turned only to recognize – in sheer horror – a pair of my very own underwear lying there in the grass.

Time froze as I contemplated the situation. Had my underwear fallen off somehow? No. Could they possibly be someone else’s? No. Then I realized: they had been laundered inside my pant leg and somehow managed to stay there until that very crucial moment. Without any other option to pull me out of the depths of humiliation, I shrieked, “Ewwww! Those aren’t mine!” and the whole of my classmates suddenly became aware of the freshly fallen undies in the grass. They responded, as any group of thirty twelve-year-olds would, with laughter and accusations. Fortunately, I removed myself from the spotlight, and no one pointed fingers at me, not even Annie, who had seen them fall from my very own shorts. Since I successfully convinced my class mates that the underwear belonged to someone else, I left them there lying in the grass. No one knew they were mine, and no one ever would so long as I didn't attempt to retrieve them.
It wasn’t the first time a pair of underwear had shown up on the playground at school. Several months prior, my friends and I had come across a pair of men’s tightey whiteys near the baseball diamond. If I learned anything from that first episode, it was that underwear stays on the playground until the wind blows it elsewhere. After the fire drill, I spent every day for weeks and weeks knowing that I had to go out on the school playground during recess and face my own panties. They moved a lot; some days they were in the grass, other days they were on the asphalt, but they were always somewhere and remained in the vicinity until the school year ended. Thank heavens I went to Junior High, or I might have had to endure my playground panties into the next school year. For all I know, they might still be there keeping my deepest darkest secret.
But it didn’t end there. Like I said, I went on to Junior High, and I continued my panty-stuffing ways each time I showered. One day while walking to my locker, something felt slightly "off," so I glanced down and noticed a slight bulge in my pant leg. I knew exactly what it was…my underwear… again! But this time I was prepared. I felt the bulge moving slowly down my leg with each step I took. I kept up the pace, knowing that they would soon make their exit into the hallway. If I slowed down or stopped, everyone would see them fall from my pant leg, but if I kept walking quickly, they would become lost and trampled in a sea of teenagers, and by the time someone noticed them, I’d be long gone.

My plan worked. I anonymously lost my panties in the hall of my school and never looked back.
Now that I'm an adult (and have several years to protect me from the experience), I have no shame in confessing...

They were mine! The whole time, they were mine! 

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Getting Our Memorial On

I didn't intend to write a post about our Memorial Day weekend, but I read so many other awesome posts about the weekend that I couldn't just sit back and exclude myself!

Our Memorial Day festivities started last Monday. I took the kids to the dollar store to pick out some pinwheels to take to the cemetery (that was our "field trip" for the week). Nicky has always been very curious about death, so going to the cemetery was quite the experience for him. We went and visited the graves of Scotty's grandma, Scotty's brother, and my grandpa. 

Scotty had Friday off work, so we headed up to the cabin for the night. Daisy is our little fisherman (fishergirl?) She LOVES her Barbie fishing pole, and she's pretty good at casting. She always asks Scotty to put some "bake" on her line. He has to trick her because there's no hook on it, but she hasn't figured it out yet.

I always spend a lot of time wandering around the pond taking pictures of wildflowers. I'm not a big fan of fishing (one of Scotty's only complaints about me - luckily he's willing to overlook this flaw and stay married to me).

Scotty used Daisy for an arm workout on our way back to the cabin.

(Random fact: Scotty has lost nearly thirty pounds this year).

On Saturday we left the cabin and drove home through Park City. We drove past the shoe tree(s) which nearly killed me because there are so many really nice pairs of shoes up there that I would love to get my hands on.

(They donate them to charity every fall).

That night we watched Mission Impossible (we're only 16 years behind the times), and I was reminded that Tom Cruise, though sometimes strange, isn't ugly.

On Sunday, we did the church thing, then we went to an indoor weenie roast at my mother-in-law's house. We roasted German hot dogs and brats over her living room fire. After that, we went to my father-in-law's house for a BBQ. We played a few exciting round of "I Never" (special Mormon non-drinking edition) and then a few rounds of Werewolves around the fire.

{photo stolen borrowed from my sister-in-law who shall remain Nameless}

On Monday, we bummed around for most of the day. We went to lunch at Chuck-A-Rama so I could fill up on scones and mashed potatoes. That night we went to a family reunion. The kids had a blast and came home filthy.

We had a lot of fun, and we were extra spoiled with a four-day weekend. I'll take as many of those as I can get!

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Of Winners and Losers

I have a freakishly good memory when it comes to names, faces, and general information about people. Sometimes it’s a blessing, but sometimes it’s a curse. It makes me seem a little stalker-ish at times. I always know who everyone is, and I can usually tell you a few random facts about a person who doesn’t remember ever meeting me.
Creepy, no?
I used to work at a country store for a local dairy. I made ice cream cones, stocked the shelves with milk, and wore an apron with cow spots on it. Fun times! As a cashier, I knew 90% of the customers by name because they paid with checks or debit cards. The other 10% were either first-time customers, or paid with cash, but even with cash-paying customers, I usually knew what they wanted, and if I saw them walk in while their product of choice was out-of-stock, I’d run back and throw some on the shelves before they could blink an eye.
One day, while not at work, I was listening to the radio when the DJ announced the winner of a Disneyland trip for four. I recognized the winner as one of the dairy customers. A few days later, when she came in to the store, I congratulated her on her big win and asked about her plans. She told me who she was taking and when they were going and how excited she was. Then she said, “I can’t believe I’ve won three trips in a row!”
“What!?!” I replied.
“Yeah, this is the third trip we’ve won from the radio station. Every time I enter, I win.”
She told me about the cruise she won and the trip to Disney World. She explained that she can only win once every two years because of the radio station guidelines, so she only enters every-other year, and she always wins.
It made me sick. Why? Because I’m a natural born loser. I never win contests or games of chance. I don't get chosen for giveaways or have my number drawn for raffles. If luck is the primary determinant in winning, I don't win!

Need I mention my intense dislike for BINGO?
The other day Scotty and I went to a 25th Anniversary party for his work. All of the employees in attendance were entered into a drawing to win $5,000. Scotty and I both immediately tuned out because we knew we wouldn't win (you might call this pessimism, but for natural born losers like us, it's just realism). During the drawing, I had a moment where I promised Fate that if we won that money, we would pay our 10% tithing to the Church then donate the rest to a family in need (I even had the family picked out). I just wanted to see if having a big heart is what makes people winners.
Guess what!
It's not.
Of course we didn't win!
(And good thing, too, because, if we'd won, I would have had to tell Scotty about Fate).
I recovered quickly from our loss because I knew that, even though I can't win by chance, I can still win by skill. Unfortunately, the very next night, for the first time in two years, I didn't win Risk.
18/365 - Australia's the Key to the Whole Game

So I guess I'll never win a free trip or a wad of cash, and from the looks of it, I won't ever make it three years undefeated in a board game. But I'll always remember that there was a lady who won three trips in a row from the local radio station, and her name was Nancy, and she drank 2% milk.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Garden 2012

Last year I took progressive pictures of my garden throughout the summer. It was really fun to see how it grew. For my own satisfaction, I decided to do it again this year. I kept thinking that I would get all of the weeds pulled out of the rocks and get all of the odds and ends picked up before I snapped a photo. Then I decided that I might as well remember it the way it really was. 

Garden May 2012

We finished planting over Mothers' Day weekend. Everything is doing really well except for the cantaloupe and the cucumbers. We are cursed and have never, in nine years of marriage, successfully grown cucumbers or cantaloupe. 

Any year now we expect to be blown away!

Two nights ago I ate our first strawberry! I can't wait for a few more of those bad boys! Oh my yum! We've been eating lettuce and spinach this week, and peas are getting close!

Here are some of the things we are growing this year:
  • Cucumbers (traditional, armenian, and lemon)
  • Tomatoes
  • Pumpkins (mini and standard)
  • Winter Squash (acorn, spaghetti, and butternut)
  • Strawberries
  • Watermelon 
  • Summer Squash (zuuchini and straight-neck)
  • Cantaloupe (regular and mini)
  • Tigger Melon
  • Green Beans
  • Cilantro
  • Rosemary
  • Green Onions
  • Garlic
  • Peppers (about 10 different varieties)
  • Carrots (orange and purple)
  • Peas
  • Lettuce (two different varieties)
  • Spinach

We also have a successful grape vine - for the first time ever - with wee, bitty grapes starting to grow. Squee! And we have some raspberry bushes, so we might get a handful of raspberries this year (they are still quite young).

Hopefully we won't starve any time soon!

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

My Blogging Community

When I started blogging in 2005, non-bloggers didn't read blogs. In fact, the word "blog" meant nothing to most people, so I had to tell everyone that I had a "web site."

No one cared.

It was fine.

To gain any sort of readership, I had to go out in the blogging world and make blogging friends. After about a year of effort, I found a place in an online community. I had friends! I had readers! It was really fun!

Now, almost seven years later, that community has nearly dissolved. Most of the friends I made in the early days of blogging post very rarely, if at all. We're still friends, and we stay in touch in other ways (save for a few people), but there is a major lack of blogging now.

When this started, I felt very torn. It seemed like, because my friends who had been blogging the same amount of time I had were moving on, I should move on, too. But I wasn't ready. I still loved blogging, and I didn't want to quit. So over time, one by one, my little community vanished, and I was left hanging on to my blog like a person who won't move on from a dated fashion trend.

I guess now is a good time to interject that I'm not writing a good-bye speech - I'm still hanging on to my dated fashion trend - but I do feel that the passion is dying. Not because I, personally, don't want to blog anymore, but because my community is gone. It's kind of lonely.

I've never been one to read blogs with high readership. There are about three exceptions, but mostly, I stick to the small, precious gems that I've found among the masses of commercial blogs. Lately, I've been opening a near-empty feed reader. There are only about three posts that come through each day because most of the blogs I'm subscribed to are building up dust.

Now I'm left contemplating the future of my blog. Will the day come when I walk away and feel good about it? Or will I continue to hold on to my high-waisted Girbauds because they're due to be cool again any minute now?

I guess I'll just take it as it comes.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012




"I think I can, I think I can!"

(And just like that, no more training wheels!)

Monday, May 21, 2012

The Good Old Summertime

So... I strongly dislike summer.

I don't like swimming.

I don't like shorts or capris.

I don't like short sleeves.

I don't like heat or direct sunlight.

I don't like getting into a hot car or having to force my children into hot car seats.

I don't like budgeting for sunscreen.

I don't like wearing sunscreen.

I don't like putting sunscreen on my kids.

I don't like sweat.

I don't like teenagers roaming the streets all night.

I don't like to wear my hair up.

I don't like long hours of daylight.

I don't like seeing people worship the sun while I cower in the shade knowing that they will never get skin cancer, but I will.

I don't like the increase in crime.

Pretty much the only things that make summer tolerable are my garden, not having to wear coats, and being able to go longer than three days without a sick kid.

Other than that, summer is not my thing. When the weather turns consistently hot (about mid-June), I experience nausea for about six weeks. No joke; summer literally makes me sick! I'm also very prone to summer depression, so while the rest of society is out living life in the sun, I'm at home crying on my couch.

This year, I'm particularly worried about summer because, in addition to the normal inconveniences of the season, I'm also pregnant. Having lived through two summer pregnancies already, I'm all the more terrified of what's to come.

(Might I add that I made every attempt possible, two years in a row, to have a winter pregnancy followed by a spring birth? I'm not sure why God and I disagree so much on when my children should be born).

The good news?

I don't have to suck in AT ALL this summer. Hello, free pass to let it all hang out!

(I enjoy this perk of pregnancy).

The bad news?

I will most likely be a total wreck until late October.

To help me get through the next few months, I've been preparing a Summer Coping Strategy. The strategy includes three outings with my kids each week (to force me out of the house): one trip to the library, one trip to the thrift store (where each kid will get 50 cents to pick a "new" toy), and one "field trip." I came up with a list of some of the fun places we'd like to visit this summer and looked up their hours and admissions. I then saved up all of the money we will need to go to those places (most of them are free or near-free, but a few are museums and can be quite pricey). This way, money will not be an issue - everything is already planned and budgeted for. I also made sure that most of our "field trips" will be in air-conditioned buildings (Wheeler Farm is one of the exceptions, but my friend Katie is always happy to meet me there at 7:00 in the morning).

I've decided to take a year off canning. All of our garden produce will be eaten, frozen, given away, or composted. If I wake up one morning and have the urge to can green beans, so be it. But I have no quota or expectations.

Most of our eating this summer will be done on disposable products. Hate me if you will. I'm just trying to survive, and right now, less dishes to wash = survival.

On days when I can't bring myself to leave the house, I plan to sit under an umbrella in the back yard reading while my kids spray each other with the hose. Hopefully, after this weekend, there will be a large sandbox in the backyard, too (with a lid - that is my demand for sandboxes, they must have a cover to keep leaves and cat poo out).

I have purchased a vast amount of craft supplies so when my kids are starting to turn into vegetables in front of the TV, I can throw pony beads and pipe cleaners at them. For Nicky, the only things better than Donkey Kong and Mario are scissors and glue sticks.

I plan to take a lot of naps and eat a lot of cereal.

Most important, I'm not going to feel guilty about anything!

Bring it on, summer!

Monday, May 14, 2012

I'm growing a fetus (and ten other facts about being pregnant)

Fact #1: We were going to go to Disneyland for Thanksgiving this year until we discovered that we're having a baby.

Fact #2: I keep thinking that my due date is November 22, but it's actually November 1. That makes me 15 weeks.

Fact #3: I probably wouldn't have taken a pregnancy test except that Old Reliable was running a little late (a common occurrence for me), and I had a dentist appointment in the morning, so I wanted to make sure I was eligible for laughing gas. After two questionable tests (i.e. lines so faint that I couldn't tell if they were real or imagined), I returned to Walmart for the third time (I was too stingy to buy a multi-pack of tests the first or second time because why would I need more than one?) and took a test in the bathroom. The lines were still very faint, but visible enough that I at least knew they were real. No laughing gas for me.

Fact #4: The third time I went to Walmart, I bought a two-pack. Now I have an extra pregnancy test, which I've been hauling around in my purse.

Fact #5: I've also been hauling around my positive test in my purse. I have a hard time throwing away positive tests because I'm afraid that that's what keeps me pregnant. I know... it makes no sense. I'm freakishly superstitious about pregnancy.

Fact #6: I've been sick, but I don't notice the pregnancy symptoms much because the self-diagnosed whooping cough dominates. Some day, if I ever recover from my coughing fits, I might be able to determine what it feels like to be pregnant.

Fact #7: We are not finding out what we're having.

Fact #8: I think it's a boy (but I always think it's a boy).

Fact #9: I hate food.

Fact #10: Every time I start to feel annoyed that the human gestation period is nine months (in other words, FOR.EV.ER) I remind myself how grateful I am that I'm not giving birth to an elephant. Twenty-two months, people! Can you imagine being pregnant for two years?

Baby Elephant

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Mothering Inevitables

When you become a mom, there are certain things you will have to experience. Things like:

Mothering Inevitable #236: Bathtub poop

Mothering Inevitable #96: Puke on the carpet

(Also see #'s 97-99: puke in the car, puke in the bed, and puke on the couch)

(And #100: puke on you)

And let's not forget #304: At least one of your kids will eat a live bug right in front of you (and probably a few hundred behind your back).

Or #471: Booger offerings

The other day, I had my first experience with Mothering Inevitable #414, which looks like this:

May 2012 003

{Comb stuck in hair}

I had to smile because I remember when I wound my bangs up in a comb around age four, and my mom had to sit me down and pull out each individual strand of hair. 

No matter what these kids put me through, I love them more than I can say, and I am so thankful to be their mom.

Happy Mothers' Day!

Saturday, May 12, 2012

My Thoughts on Mothers' Day

Last week at church, one of my fellow church ladies was rambling on about how much she dislikes Mothers' Day and Valentine's Day. It was the traditional argument:

"My family should be nice to me every day!"

"It's just a commercial holiday!"

"Card companies... bla... bla... bla..."

I used to make these same arguments, but then I realized that I don't actually hate these holidays; I just feel obligated to hate them because of societal pressure.

Don't get me wrong, there are aspects that I dislike; such as the Valentine's Day merchandise (teddy bears, silk roses, hearts... ugh!), and I really don't like going to church on Mothers' Day (I don't care to listen to people talk in sacrament meeting about how great their moms or wives are because I'm a jerk like that). But overall, I don't understand why we've been conditioned to hate Mothers' Day and Valentine's Day so much. I don't see what is so wrong about having a special day set aside to honor other people. Yes, we should be kind and loving to each other EVERY DAY, but we're not. So we kind of need these days.

My own Mothers' Day bliss has already begun. The other day Nicky gave me a flower and a big hug for an early Mothers' Day present. Then yesterday he gave me a coupon book, which I fully intend to use.

Good for one hug?

Good for one chore of your choice?

Good for breakfast in bed?

Heck, yes, kid! Heck, yes!

Sorry, world, but I don't hate this!

Monday, May 7, 2012

Whoop! Whoop!

(Not to be confused with "Woot! Woot!")

Remember how the other day I mentioned that I think Nicky, Daisy, and I all have whooping cough?

Well, I continue believing we have it.*

It all started about seven weeks ago with Nicky. He had some cold symptoms, and after about a week and a half, he started having really nasty coughing fits. Around the same time Nicky started coughing, Daisy got pink eye, so I took them both to Instacare. The doctor took a look at both kids and said, "Yeah... they don't feel good. Here's some antibiotics for the pink eye, and I'll put them both on Amoxicillin." She told me to keep them away from other people for three days, but after that, they'd be fine.

About a week later, I started coughing. In the meantime, Nicky was still having regular fits of coughing that were quite violent, so I made an appointment with a pediatrician (not our usual one since she wasn't in that day) and an appointment with a doctor for myself.

The doctor Nicky saw gave him a breathing treatment and put him on Augmentin and an inhaler. She seemed confident that he was suffering from allergies and/or asthma. My question of, "Even though I have it, too?" were brushed aside (I swear doctors only give antibiotics to shut mothers up), but I was at peace because the breathing treatment showed a positive change in the sound of his lungs and his oxygen level. The doctor told me to go ahead and keep sending Nicky to school; she was not concerned about him being contagious.

The doctor I saw was less than helpful. She said my nose was clear, my throat was clear, my lungs were clear, and my ears were clear. I was bothered by this because my lungs happened to be clear at that moment, but off and on I could feel liquid moving in my lungs when I coughed. Additionally, the doctor seemed very unconcerned when I told her that I vomit when I cough. She swabbed me for strep (which made me roll my eyes because I've never had strep in my life) and sent me home empty-handed with no diagnosis and instructions to "try drinking some honey or lemon tea."

For the next week or so, Nicky and I continued having coughing fits. The worst ones happened early in the morning - around 5:00 a.m. - or right as we went to bed with a several episodes throughout the day. I would spend about every-other morning throwing up from coughing. Nicky never vomited, but he sounded terrible during his cough attacks, and I couldn't ever shake that feeling that there was something more going on than the doctors were acknowledging. The inhaler and Augmentin did nothing for Nicky - his cough remained consistent and unchanged.

One day, Daisy woke up from her nap covered in a rash, so I called the pediatrician and was able to get her in immediately. I was relieved to get to speak to our doctor so I could mention the coughing, which Daisy seemed to be starting with as well.

The rash? No big deal. Calamine Lotion and Benadryl took care of it right away.

The cough? Well... even our pediatrician wasn't much help. She mumbled this and that "could be a virus... bla...bla...bla.." and then she gave me some Singulair for Nicky. So again I was told that it was most likely allergies or asthma.

I have this tendency to believe doctors while I'm in their offices, but then I get home and start thinking about things, and I get angry because I realize my concerns weren't addressed. After we got home, I thought Wait a minute! I know it's not allergies or asthma. Why would the three of us develop allergy symptoms in two-week increments? This is something contagious!

I was frustrated, but I had been given the "virus... bla...bla...bla..." talk, and I was willing to accept that it could be a virus that just needs to run its course.

But now, here we sit seven weeks into this, and I think we are way beyond "could be a virus... bla...bla...bla..." Nicky is still coughing, and just within the last few days it seems to be decreasing. I'm still coughing and vomiting. Daisy is coughing and occasionally vomiting as well.

Everything I read about whooping cough leads me to believe that's what we have:

  • We all started with cold symptoms and ended up with a cough that will not go away and did not begin to decrease in severity until after six weeks.
  • We all developed the illness in two-week increments.
  • Nothing relieves the cough (humidifier, lozenges, suppressants, inhalers, allergy medication, Amoxicillin, Augmentin, etc).
  • Daisy and I vomit from the coughing.
  • There are no other symptoms present with the cough after the initial cold symptoms (other than the sore throat I got last week and Daisy's rash, which I believe are unrelated).
I'm not sure why there are a million billboards, commercials, and news articles talking about how dangerous and deadly Pertussis is, but when I tell doctors I think I have it, they say, "Oh hush! You're fine."

This morning I had an appointment with my OB/GYN, so I asked him about it. Of all the doctors, I knew my OB/GYN would be the most likely to address my concerns. Even though he seemed unworried, he told me he would order a test if I wanted one for peace of mind. He said even if I do have whooping cough, I'm most likely not contagious anymore, and I can't be treated at this point (you need to be treated within three weeks). Plus, this far into it, the test could show up negative anyway. I asked him if he could assure me that I won't kill any babies, and he said, "You won't kill any babies." So I went home.

I guess I'll never know for sure.

(But it's totally whooping cough).

*You're probably wondering if we are vaccinated. We are, but it's still very possible to have it even when immunized.

Friday, May 4, 2012




It's tempting with an assignment like "growth" to post a picture of my toe wart. Fortunately for you, there are other things growing around here that are a little more interesting!

Thursday, May 3, 2012

Currently {May 2012 Edition}

Reading: The Alchemyst by Michael Scott (not to be confused with The Alchemist  by Paulo Coelho, which I read last week).

Wondering: how often I'm supposed to put Jet Dry in my dishwasher. I just put some in last week, and it's already empty. Does that mean once-a-year isn't enough?

Also, why is Melissa Gilbert still on Dancing with the Stars? 

And why is the spacing on this post so screwy?

Procrastinating: scheduling my root canal. Why, yes, this is the third month in a row I've mentioned that.

Craving: hummus. I think it's laced with an addictive substance because it's really not that good, and yet, I can't stop thinking about it. The same can be said for sushi, although it's Scotty craving sushi, not me.

Wanting: to go on vacation. I've got the itch, but we have no vacations planned (nor vacation funds reserved) for this year since we're keeping our dentists and our doctors in business instead.

Wearing: jeans, a tank top, and a yellow cardigan.

Needing: the second season of Downton Abbey (I'm currently #148 on the waiting list at the library). 

Suffering from: whooping cough. Self-diagnosed, but I kid you not! I truly think Nicky, Daisy, and I all have it. Nicky has been coughing for 6 weeks, I've been coughing for 4, and Daisy has been coughing for 2. Our doctors keep telling us we have allergies, but they're mistaken. We have PERTUSSIS!!! Google is never wrong, and neither are the billboards on the side of the freeway! 

Thankful for: the meals that my grandma and my neighbor have brought over.

Neglecting: vacuuming the smashed bread out of my family room rug. I kind of like the ants.

Loving: that our local Taco Maker is being turned into a Culver's. I see daily frozen custard runs in my future!

Excited to: read Clockwork Prince by Cassandra Clare. I just read the first one, and the teenage girl in me loved it! Don't make fun of me!

Addicted to: young adult fiction, apparently.

Struggling with: a toe wart. Gross, I know, but don't worry! It's almost gone (thank you generic brand wart remover!!!) In the meantime, I'm wearing flip-flops with large cloth flowers to cover my little companion.

Splurging on: new toilets. Two of them. Now I won't have to go plunge the toilet every time we have guests over (they aren't accustomed to our one-square-per-flush policy).