Things that I did while I was sick

So, if you haven't been following me on my fanpage, you're probably wondering where the heck I've been lately.  Well, I was sick.  Sick like you wouldn't believe.  Sick, then thinking I'm better, than sicker than before, then, if it was even possible, even more sick.  I think I had man-flu, peeps.  It was pretty bad.  I nearly started picking out coffins - but then remembered that as a Muslim, I don't get a coffin, just a muslin cloth...oh well...you get the point, I was in a bad place. While in this delirium of illness, I did some pretty remarkable things:

I continued working.   I shivered through my days and survived on hot tea and/or soup.

I didn't go grocery shopping at all so by the end of the week, I was offering my children onion slices and crackers for a snack.  The cupboards were pretty bare.

The reason that I didn't have snack-type foods was because during my fever induced dementia, I allowed my children to eat an entire box of Oreo cookies for supper.  Strangely enough, they never complained.

I embarrassed myself in the land of Facebook.  I have an issue with people who use homonyms incorrectly -- homonyms, for those who don't know, are words that sound the same but are spelled differently (to/too/two or your/you're etc).  I've been known to make this mistake myself a time or two, but I knew I was really ill when I kept making these mistakes over the last week.  The worst was a friend who posted on my wall asking if I'd accept a package of photos that FedEx would be delivering to my house since she's moved.  My reply was something like "Sure, if I can take a peak." -- what I meant to say was peek (as in look), not peak (as in a mountain top) or pique (as in interest).  When she called me on it and wrote a response to it using all three words (much as I would have done to someone else had I not been ill) it took me a good 1/2 hour to figure out what she was talking about.

But, the icing on the cake-of-craziness is this:  My instructor sent out a notice that we'd be having an audio class.  One of the other students in the class, a fellow keener like me, said that she couldn't make it and asked me (on the class discussion board) if I'd ask good questions in her absence....my reply was something like "absolutely...but why can't you make it? There are no excuses for missing it..." (which wasn't so bad...but then I went on.  You won't believe what I said for all the class/instructors to see...it was "You can take the keener out of the class, but you can't shut her up!"

Yeah.

I said that.

In my defense, it was really funny in my own head.  In my state of fevered hallucination, this was perhaps the most witty and hilarious statement of my life.  I remember writing it out, reading it over, giggling groggily to myself and hitting "post."

It wasn't until later that night that I had a nightmare about it.  Horrible dreams with my instructor wagging her finger at me and the other students shaking their heads in disappointment.  I woke up in a sweat (yeah, I was sick, but still, it wasn't cool).  I re-read that post and nearly died.  Oh, the shame!!

However, I think that I might just be on the mend.  I'm still rather hoarse and husky sounding, and my nose is still alternating between stuffed and dripping like a sieve.  But my brain no longer feels as though I'm in a perpetual fog.  Yay for tiny miracles.

I'm Alive!!!

Life is so ironic.  I wrote this yesterday, saved it to prepare my amazingly healthy supper of Mr. Noodles, and then dealt with my sick child all night long.  Now...I'm sick.  Sick, sick, sick.  Rather fitting considering the next sentence...

Yes, you may have thought that I'd gotten hit by a truck, or with some nasty flu bug or even something more drastic - like finding a life.  Sad fact is that I used up the majority of last week doing school work (which, Ironically, I'm ignoring now) to prepare for our Holiday that we just had (Eid-al-Adha - although I have an issue with Wikipedia calling it the Holiday of Killing -- how horrible!  The rest of the article is pretty good though).   It was a great few days spent with family and friends, and the first time in a long time that I've actually felt in a "holiday" type of spirit...even though I'm PMSing -- go figure!

But, all that holiday spirit put a major damper in my cleaning schedule.  I've gotten a couple hundred new followers, so I'll just review this quickly with you.  I have a general cleaning schedule (for vacuuming/bathrooms/etc) and I handle nasty chores like that by doing a little bit each day.  But laundry -- the very bane of my existence has it's own special routine.  Sometimes, kind hearted people come and try to help me out and it ends up badly...I shouldn't get so upset, but I do.  If I'm ever sick and you wanna help me out -- wash the floors, clean the toilet -- anything but mess with my laundry!

The Laundry Schedule

                                             Monday = blue clothes and the boys' bed sheets
                                             Tuesday = black/grey clothes + ironing if I have any
                                             Wednesday = white clothes and my bed sheets

                                             Thursday = yellow/green/brown clothing

                                             Friday = red/pink clothing and daughter's bed sheets

                                             Saturday = jeans

                                             Sunday = towels

I follow this schedule religiously.  It does a lot for me.  First - it breaks down the HUGE amount of laundry that 5 people can make (used to be 6 before stepson left).  Second - it keeps the colors of my clothing more true.  By washing my teal shirt with my blue clothing it stays a nice teal shade rather than getting dulled down by doing the traditional lights or darks.  Third - my kids as young as two or three can help, and personally, I think that teaching responsibility and helping others at a young age is a good thing.  Not everyone agrees with that, but you know - my house, my rules, right??

Anyhow -- I 've got enough laundry piled up in my bedroom right now to make a grown man weep.  It's a little terrifying.  I don't understand how we wear so many clothes!  Oh well -- such is life.

Also -- homework...got to get on that, I've been sitting here at my computer since nap time started (an hour ago) and still have not a bit of it started.  Things keep popping up.  Deliveries from my favourite online store, fabulous pictures put up on facebook...uh...the laundry bell buzzing telling me it's time to fold....You know -- the "important" stuff...

Dear Universe, What have I done? - with updates

Today was one of those days where you just feel like Karma is out to get you.  Ever have one of those?  I should have seen it coming, but didn't.

• First, toddler freaks out because he didn't get to pee in the toilet before his brother.  I don't understand it either, so don't ask.
• Then, middle child freaks out because I wouldn't let him take the Nintendo to school.
• Then, daughter freaks out because she can't do her hair or get the toothpaste out of the tube.
• Hubby complains about his sandwiches lately (apparently, the meat is "stringy")
• Chosen children think my snack is "gross" (cheese, crackers and dill pickles, what's the issue with that?)
• Chosen toddler and my toddler quickly resume their toddler take downs after 3 days apart.
• Chosen child doesn't eat lunch.
• Chosen toddler has a nightmare at nap time and spends the next hour whimpering and shaking on my lap (poor guy!)
• I spilled my tea all over my school work.  No ink to reprint.
• 2 of 3 children arrive home from school.  This is an issue, as there is one missing.  How did the other 2 not notice this fact?
• 4 children and I don our coats/hats/shoes/mitts and dash to the school as I am in a panic on the phone as to the whereabouts of my lost daughter.
• She's found, in the office, crying because she thinks she lost her brother and chosen sister.
• We walk back...with my hefting two 30+ pound  toddlers on each hip.
• Luckily, I remembered to set my alarm.  Unluckily, I forgot to lock the back door which my son opened in his bid to get into the house first.  I was still 1/2 block away.
• Alarm goes off.  Son hides in his room.
• My new neighbors must think I'm crazy as I set down the toddlers to run to my house which has a blaring alarm.
• My new neighbor is surely convinced that we are all crazy as my toddler runs by and says, "Hi! My butt hurts. I need a band-aid on it."
• My new neighbor is even more convinced of my poor state of mental health as my chosen toddler shouts, "Oooh! Pretty Back Boobies mommy Hedr!!"
• Finally in the house, the next issue happens when chosen toddler picks up his juice cup and promptly spills cold juice down the front of his body - shirt, pants and socks are soaked.
• The cold juice so startles him that he falls off of the chair.
• The fall shocked him, and he cries loudly.
• At this time, daycare mom shows up to pick up her daughter.
• Eventually, child, juice and table/floor are cleaned up.  But there are no spare clothes for him.  I have to find some that fit - and the only ones have my local hockey team on them.  Dad hates the local hockey team, but that's okay, because dad rarely comes at pick up time.
• Just got a message that dad is coming to pick up.

Can it be bed time yet??

UPDATE

• wrote a message on a friend's Facebook wall and everyone thought I essentially called her fat & ugly (okay, they were just joking, but still -- what was with that message?  THINK before posting, Hethr!!
• toddler woke up in the middle of the night with a night mare.
• I brought him into bed with me.
• He peed on me and my freshly cleaned sheets.

Another baby?

So, last night, for some unfathomable reason, I got the sudden urge to be pregnant.  The big, full tummy with that little baby squirming around inside...the anticipation...the overwhelming loveliness that I feel as a pregnant woman.  I'm not one of those "nasty" preggos (as my friend likes to call herself) - I thoroughly enjoy pregnancy in all of it's stages --- but I have to admit, I have relatively easy pregnancies and deliveries.  Rather than morning sickness, I get food aversions (eg, I cannot eat or smell eggs cooking, a gift from my daughter, or chew gum without gaging, a gift from my middle son, and have never really gotten back that love I once had for coffee...a gift from my littlest one).  I don't tend to get terribly bloated.  I don't get back pains or swollen feet or moodiness.   I am just a round, happy, ball of motherhood creating life.  I love it.

I also can't complain about my labours.  The longest of which was 2 1/2 hours....once the doc broke my water, that baby was outta there!  In fact, when I had my last, my doc was so concerned about my tendency to deliver quickly that I was admitted to the hospital a full week early and induced.  In 15 minutes, I went from 5cm dilation to delivery.  The doc missed it.  The on call doc almost missed it and ended up catching Adam with the bed pad rather than gloves because there was no time to don them.

My sweet little Terror the day after he was born.

I like the peaceful solitude of breast feeding, I love the nuzzling and snuggling.  I love, love, LOVE the smell of a new baby. I love the coos and smiles and stare of amazement.  I love watching how much they change from day to day.

Yup...I'm one of those.


All that aside though i don't know what put this urge into my brain.  Somehow, a little seed was planted and it started to grow.

Thankfully, it was thoroughly uprooted and stomped on for good measure this morning.

• Toddler wakes up and is in a freaking out, all out crying fit because...he wanted to pee in the toilet before his brother.  Yeah.
• Middle son has a freaking out, almost-7-year-old version of a toddler tantrum because ... I wouldn't let him take his game boy to school.
• Daughter has a fit because she can't do anything with her hair, and "I can't get the toothpaste out of the tube!!!" <-- can you tell she's almost a teen??
• I found out today that my old high school pal is carrying twins!  Yikes!  Twins!!  I used to always want twins, but I just don't know how mothers of multiples do it.  Kudo's to all of you.  You. Amaze. Me.

Nah -- I think I'll pass on the whole "let's have another baby" gig.  I'll just take care of everyone else's.

someone tried to break in to my house last night

They tried...my alarm went off.  They failed.  We never saw them, and actually, at 11 at night after being woken up, hubby and I had convinced ourselves that it was actually just a faulty sensor -- even when the guy came through on the two-way voice thing, hubby said "the window's not even open, I don't know why it went off"

It probably took me a good 3 hours to fall asleep after that, but sleep eventually came.  I waited until the kids left to school and then set about tinkering with the sensors.  Opening and closing doors and windows...testing them...arming and disarming the system -- seeing if there was a fault somewhere.

Then, the brilliant idea came to me to actually look OUTSIDE of my house at the window where the sensor tripped.  There, right before my eyes, I see the evidence of what seems to be someone who tried to break in.  There are little bitty rocks from the siding of my house scattered on my deck, my windows (which are OLD style, 1970 sliders) -- the outer pane was not on track....something that I'm ALWAYS sure of because of the God-awful noise that is produced from opening it like that!

That - combined with the fact that the alarm went off was enough to convince me....we stopped a burglar in his tracks.  Woot woot!!

This is going to now sound like an advertisement for my security company, and I guess, in a way it is.  For the longest time, I'd been asking hubby for an alarm.   We certainly don't live in a dangerous neighborhood, nor do we live in a posh place.  It's pretty average. Still -- there are more and more break ins, and a lot of them are in the garages which in our neighborhood is not attached.  Someone could do this in the day while I'm home and I wouldn't even know.  Our system covers our garage, house, windows, and fire.  There's even an option to allow it to control the temperature (turning your lights, furnace or A/C on or off at certain times).  I can access it all through my smart phone.  There is live, 2 way voice....it is fan-friggen-tastic.  My husband has been complaining for months about "the alarm we don't need" (yet, it was he who talked to the guy and signed the contract!) -- and I feel totally vindicated for this.

Thank GOD for APX.  Love the system, loved the sales-rep, love the on-going great service that we get from them.

a gift

Inspired by friendship and motivated by my grilled cheese debacle - my friend Anniryn of Andirun Designs made this pic for me.  I love it and cannot thank her enough -- I want to print it on a huge canvas and hang it on my kitchen wall...or maybe the entrance way -- to warn people as soon as they come in not to mess with me...

p.s. -- it is really freaky how much this looks like me!

The Great Grilled Cheese Smackdown.

I've been moody lately.  Something was bugging me.  I couldn't quite figure it out, but there was just that nagging feeling of impending doom around me.  It's been hanging around all weekend.

Well - today it finally started to show up.

First - let's go over my Halloween night.

• Hubby buys way too many chocolates.  I am in charge of sitting by the door passing them out.  I don't mind this at all, and I snuck a few M&M peanuts in while I waited.
• We had a whopping 20 kids.  If that.  What a let down.  I now have way too many chocolates sitting in my house screaming my name and begging me to eat them.  I want to lose some weight.  Boo on you, chocolate.
• Sir Pukes-A-Lot is still sick and hacking up a storm.
• I gave him some cough syrup before bed which he proceeded to puke back up.  I was not surprised.

At 2:32 in the morning the following happens:
*cough, cough, cough* ... *hack* .... *cough, cough, cough*
     Me: (tapping hubby on the shoulder) will you go give him some medicine?
     Hubby: No! You do it!
     Me: (now royally ticked) -- Isaac! Get up and take some medicine.

*me, acting like a baby and stomping about - then coming back to bed and flopping around in anger. Hubby has zero reaction, he's out cold*

At 9 in the morning - hubby remembers nothing...but I do.

Fast forward to this afternoon.  I'm making my famous lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches (cut into dino shapes) and tomato soup.  Yum.  Hubby asks for one.

     Me: Great - I cut this one wrong. (I'd forgotten to use my sandwich shape cutter)
     Hubby: It's burnt.
     Me: *gasp* it is not!!
     Hubby:  Yes, it's burnt.  Can you make me another one?
     Me:  Why yes...I'll get right on that, Love of my life.


what?  You don't believe that??  Okay, okay...here's the truth:

     Hubby:  Yes, it is so burnt.  Can you make me anther one?
     Me: *sporadic waving of spatula throughout*  No!  Are you nuts?  Do you think I can just make sandwiches to everyone's pleasure around here?  Do you know how long I'd be in the kitchen for?  Listen, in this house you get what you get and if you don't like it you eat it any way!
     Hubby:  *????*
     Me:  You heard me!  You're gonna eat your sandwich and like it!
     Hubby: *puts his plate on the counter and walks out*
     Me: Hey -- where are you going??  Big Baby!

Yeah.  Real mature, huh?

Now I have to eat crow pie, call him up, tell him I'm sorry for over reacting.  I hate that.

For the record - the sandwich was well toasted, not burned.