Crazy is normal for me

Lots of stuff floating around in my head recently - some of those items, in no particular order:

1. A House of Our Own: we put an offer on a house. Offer was accepted. Loan application well on its way. Closing date set.
OhgawdIfeellikeI'mgoingtovomit

2. My cousin's send-off party is Saturday. He's going to join the ranks of the United States Marine Corps. Military service is common in our family, but hasn't come up in our generation. He's the first. My little cousin...well, not so little anymore. I don't think my brain can process this properly. He's old enough? Seriously?! It seems like just yesterday we were watching Barney together.
Againwiththevommyfeeling


Here he is with his sister in '96 or so. I'd show you a pic of him now, but he'd probably stop speaking to me if he knew I posted it on my blog. So, I'm using my favorite one of them as kids. Muhahahaha!

3. I had a very rare snowball of anxiety clobber me a couple weeks ago that I couldn't shake before bed (oddly, not related to either of the items mentioned above).

Lesstalkylessvommyplease

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I have this weird thing going on with a few of my toes. After ruling out poor shoe choice and bug bites, I turned to my trusty intarwebz to see what this could be. It left me with more questions than answers. ShankRabbit is convinced I have "the gout" (said in a very crotchety, old-man voice). Thanks for making me feel SO much younger, dear husband.

I'm convinced my second toes are protesting any and all shoes. They are the longest of the bunch - why do they have to be scrunched while the other toes get ample space to move around? Equal rights for ALL TOES!

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Wow. I started this post talking about my moments of crazy and end with anthropomorphizing my toes.

This would be a good place to stop before any more crazy comes out.

(Let's hope the next month brings better topics of discussion)

I get it...I'm not a young'un anymore

I went out last night. Normally, not something I would consider notable...except when I go out in Chicago. At 9:30pm. And lose track of time. And have to drive home afterward.

I'm exhausted, but surprisingly alert. I hope to have a big freakin' nap post up later detailing the events of last night.

Oh, in addition to my obvious sleep deprivation, Peanut has a doctor's appointment today and will receive her 15 month shots (shot? Shots? I'm not sure how many. All I know is that MMR is on the list. Fun times). For the first time in her life, daddy won't be there to hold her down hold her hand while she gets her shots. That part will be played by the understudy - me.

And here we go...

It's what you say...

I was lying in bed, wide awake, listening to the hacking sounds of my husband. I had several thoughts cross my mind -

It's been well over a week and this cough isn't getting any better. I know he's a stubborn butthead and thinks his immune system will work this one out, but it's taking too long. It's 5am and I want to go back to sleep. Should I say something? He's due for a physical anyway. It's really important I word what I say in just the * right * way. Saying "GO TO THE DOCTOR ALREADY!" might come off as harsh. Hmm...

I mulled over my exact words for at least 15 minutes (remember, it's 5am. I'm not too bright this early in the morning).

I lean over and gently rub his back. Then I say, "Babe, I love you..."

((awww))

"...but your coughing is annoying. Please go to the doctor."


Eh? Pretty good, huh?


Moral of the story: If you say something nice, throwing a "but" in the sentence negates the niceness. Or so I'm told.
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This led to him feeling guilty for being sick and acting snarky and slightly defensive this morning. Hmm...wonder why.
Though, he did agree to go to the doctor...just to shut me up.

Anyone been in the same boat?

I am about to talk about my child and poo. If you'd rather not read about it, then skip over this post. Warning has been issued.


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Peanut is super-stopped up (like, when changing her diaper I can actually see the poo ready to come out...it's just not moving). With the introduction of cow's milk a week or so ago, this is something to be expected...but not to this extent. I've gotten several ideas on what to do from my pediatrician's office (their staff is absolutely amazing, by the way), but it's heart-wrenching to see her shake and cry in pain when she tries to poo...with no end result.

It's no surprise that she is all out of sorts right now.

We have a list of things to try, so I'm not short of ideas (e.g. watering down her milk, eliminating all other dairy products, up the fiber, straight prune juice in addition to her usual pureed prune intake, pedialax...), I just want to know who else can sympathize. I could really use the "hey, I've been there" comments right now.

My head is going to explode...

Last night, I was laying lying horizontally positioned on our kitchen floor. Peanut was playing peek-a-boo with my bellybutton and smacking me in excitement every time it 'surprised' her. ShankRabbit, in the middle of making dinner, looks over and says, "why do you look so sad?" I answer, "I'm not sad...just...too much." So, to prevent my head from exploding (and hoping that I can once again create full sentences when talking), let's explore the list:

1. My (physical) health - had to add that clarification, because we all know my mental state is slightly skewed most of the time. Not much to tell other than everything is probably fine, but the doctors don't know. A lot of fuzzy answers...and as Call Me Cate mentioned, "better to have fuzzy answers than fuzzy meat. Just saying." I couldn't agree more.

2. My fosterdad is visiting me Friday morning. This is the first time he'll see our house and meet Peanut (skipping over lots of details about why this is just happening in the interest of space and time). After The Great Furniture Move of 2009 on Tuesday, I have some major cleaning to do. Crap.

3. We are more than likely going to sell one of our cars and become a one vehicle family. I am a little excited about this (saving money - what a concept!, driving ShankRabbit to work, etc.), but I have an unnatural attachment to SR's car. Seriously. I cried the other night just thinking about it (If you're thinking, "who cries over a car?!" Just remember my warning about the month of April).

4. My checking account is anorexic.

5. I agreed to write an article about myself for our church's newsletter. They spotlight a volunteer in every issue. I just got a "friendly reminder" email yesterday saying it's due today.
The stream of words that came out of my mouth after reading that were not church appropriate.
Let me save you all the trouble and scold myself -
"geez oh Pete, Isabella, what were you thinking?! You hate writing, especially about yourself, and you agreed to write an article? Are you high?!"

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I'm sure I have more of these swimming around in my head, but right now I'm plagued with writing something more interesting than "Jennifer is" on this newsletter article.