Just a bloggin'

G-mail number 11 is going to be a bit late because the Goose is under the weather. She has been running a temperature that went as high as 103 degrees and has been lethargic, extremely fussy, and just basically pissed off at the whole entire world. Out of respect for her, we chose not to get her all dolled up to pose in front of a stuffed bear for her 11 month pictures so the bear compare will have to wait a day or so. The husband took her to the doc this morning because we thought it might be an ear infection (runny nose, high temp, pulling at her left ear, inconsolable crying, not wanting to be layed down, etc...) but the ears are crystal clear and this bug just has to run its course. Poor baby. Grace is such a sweet and easy-going thing, to see her sick and so out of character is heart-wrenching to say the very least. I've spent the last couple of days holding and rocking her, nursing non-stop, and trying not to laugh in her face when she does her pathetic "I'm really ticked off so I have to scream but I'm still the sweetest thing since cheesecake" motor boat cry. By motor boat cry, I mean that... well, she sounds like a motor boat. She does this thing with her tongue when she cries out that I really can't explain but my homegirl can totally roll a Spanish "r" like nothing I have ever heard before. What makes it even funnier is that Gavin can't stand the sound so he cups his hands over his ears while the Goose wails and wails. So not only do I have senorita rolling her r's but I also have the Gavinator with his hands pressed firmly against his ears curled up in a fetal position trying to block out his oh so offensive sick sister. Just another day in our household!

My dad and grandma were in town briefly so that forced me to do some serious housework. I thought they were going to stay most of today so I took the day off of work but they left early in the morning because grandma has an "abdormal breast" and needs to go to the doctor. Right. There are two things a granddaughter never needs to hear no matter how old she is, and they are:

1. grandma has breasts
2. one of grandma's aforementioned breasts is abnormal

Gettin' old is apparently a bitch but my grandma is hanging in there... abnormal breast and all. She is a tough cookie. She was freaking out about how traveling made her constipated ALL day yesterday. Fortunately for grandma, I overheard her tell my dad that she was able to take a poop in the wee hours of the morning before we awoke from our slumber. I never felt such a bond to my father as when I heard his reply. In all his smartass glory that I have thankfully inherited, he asked her dryly why she didn't wake him up to tell him the good news?

My dad is a pretty cool guy but something he isn't hip to is blogging. He, in all his blogging unhipness, calls it "bogging" and in fact, he is so unhip to blogging that is totally unaware that such a thing called a site meter. Silly fella. See, he visited my sister before he came to visit me and as it turns out, unbeknownst to him, I knew exactly what he was doing at my sister's house on May 20, 2006, from 7:57-8:54 pm. Those crazy cats were hanging out and doing what probably every family does when they get together after having not seen each other for 6 months or so- reading another family member's blog. I'm totally cool with family reading my blog because I'm careful not to post anything here that I wouldn't say to their face and in all honestly, aside from the one person I mentioned previously, I really like my family and I have nothing negative to say about them. Also, I'm pretty much an open book about my life and I don't have anything to hide. If being unhappy about the fact I have to work fulll time outside the home and be away from my kiddos shocks you then I don't know where you have been for the past two and a half years every time I have opened my mouth. If my husband being stressed out by staying at home with two kids and working full time comes as a shock, then perhaps you need to ask him how he is doing a little more often. If you haven't heard the words "boobs" and "sleep" come out of my mouth a half a million times in the past 11 months then maybe you don't spend enough time with me because my baby loves boobs and until recently, she loved not letting me sleep. And if being a mom to a toddler with a speech delay and sensory integration dysfunction and a baby who lives for the boobies that aren't there half the day and a wife to husband who is totally awesome but works way to hard means I need to have a little creative outlet on this thing I like to call "My Blog" and it comes as a surprise to you, then maybe you just aren't listenting.

I love my life. I love my kids. I love my husband. I love my family (with the one exception noted). I'm just me. I was me for 26 years before I met my husband, 27 years before I met my son, and 29 years before I met my daughter. I like to write about things that were, things that are, and things that will be. More importantly, I like to read what others write (you have checked out my links of interest, haven't you?) and if maybe I can do for someone what the people on the other end of those links have done for me, then I love that, too.