My Turn With THE DISC INCIDENT

(picture - NOT MY KID)
Ok so the exersaucer, play disc, etc thing is the best invention ever for babies ever. All of our kids have had them. The girl's sits in between our his an hers computers so she is right with us, especially in the evening when we are online geeking out.
On Saturday, I was logged in and yacking with my friend Gogo. The girl was beside me and bouncing and babbling loudly.

She starts rocking a bit, kind of - frantically, and is getting louder.

I turned and talked to her, and kissed her and tickled her. She giggled and bounced around some more, babbling more and calling me DA.

As I'm IMing I notice, she's really wiggling and bouncing and rocking and her babbling is getting fussy. Which is weird because she's eaten recently. She shouldn't be upset. I sing to her a little and she's ok but then she's not. In that way that babies are ok and then they are really not ok.

Now she's crying so I reach over to pick her up.

And her shirt is stuck to her back.

Pasted there, with poop.

She is literally slathered with what has to be her WEIGHT in poop from her neck down to her ankles. It's everywhere. All that bouncing has propelled it both up and down OUT Of her diaper with as much force as she could muster.

This would be more a tragedy except - my husband has already had this happen, THREE TIMES. Once for each boy. I was always at work, and would hear the tale of how they created a poop explosion while sitting in their disc.

It's a hell of a lot funnier when you aren't the one choosing to throw away the tiny pink clothes, let me tell you.

My Turn With THE DISC INCIDENT

(picture - NOT MY KID)
Ok so the exersaucer, play disc, etc thing is the best invention ever for babies ever. All of our kids have had them. The girl's sits in between our his an hers computers so she is right with us, especially in the evening when we are online geeking out.
On Saturday, I was logged in and yacking with my friend Gogo. The girl was beside me and bouncing and babbling loudly.

She starts rocking a bit, kind of - frantically, and is getting louder.

I turned and talked to her, and kissed her and tickled her. She giggled and bounced around some more, babbling more and calling me DA.

As I'm IMing I notice, she's really wiggling and bouncing and rocking and her babbling is getting fussy. Which is weird because she's eaten recently. She shouldn't be upset. I sing to her a little and she's ok but then she's not. In that way that babies are ok and then they are really not ok.

Now she's crying so I reach over to pick her up.

And her shirt is stuck to her back.

Pasted there, with poop.

She is literally slathered with what has to be her WEIGHT in poop from her neck down to her ankles. It's everywhere. All that bouncing has propelled it both up and down OUT Of her diaper with as much force as she could muster.

This would be more a tragedy except - my husband has already had this happen, THREE TIMES. Once for each boy. I was always at work, and would hear the tale of how they created a poop explosion while sitting in their disc.

It's a hell of a lot funnier when you aren't the one choosing to throw away the tiny pink clothes, let me tell you.

Another Beautiful Day

I shot that on my break today. It's gorgeous here, so quiet and relaxing. Plus the hotel is full of lots of cool nicknacks. Like this...

And now, I'm going to go do something fun! So I'm off!
Gidge Blogger.............out!

Another Beautiful Day

I shot that on my break today. It's gorgeous here, so quiet and relaxing. Plus the hotel is full of lots of cool nicknacks. Like this...

And now, I'm going to go do something fun! So I'm off!
Gidge Blogger.............out!

My View

Beautiful View from my room. :)

My View

Beautiful View from my room. :)

Watching Rollerball In Silence

Ok I'm not sure I'm watching ROLLERBALL. Because, I'm in a hotel. A resort exactly. A Resort on a lake, to be exact. I'm watching some sort of terrible movie because I have a very strict policy of watching whatever crap is on cable when I am in hotel rooms. Simply for the joy of watching sex, violence and swearing without my children around.

So, I'm thinking this is rollerball. They've been killing people. And playing some game they CALL Rollerball. Come to think of it, let me google it.

Yes I am watching Rollerball and apparently Jean Reno will just make any movie he can to get paid now which is sad, because I thought he used to be a for-real actor.

So here I am. In a hotel room alone. My roommate isn't going to be here until tomorrow so then I'm sort of........

just alone.

My house is chaos. It's loud. It's crazy and noise and messy and....it's full of the people I love. They aren't here.

God I hope something better than ROLLERBALL is on next.

I'm away.

I've been gone for less than three hours, and I already miss the chaos.

Plus, I hate not being able to rewind the TV. Who watches TV like this now?

Conference tomorrow. I'll let you know how it is, once I know myself.

Till then, I'm gonna settle into bed and see what is on next. Probably LAMBADA...

Watching Rollerball In Silence

Ok I'm not sure I'm watching ROLLERBALL. Because, I'm in a hotel. A resort exactly. A Resort on a lake, to be exact. I'm watching some sort of terrible movie because I have a very strict policy of watching whatever crap is on cable when I am in hotel rooms. Simply for the joy of watching sex, violence and swearing without my children around.

So, I'm thinking this is rollerball. They've been killing people. And playing some game they CALL Rollerball. Come to think of it, let me google it.

Yes I am watching Rollerball and apparently Jean Reno will just make any movie he can to get paid now which is sad, because I thought he used to be a for-real actor.

So here I am. In a hotel room alone. My roommate isn't going to be here until tomorrow so then I'm sort of........

just alone.

My house is chaos. It's loud. It's crazy and noise and messy and....it's full of the people I love. They aren't here.

God I hope something better than ROLLERBALL is on next.

I'm away.

I've been gone for less than three hours, and I already miss the chaos.

Plus, I hate not being able to rewind the TV. Who watches TV like this now?

Conference tomorrow. I'll let you know how it is, once I know myself.

Till then, I'm gonna settle into bed and see what is on next. Probably LAMBADA...

Zombie Paradigm Shift

My oldest son says "Mom I've figured out the solution to the Zombie problem."

I wasn't aware we actually had a Zombie problem. Honestly, I wasn't aware ANYONE had a Zombie problem. But apparently this is something he'd been considering at length.

"It's easy," he informs me. "You just don't live where there are any cemeteries."

San Francisco......here we come. I figured all bodies buried pre 1937 are all disintegrated now - right?

Zombie Paradigm Shift

My oldest son says "Mom I've figured out the solution to the Zombie problem."

I wasn't aware we actually had a Zombie problem. Honestly, I wasn't aware ANYONE had a Zombie problem. But apparently this is something he'd been considering at length.

"It's easy," he informs me. "You just don't live where there are any cemeteries."

San Francisco......here we come. I figured all bodies buried pre 1937 are all disintegrated now - right?

Mornings Are Hectic

I was thinking this morning that there is a good reason our kids eat breakfast at school every week day and I would kiss the school system for it if that weren't frowned on.

It starts with rolling downstairs will three of four kids.

The baby goes into her high chair where she sits and plays with a high chair toy thingy.

I make her a quick bottle of formula and give it to her and go back to the kitchen to fill dinosaur water cups with - yes WATER and grab a couple of yogurts for the twins.

I give those to them and tell them to sit down.

Then I eyeball the coffee pot and keep moving.

Baby food - bananas and apples.

We've got a new food warmer for baby food. Fill the water to A then fill the water to B, unscrew the lid's jar and put the food in and turn ON - ok that seems to be working.

Coffee pot. It's staring at me.

I grab Charlie's enzyme for his autism study, and then the bread and throw four pieces of toast in the toaster. I chop up some sausages and toss them in the microwave. At this point the oldest boy appears from upstairs and starts rummaging in the fridge. He hands me a box of frozen minipancakes and tells me he wants those.

He also informs me that his creature in the video game SPORE has poison dart shooting MOOBS.

That seems fairly awesome to me.

The coffee post wants to know why I am ignoring it. I'm NOT I'm just bizzy I'll get to you.

I pour juice in cups and add the enzyme to Charlie's juice and

take it to them.

I pop the mini pancakes into the microwave and tell the oldest boy to get some water to drink.

At that point I realize I AM thirsty and grab a Coke glass out of the cabinet - and then POUR orange pineapple juice in it.

It looks so wrong, I can't even tell you. Please don't tell anyone from Atlanta I put juice in a Coke glass.

I take the twins their sausage and toast with some oranges - and realize Charlie has switched cups and drank all of MILES juice. I fill the cup back up and switch them.

Pancakes are done.

Baby food is done.

Butter pancakes, hand mahew and regular syrup to the oldest boy.

Grab baby food and mix it in with rice cereal and stir up up.

DAMN I forgot a cup of water for the baby.

Make a cup of water for the baby.

Take it all in the dining room.

And the twins have drank my juice as well as their own.

The coffee pot is still looking at me.

It's at this point that Charlie comes over, looks at me and says "Want brownie."

I am now trying to remember if I ever even made coffee. Yes, yes I did.

But I can't remember if it was good.

Now, two good things.

1. When you have a girl - you get to buy little shoes like THIS.

Which are freaking awesome.

And this isn't the best vid in the world but it's a quickie I snapped of my big girl doing one of her favorite games - PATTICAKE!

Mornings Are Hectic

I was thinking this morning that there is a good reason our kids eat breakfast at school every week day and I would kiss the school system for it if that weren't frowned on.

It starts with rolling downstairs will three of four kids.

The baby goes into her high chair where she sits and plays with a high chair toy thingy.

I make her a quick bottle of formula and give it to her and go back to the kitchen to fill dinosaur water cups with - yes WATER and grab a couple of yogurts for the twins.

I give those to them and tell them to sit down.

Then I eyeball the coffee pot and keep moving.

Baby food - bananas and apples.

We've got a new food warmer for baby food. Fill the water to A then fill the water to B, unscrew the lid's jar and put the food in and turn ON - ok that seems to be working.

Coffee pot. It's staring at me.

I grab Charlie's enzyme for his autism study, and then the bread and throw four pieces of toast in the toaster. I chop up some sausages and toss them in the microwave. At this point the oldest boy appears from upstairs and starts rummaging in the fridge. He hands me a box of frozen minipancakes and tells me he wants those.

He also informs me that his creature in the video game SPORE has poison dart shooting MOOBS.

That seems fairly awesome to me.

The coffee post wants to know why I am ignoring it. I'm NOT I'm just bizzy I'll get to you.

I pour juice in cups and add the enzyme to Charlie's juice and

take it to them.

I pop the mini pancakes into the microwave and tell the oldest boy to get some water to drink.

At that point I realize I AM thirsty and grab a Coke glass out of the cabinet - and then POUR orange pineapple juice in it.

It looks so wrong, I can't even tell you. Please don't tell anyone from Atlanta I put juice in a Coke glass.

I take the twins their sausage and toast with some oranges - and realize Charlie has switched cups and drank all of MILES juice. I fill the cup back up and switch them.

Pancakes are done.

Baby food is done.

Butter pancakes, hand mahew and regular syrup to the oldest boy.

Grab baby food and mix it in with rice cereal and stir up up.

DAMN I forgot a cup of water for the baby.

Make a cup of water for the baby.

Take it all in the dining room.

And the twins have drank my juice as well as their own.

The coffee pot is still looking at me.

It's at this point that Charlie comes over, looks at me and says "Want brownie."

I am now trying to remember if I ever even made coffee. Yes, yes I did.

But I can't remember if it was good.

Now, two good things.

1. When you have a girl - you get to buy little shoes like THIS.

Which are freaking awesome.

And this isn't the best vid in the world but it's a quickie I snapped of my big girl doing one of her favorite games - PATTICAKE!

When You Are In Love With Your Family....

...Valentine's Day is spent at Chuck E Cheese where there is much joy to be had, from the look of it.

I'd say it was annoying, because I think thats the more accepted response among parents but - I had a WONDERFUL time. I love watching them get excited and play games and run around like crazy. They LOVED it.
And yes I'm letting the oldest boy play a shooting game. Sigh. I also played a zombie shooting game with him that we ROCKED at. I give up. Boys like to shoot stuff. He can't have a REAL gun. But an occasional FPS isn't gonna KILL anyone or make him a murderer. Plus, shooting zombies barely counts.

Zombie bastards, DIE!

Back at the house it was presents and chocolates to everyone's delight.

One of the best parts of my day though, was Miles learning to say something new. He said it right when we got there so before we left, I shot a quick vid of him......just a quickie - you can hear me telling him what I want to hear.

When You Are In Love With Your Family....

...Valentine's Day is spent at Chuck E Cheese where there is much joy to be had, from the look of it.

I'd say it was annoying, because I think thats the more accepted response among parents but - I had a WONDERFUL time. I love watching them get excited and play games and run around like crazy. They LOVED it.
And yes I'm letting the oldest boy play a shooting game. Sigh. I also played a zombie shooting game with him that we ROCKED at. I give up. Boys like to shoot stuff. He can't have a REAL gun. But an occasional FPS isn't gonna KILL anyone or make him a murderer. Plus, shooting zombies barely counts.

Zombie bastards, DIE!

Back at the house it was presents and chocolates to everyone's delight.

One of the best parts of my day though, was Miles learning to say something new. He said it right when we got there so before we left, I shot a quick vid of him......just a quickie - you can hear me telling him what I want to hear.

You HAVE To Try

So my entire parenting ethos of never letting my kids watch violence and crap on TV has completely died on the vine. I did pretty well for about six years, and then my oldest boy wanted to watch PRIMEVAL on the BBC and it's been all down here from there. I just let more and more in.

Such as.....recently.......

2012.

Yes that 2012. Sigh I let him watch it, and not only did he watch it he watched it AGAIN in High Def when we got the new TV.

It's ok. Fairly silly but meh. But I digress.

We're watching this scene, classic movie situation where a plane is teetering on the edge of a cliff and just barely nudged over - and the pilot does the quick PHEW because he thinks everything is ok...and then WOOOPS the plane slides over and he dies a fiery death.

The boy looks at me and says,"Mom WHY did he just sit there?"

And that is when I start talking."He should've jumped up and run to the back of the plane and hopped out one of the emergency exits. He could've jumped out long before the plane got to the cliff as he really wasn't FLYING it anymore."

The boy and I start having this discussion, about the pilot and how he just sat there and I add, "Yes - you ALWAYS have to try. You can't just let that happen, you might die anyway, but you have to try."

Which is, I will now admit to you, sort of a personal mantra.

You HAVE to try.

It's like defensive driving for your LIFE.

There is a part of me that is always ready. I know how I will get out of any building in any situation. If it's a building I go into frequently I know MULTIPLE ways I will go.I work out how to hang on to FOUR children in emergencies. I know how I'll get us all out if the car goes into water.

I might not succeed. But no one will ever be able to say I didn't try.

The rest of our lives works that way too.

We don't have "normal". Haven't had for years. But you have to TRY. You have to go out to dinner and to movies and museums and festivals. You have to keep moving and do what you have to to make your life continue to GO forward.

We don't always succeed. I have a kid who will take his shoes and socks off at a restaurant every time. Sometimes there is screaming. Sometimes one of them counts loudly, much to the displeasure of everyone around us.

You have to try.

Because if you don't, you're just those people who are prisoners of fate. You DO fall of the cliff with the plane. You DO find yourself trapped at home 24/7 with children who are special needs - never getting OUT or interacting with adults or other humans.

You can't let fate win every time.

She's gonna win in the end.

But until that day, you HAVE to try.

You HAVE To Try

So my entire parenting ethos of never letting my kids watch violence and crap on TV has completely died on the vine. I did pretty well for about six years, and then my oldest boy wanted to watch PRIMEVAL on the BBC and it's been all down here from there. I just let more and more in.

Such as.....recently.......

2012.

Yes that 2012. Sigh I let him watch it, and not only did he watch it he watched it AGAIN in High Def when we got the new TV.

It's ok. Fairly silly but meh. But I digress.

We're watching this scene, classic movie situation where a plane is teetering on the edge of a cliff and just barely nudged over - and the pilot does the quick PHEW because he thinks everything is ok...and then WOOOPS the plane slides over and he dies a fiery death.

The boy looks at me and says,"Mom WHY did he just sit there?"

And that is when I start talking."He should've jumped up and run to the back of the plane and hopped out one of the emergency exits. He could've jumped out long before the plane got to the cliff as he really wasn't FLYING it anymore."

The boy and I start having this discussion, about the pilot and how he just sat there and I add, "Yes - you ALWAYS have to try. You can't just let that happen, you might die anyway, but you have to try."

Which is, I will now admit to you, sort of a personal mantra.

You HAVE to try.

It's like defensive driving for your LIFE.

There is a part of me that is always ready. I know how I will get out of any building in any situation. If it's a building I go into frequently I know MULTIPLE ways I will go.I work out how to hang on to FOUR children in emergencies. I know how I'll get us all out if the car goes into water.

I might not succeed. But no one will ever be able to say I didn't try.

The rest of our lives works that way too.

We don't have "normal". Haven't had for years. But you have to TRY. You have to go out to dinner and to movies and museums and festivals. You have to keep moving and do what you have to to make your life continue to GO forward.

We don't always succeed. I have a kid who will take his shoes and socks off at a restaurant every time. Sometimes there is screaming. Sometimes one of them counts loudly, much to the displeasure of everyone around us.

You have to try.

Because if you don't, you're just those people who are prisoners of fate. You DO fall of the cliff with the plane. You DO find yourself trapped at home 24/7 with children who are special needs - never getting OUT or interacting with adults or other humans.

You can't let fate win every time.

She's gonna win in the end.

But until that day, you HAVE to try.

Help Me Help You

So it's happened again and I guess maybe I wasn't clear the first time. So I'm here once again on behalf of all parents with a special needs child in their life.

See, we get it. You who live in the world where disability isn't 100 percent of your daily routine, you are not equipped to deal with the situation our children put you in.

Especially if their disability isn't readily VISIBLE.

My children look "normal" - first person to try to correct me and say I'm supposed to say "typical" gets the boot. My blog, my words.

But see here is where we run into a snag. They look like bouncy little six year old boys. But you address them verbally, and we as their parents see your confusion when they don't respond.

Or they do something weird in response. Stick a spoon up their nose. Something.

So we try to help you understand. We say "He's special, he doesn't understand."

And this is where we hit the wall. Because you feel this weird need to get this glazed over "Jesus loves me" look on your face and spout "Well they're ALL special aren't they?"

It would be at this point in the conversation that I'm considering leaping across the table and popping you one with my spoon.

Here is why that's inappropriate.

You are making light of my children's mental disability. I realize that you are uncomfortable and don't know what to say. It's ok. I don't expect you to have a witty come back and there is nothing that you can say to make it better.

Say this. "OH, ok. What can I get you to drink?" or whatever would be appropriate if you are not a waitress.

But saying that is patronizing and makes me want to smack you.

No, they aren't all special in the sense of having a mental disability. But thank you for being rude and acting like this isn't a problem or a concern in my life. Thank you for making light of mental disability. Thank you for now putting me in the position of having to explain that my children are mentally disabled, they are autistic. Thanks for bringing it to the head of the conversation, as though the kid chewing on his own sock wasn't an indication something was wrong.

I really just wanted to eat dinner. Thanks for being a smug, patronizing ass.

The rest of you.

Don't do it. I mean it. The next one of you who does this to us is gonna get it.

Help Me Help You

So it's happened again and I guess maybe I wasn't clear the first time. So I'm here once again on behalf of all parents with a special needs child in their life.

See, we get it. You who live in the world where disability isn't 100 percent of your daily routine, you are not equipped to deal with the situation our children put you in.

Especially if their disability isn't readily VISIBLE.

My children look "normal" - first person to try to correct me and say I'm supposed to say "typical" gets the boot. My blog, my words.

But see here is where we run into a snag. They look like bouncy little six year old boys. But you address them verbally, and we as their parents see your confusion when they don't respond.

Or they do something weird in response. Stick a spoon up their nose. Something.

So we try to help you understand. We say "He's special, he doesn't understand."

And this is where we hit the wall. Because you feel this weird need to get this glazed over "Jesus loves me" look on your face and spout "Well they're ALL special aren't they?"

It would be at this point in the conversation that I'm considering leaping across the table and popping you one with my spoon.

Here is why that's inappropriate.

You are making light of my children's mental disability. I realize that you are uncomfortable and don't know what to say. It's ok. I don't expect you to have a witty come back and there is nothing that you can say to make it better.

Say this. "OH, ok. What can I get you to drink?" or whatever would be appropriate if you are not a waitress.

But saying that is patronizing and makes me want to smack you.

No, they aren't all special in the sense of having a mental disability. But thank you for being rude and acting like this isn't a problem or a concern in my life. Thank you for making light of mental disability. Thank you for now putting me in the position of having to explain that my children are mentally disabled, they are autistic. Thanks for bringing it to the head of the conversation, as though the kid chewing on his own sock wasn't an indication something was wrong.

I really just wanted to eat dinner. Thanks for being a smug, patronizing ass.

The rest of you.

Don't do it. I mean it. The next one of you who does this to us is gonna get it.

I'm Gonna Wash That Puke Right Outta My Hair...

Oh GOD I've been sick.

There has been a ridiculous amount of sick in this house since last week. It started with the husband being sick and throwing up last week. And then I was sick. Not well. Unwell. But it went away.

Then on Saturday, one twin vomits at the table. (Always a treat. This isn't in the parenting books but FYI future parents, it happens.). That boy puked a couple of times and seemed better. We went on our way until Sunday night when suddenly, my joyous "I'm drinking wine with dinner and having a lovely evening" turned into "OMG why do I feel so bad?"

I went to bed mid supper and laid in my bedroom with an overwhelming feeling of "I am about to explode" hovering over me.

I eventually went to the toilet and unreleased my supper out the wrong end, and the wine.

Note to self - Pear Wine - not so good in reverse.

Then I crawled into bed shivering and trembling and sweating and feeling like I was dying.

In the middle of the night, I heard, cough cough PUKE from the baby bed. I leaped out of bed and picked her up-grabbing a wipe to wipe off her face and hair, and the husband cleaned up her bed. It was just a little baby puke. And as I sat there in my dizzy haze clutching her, she fell back asleep without a care.

We crawl back into bed, when about an hour late we hear the louder unmistakable spatter of vomit from the next room. It's the oldest boy. And he's rained down vomit on his brothers from the top bunk.

At this point my fever has climbed back up and I'm basically useless. My husband ran the gauntlet of getting him cleaned up and cleaning the bedroom enough to allow humans to use it. By that time it was time for school for the twins, so he sent them on their way.

The oldest boy gets up twice to tell me he's "shart" which is hilarious to him although it's gross. I think it's just funny to say - it's as close to cussing as he gets so he kind of giggles when he says it.

My husband ran every single thing yesterday without so much as an ounce of help from me. As a matter of fact, I was a huge baby and cried about having to take medicine. But I felt bad, leave me alone. And don't get me wrong, I don't HELP all that much normally anyway.

But I woke up today on my own about noonish, and felt an urge to get out of bed, which was a huge step. And I was hungry. So I ate some cinnamon life and made some coffee. So far it has stayed down. I took a shower and washed two days worth of puke spatter out of my hair. I puked so much over this illness that I was drinking water, at the end, just to have something to puke up vs. having the dry heaves.

I used the soap which I like to call OLD FRENCH WHORE to wash away all remnants of puke and sick smell. So far it's working. I smell like an old French whore. But a clean one.

Now, I used to have this computer thing I liked...hmmm, how does this work again?

oh yeah - PUBLISH POST...

I'm Gonna Wash That Puke Right Outta My Hair...

Oh GOD I've been sick.

There has been a ridiculous amount of sick in this house since last week. It started with the husband being sick and throwing up last week. And then I was sick. Not well. Unwell. But it went away.

Then on Saturday, one twin vomits at the table. (Always a treat. This isn't in the parenting books but FYI future parents, it happens.). That boy puked a couple of times and seemed better. We went on our way until Sunday night when suddenly, my joyous "I'm drinking wine with dinner and having a lovely evening" turned into "OMG why do I feel so bad?"

I went to bed mid supper and laid in my bedroom with an overwhelming feeling of "I am about to explode" hovering over me.

I eventually went to the toilet and unreleased my supper out the wrong end, and the wine.

Note to self - Pear Wine - not so good in reverse.

Then I crawled into bed shivering and trembling and sweating and feeling like I was dying.

In the middle of the night, I heard, cough cough PUKE from the baby bed. I leaped out of bed and picked her up-grabbing a wipe to wipe off her face and hair, and the husband cleaned up her bed. It was just a little baby puke. And as I sat there in my dizzy haze clutching her, she fell back asleep without a care.

We crawl back into bed, when about an hour late we hear the louder unmistakable spatter of vomit from the next room. It's the oldest boy. And he's rained down vomit on his brothers from the top bunk.

At this point my fever has climbed back up and I'm basically useless. My husband ran the gauntlet of getting him cleaned up and cleaning the bedroom enough to allow humans to use it. By that time it was time for school for the twins, so he sent them on their way.

The oldest boy gets up twice to tell me he's "shart" which is hilarious to him although it's gross. I think it's just funny to say - it's as close to cussing as he gets so he kind of giggles when he says it.

My husband ran every single thing yesterday without so much as an ounce of help from me. As a matter of fact, I was a huge baby and cried about having to take medicine. But I felt bad, leave me alone. And don't get me wrong, I don't HELP all that much normally anyway.

But I woke up today on my own about noonish, and felt an urge to get out of bed, which was a huge step. And I was hungry. So I ate some cinnamon life and made some coffee. So far it has stayed down. I took a shower and washed two days worth of puke spatter out of my hair. I puked so much over this illness that I was drinking water, at the end, just to have something to puke up vs. having the dry heaves.

I used the soap which I like to call OLD FRENCH WHORE to wash away all remnants of puke and sick smell. So far it's working. I smell like an old French whore. But a clean one.

Now, I used to have this computer thing I liked...hmmm, how does this work again?

oh yeah - PUBLISH POST...