You Can Run But You Can't Hide

It's THAT week, the week defined by three little letters that scare the crap out of my whole family - PMS.

It tends to be somewhat manageable if I have been exercising. Due to the flu thingy, I didn't feel well enough this week to exercise. So it has reared its ugly head with a vengeance.

No chocolate is safe, in fact, no food is safe. I am feeling fat and frumpy and pissed off. Aye caramba!
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While tucking in the kids last night I started thinking about monsters.

Sammy has been watching Monsters Inc. a lot lately so it's not surprising.

When I was a kid, I was sure a monster had to have a green face. The monster that scared me was on Scooby Doo. Yes I was the oddly wimpy child afraid of Scooby Doo monsters, or at least this particular one.

Who remembers the round table with a tablecloth flying across the room? In the center of the table was a crystal ball with a green head in it. Yep, that was the monster I was afraid of.

Throw in the fact that commercials for "The Exorcist" were showing on TV with old, pea soup face Linda, and I was a certifiable expert in my knowledge that monsters had green faces.

I knew there was one in my closet. I slept UNDER the covers, a most uncomfortable way to sleep. But it was safer. Everybody knows that if you sleep under the covers the monster will NEVER see you there. They're not only green but apparently near-sighted.

I was too scared to go up the stairs one night to my room and my father said that if I didn't go upstairs, I would get a spanking. So I went upstairs, quivering all the way.

The next day, I heard the jackass loudly (and proudly) braying to his friend about how he threatened me with punishment and I just "waltzed up the stairs."

I think my father's face should have been green.
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Azure caught my cold and missed the last three days of school.

Our bedrooms are across the hallway from each other and we were both laying in bed taking turns coughing.

"HACK HACK hack"

"HACK hack HACK"

"hack HACK hack"

It was as if we were communicating via our own special version of Morse code.

I'm off to buy some Benadryl today.
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Guys you may not want to read this part.

Last week it was time for the every two year visit to the pm. (pussy mechanic) I stole that expression from Bearette at Potatoes in the Mist. (Sorry all, too tired for html. The link is on the right.)

So I told her the good, my change in lifestyle from sedentary to active.

I told her the bad. I feel like a eunuch.

And of course she was staring the ugly right in the face. LOL

GAR, I hate that appointment. It's so damn humiliating.

How can scientists make a pill that will help men get it up long past when they need to, but they can't figure out a blood test to check for cervical cancer?

I'm sure it all comes down to $$$$.
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The in-laws are coming to visit today. They are going to watch the rugrats while we go to a concert.

What does one wear to a concert nowadays? I'm thinking capri pants and a t-shirt, nothing fancy.

Any suggestions?

I need to cut down on the chocolate today so my muffin tops won't be poking out while I'm surrounded by all those twenty-somethings at the concert.

Everyone have a wonderful weekend.

Over and out!

My Apologies

I'm sorry. I haven't meant to drop off the blogger map. Last week I was busy and this week I got sick. I've been running a low grade temp for three days.

Yesterday I spent the day in bed sleeping. My husband and teen daughter were home while I slept.

They even left the kitchen for me to clean, so thoughtful.

Here's the pics.

I shudder to think of what it would look like if I ever came down with a serious illness.

All Better

Phew. Azure is back in school and Sammy is too.

It's amazing how quickly my sanity returns when I get my two hours of silence a day.

Now that Sammy is back on a regular schedule, he's much better behaved also. I don't have to hear that constant high-pitched scream every two minutes.

Hallelujah! The only fly in my ointent is that he is out through half of July and August and so is Azure. Who wants a roommate later this summer?
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The pink lady apples are gone from the store. First they dissapeared from the Bel-Air.

I whimpered audibly when I realized it. People were staring.

There were still some at Safeway. Then they dissapeared.

I tried some braeburns. Yick!

The jazz ambrosias from New Zealand are what I am currently eating but I miss my ladies.

It occured to me while thinking about this that I have become my mother. She goes on about Mcintosh apples all the time.

It seems to me that when we find ourselves becoming our parents, it's time to call in Mr. Kevorkian.

"Please Mr. K, I can't take the pain anymore."
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Am I the only one who gets a food hangover?

I ate too much last night. Hubster and I went out to dinner.

We had thai food and then we discovered the Cold Stone Creamery. OMG, heaven.

Now I feel like I have been drinking all night. Something about pigging out doesn't agree with me.

I find this odd since food used to be my favorite drug. You know you're old when you wake up with a hangover and you didn't drink.

Sigh.

Letter of Resignation

Dear Family,

While I love you all dearly, I feel it is time for me to pursue employment elsewhere.

I am tired of starting at one side of the kitchen cleaning, making it to the other side, and then having to start over again.

I am tired of going into a completely quiet kitchen to fix myself something to eat and having you suddenly all appear like a horde of galloping buffalo.

I am tired of having to clean a poopy diaper the minute I have gotten a chance to fix my own plate of food.

Your sick leave policy stinks. In fact your sick policy seems to be that no matter how sick I am, I must still wait on you.

I'm not fond of your vacation policy either. It states that I must take you with me and wait on you in a different location than home.

While your bathroom policy is generous in that I get unlimited breaks, they are less than relaxing due to the incessant pounding on the door.

You never pick up your messes. If I mop the floor, something is spilled within ten minutes. Your dirty clothes never make it into the hamper. Your wet towels never get hung up. I never get to finish any task without stopping to wait on you.

I have invented a time machine and I am going back to tell my single self to finish college and enjoy that single life.

I will tell her to enjoy sleeping in , reading books and watching movies without a child coming in the room banging on toy drums.

I will tell her that keeping her living space clean is nothing when she only has to clean up after herself.

I will tell her that she is quite significant all by herself.

If she is smart, she will heed my advice.

Sincerely,
Mrs. B

Speedy Update

Azure is home with strep. It looked like she had the stomach flu. She was vomiting Saturday night. Then she was fine Sunday, just listless. Then Monday she started vomiting again.

She would seem to get better and then get sick again.

Monday night I took her to the ER. After a three and a half hour wait, we gave up and went home.

On Tuesday I took her to the pediatrician, who made the strep diagnosis. They gave her an antibiotic shot to start her out.

Here is the thing with this kid when she is sick.

She can have a hangnail, a common cold or pneumonia and she still acts the same.

She moans like she's in the labor ward of the hospital shooting out an 11 pound baby. She does it ALL DAY LONG every time she gets sick and I am OUT of sympathy.

Maybe a better mother wouldn't get annoyed but how am I supposed to tell real sick from slightly sick when she does it EVERY TIME?

Does anybody else have a kid like this? Aargh!

Adventures In Grilling - The Final Frontier

My husband has been the sole griller of the house for as long as we've had a barbecue. We've always had the charcoal grill and I wasn't up to the task of learning to build a fire. Pitiful maybe, but I enjoy turning a knob and getting my fire; not piling up briquettes, lighting them and waiting for them to get to just the right temperature.

However, he received a gas grill for Christmas and I decided to have an impromptu barbecue yesterday. Only he was busy working from home so it was up to me.

I asked him how to fire up the grill and he told me. It sounded pretty simple. Turn on the gas, light the burners, close the lid and let it heat up.

I closed the lid to let it heat up and went in the house to salt the chicken. It didn't take long at all.

When I walked back outside, smoke was billowing from the grill. Huh?

Not only was it twice the temperature he told me it needed to be, there was a bonfire going on. I turned it off but there was still a fire. I learned a few things about grilling.

There is a tray for catching grease. Just like every other piece of equipment a man uses, the grease won't be cleaned out of it. Otherwise, it wouldn't be manly now, would it? Clean the tray before heating the grill.

Chicken can be burned to a crisp on the outside and raw in the middle. This is the result of grease fires that continue to erupt from below while the meat is grilling.

If you ask the kid to go into the house and get you a knife, specify a steak knife. Else you will get a butter knife.

Dogs that have not wanted to leave the house and go outside all day will be pawing the back door to get outside and stand in the way.

If you are doing the side dishes at the same time and they are cooking in the house, something besides the meat may also be overcooked.

That said, I am intrigued and may have to try this again, but first I'll clean out that grease tray.