I would like to share with you....

the unconscionable crimes that my husband has committed this week.
Just to get you up to speed, the boys have been down on the farm for the past week.

The first day they were gone, a lady hit my van. She just didn't see me and decided that she needed to be in the left-turn lane. Unfortunately, I was in left-turn lane.
$975 worth of damage. No one hurt though.
So the week was got off to a grand start. Then the PMS began.

Night 1: dealing with the wreck.
Night 2: I discover that ZD has eaten the last of the chocolate pudding.
Night 3: I discover that ZD has eaten all of my Fudge Stripe Cookies.
Night 4: I discover that ZD has eaten all of the chocolate ice cream and left the counter, blender, and cabinets all chocolately.
Night 5: I find an empty box of fudgecicles in the freezer. (Hmmm...it was not empty when the boys left.)
Night 6: I discover that there is absolutely no chocolate in the entire house but there are plenty of healthy fruit strips and fat free snacks.

I haven't killed him yet. But I am considering a padlocked cabinet for my chocolate.

A visit with the Orthdontist

The oldest boy has an overbite. A week or so ago, he went to do his initial x-rays and let the orthodontist make a plan on how to fix his mouth.

Initially, she planned to to do the treatment in two stages. Stage 1 would last a year and would cost us $1000 after insurance. We never discussed stage 2. Apparently, stage 2 is a really big deal

Today, we met with her to hash out all the plans now that x-rays, molds, and pictures had been done.

Things changed...a lot.

The oldest boy apparently has a skeletal overbite and a dental overbite. The good news is that according to his growth plates, he hasn't yet had his major growth spurt. In fact, he's god another 10 to 12 months of slow growth before he really starts growing.

Both the Orthodontist and I found that quite amazing since the 12-year-old boy is already 5 feet 8 and wears a size 14 shoe.
I don't want to think about him growing a lot more.

Anyway, The dental overbite will be treated with braces. The skeletal overbite will be treated with this contraption to encourage his lower jaw to grow quicker.

Yeah....that's what I thought also. It's called a Herbst appliance. They look like the things on our storm door to keep it from slamming.

The poor boy will have to wear this and/or braces for the next TWO YEARS. And he will will most likely wear a retainer until he is in his 20's. (So says the orthodontist.)

Poor kid. He's got years of torture ahead of him. Paid torture.

How much will 2+ years of dental torture cost us?

Are you sitting down?

I would recommend it.

Especially if you have a kid with an overbite....and very little in the way of a chin.

And you know insurance only covers about $1000 to $1500.....lifetime.


Ok....you've been warned.
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$5900.00, plus $170 for all the x-rays, molds, and photos.

The boy got spacers in today. He hasn't complained but he did ask for some Tylenol. In a week he will have metal bands put in instead of the crowns in the above picture. A week after that, he'll have 4 baby teeth pulled. Then he'll be measured for his torture device....umm...Herbst Appliance.
Two weeks after that, everything will be installed. Braces, spacers, Herbst, and a few bands just to round out the event.

But it's better than the option of waiting until adulthood. Adults with skeletal overbites have to have jaw surgery.

Thank goodness he's still growing.

I wonder if the mil-pay can set up an allotment to the orthodontist. We do have three more boys coming up behind this oldest one. We might be able to fund our own treatment room.

Oh...and we'll need to start a shoe fund. We can't find many shoes larger than a 14 around here. I don't foresee his foot to stop growing any time soon.

$%%&#&*!!!

I hate people who chew me out.
I especially hate people who chew me out over the phone.....at seven o'clock in the morning.

People who are mad at me because they made a mistake and now they have a problem.

I really hate people who chew me out even when I am trying to solve the problem that they created. When I am going above what is required of me and trying my very best to help them out.

People that do not appreciate my very best. And feel that I should be doing way more them to fix the problem that they created...thusly chewing me out at 7 in the morning.
And if this "person" is someones husband with whom I've never even spoken to before....I will take it the wrong way.

According to him, I "dropped the ball."
According to me....The deadline was March 28th. I'm doing you a favor please act accordingly and stop telling me that I need an attitude adjustment for pointing out the time of your call.

ZD plans to speak the very unappreciative man. He feels that a man picking on a woman is a coward.

In which Sheila officially throws in the towel

The boys were supposed to go down to Grandma's farm today. They had planned to spend Spring Break down there. That was going to be a good thing because today is the day that the contractors are coming to tear out the water damaged cabinet and rip up all the flooring. (We had a refrigerator supply line leak.)

Tomorrow they will replace the flooring and then Thursday will be the grand replacement of all the things that they drug out.
My kitchen will be out of commission for 3 days. Hopefully, only 3 days.

Hopefully.

But the boys won't be at Grandma's. Nope.
M's eye are healing great but he has one medication he receives three times a day, another is 4 times a day, and then an eye ointment at night.
Thankfully, he is very compliant.

Just to add some excitement, the baby developed cellulitis in a cut on his foot. That means soaking his foot twice a day and antibiotics three times a day. Oh....and he also has some serious allergy conjunctivitis. So he also has eye drops twice a day.
Let's just say that he is not the best the little patient in the world and leave it at that.

To round out the troubles, A is developing a cold. Unfortunately, he also has asthma so any cold leads to croup and days on the nebulizer. I'm just waiting for that to start up.

So I made a check list of what to do for which kid and when.

Which will be fun ..... without a kitchen.

If you see me this week and I have that maniacal look on my face... you'll know why.

Because we love excitement around here.

These are not my trees. They belong to the county. They county's property butts right up to mine. They removed these trees at our request because the pine tree was a. leaning towards our house and b. tearing up our driveway.

The Bradford Pear was a favorite tree for climbing. Most days, there would be at least 5 kids up in the tree. They even named all the branches. But it had to go because it would have been destroyed when the pine tree came down.

The pear came down fairly easy. The county folks knocked down my cable wire and tore up the corner of my siding. (I have that on my list of things to complain about.)

Then the pine removal began.

That's an 85 foot bucket truck. It wasn't tall enough. Notice the lean. This is the best angle to see just how non-straight the tree was.

That tree was a house killer. The boys had to sleep downstairs during heavy storms.
The roots grew under my driveway and pushed up the concrete...and grew into my sewage line. Can you tell that I have no love lost for the giant pine?

The view from across the street. This is after most of the limbs were removed. We left the house early and missed the initial action. This is what we found around 10 am. That's my driveway where the bucket truck is. There were another dozen county vehicles in the road. Wood chippers, backhoe, dump truck, fuel truck, and then various pickup trucks. They pretty much blocked the entire road.

While two guys from the power company cut down the big pine tree, another 10 county guys watched them. The work started at 7:30 am and they didn't finish up until after 4 pm.
And look what they left me with. I had no idea that they could possibly tear up my driveway more than it had been... I underestimated them. The funniest part was, they used leaf blowers to clean the debris off the driveway. I told them that that was an exercise in futility. (click on the pic to make it bigger. The expression of confusion on Andrew's face is hilarious. Ignore the ugly trailer. It's there temporarily.) Of course, the first thing I complained about was the oil stain. That set ZD off. "Well that's just the last straw....An oil stain. Now the driveway is completely ruined."

Here's another shot. For reference, those are ZD's size 13.5 feet. Notice the huge chunks of concrete sticking up. Lovely, huh?

And to add insult to injury, they left the two giant stumps. 50 year old pine trees leave a very big stump. I swear, my kids do own shoes. They just don't like to wear them.

ZooDad has already drafted his next letter.

And that's not all. Next post.....Water damage in the Zoo.

News

MIL's surgery went well. She's up and about. She even insisted on spending tonight on her own. I guess she's gotten sick of being "watched over." ZD has to go back down there tomorrow to take her to for her check up.

But today he was home digging a hole. A really big freaking hole. A hole so big that Sam fell into it and couldn't get out.

We look like we're on our way to having a moat. Actually...we kind of are since it is filling with water.
You see, we have a root that has made it's way into a pipe. My sewer pipe.

UGH!

The county came, cleared the line, and stuck a camera in there. That's when we discovered the root.
ZD decided that he would tackle this problem himself.

Of course, ZD had no faith in the County guy's spray painted mark. Noooooo....he had to dig a 6 foot long trench and then take it down 6 inches across.....back and forth.

Where did he find the pipe? About 4 and half feet down...right where the county guy said it was.

sigh

Today he dug the hole and bought the materials. (And griped about the fact that there is 4 inch line and 4.5 inch line. And how you really can't tell the difference without cutting the line.)
Tomorrow, he's cutting the line and hopefully....cross your fingers, pray, sacrifice a chicken for me...he'll get the line repaired.

"You're knitting socks!!!"

"Boy, you really don't have anything better to do, do you!"

This was said to me yesterday at my great-nephew's birthday party**. And it wasn't said in a "Wow, you sure are inspiring way."

There were many retorts I could have made about the activities that the speaker chose to do in her time. Most, well all, would have be cruel. So I said nothing except, "I enjoy it" and went back to my knitting.

I found this comment odd since the speaker knew that I am not a sit around kind of person. She knew I homeschooled my four children. She knew that I have 2 children with Asperger's. She even knew that I made the birthday boy's cake. But she felt this need to belittle me for knitting a pair of socks.

So I paused my knitting to check on my four boys and then think about any possible reason she say such a thing.

Why?

Was she offended by knitting? Maybe had some repressed fiber trauma that just exploded out at the sight of my partially finished socks.

Does she have a long term memory issues? Perhaps she actually thought that all I did was sit around knitting.

Maybe she was jealous that she didn't bring anything to do? With no other distractions, she was forced to talk to other adults while ignoring her small toddler who kept wandering off.

Maybe I just offended her? I try not to put some air of "being able to do it all." Because I don't do it all. I just do the things I want to do and few things that I have to do.
My priorities are different.
I care more about baking birthday cakes than I do cleaning my sink for the 5th time in a single day, or cleaning my oven. I am more interested in knitting socks for all my guys than getting my nails done. I'd rather homeschool my own children than spend my days in a classroom teaching a group of children.
I pick to read a book over watching some old Western on TV. (DH doesn't care if I read while he watches TV...as long as we are together.)

These are the my choices. My choices don't automatically negate other people's choices. I honestly don't really care how other people spend their time. I figure that they too make choices of things they want and need to do. And that all those decisions fill up their day just like my choices fill my days.
I can't even say that either one of us uses our time more wisely. Because I don't have any clue. Now, if they start griping about their choices, I may form an opinion. But until then, I'll just assume that you can manage your time planner as well as I can.

And while I'm at it with the venting about comments. "I just don't know how you do it all," is my second most hated statement. (Second only to "Four boys....when are you going to have a girl?") I'm no super woman. I don't do anything special. Please don't make me feel like a freak because the things I chose to do are not the things you choose to do.

One day I'm going to just going to lose my last strand of sanity and I will say, "Well, I don't know how you get all the kids up at 6:30, feed, pack their lunches, and dress them, get dressed yourself, get to school by 8 am and then leave your kids with people you don't even know. Then go to work away from your family all day, pick up the kids from afterschool day care, help them with their homework, cook dinner, clean the house, do laundry, watch TV all evening while your kids watch TV in their rooms away from you, and then go to bed knowing that you'll have to do it all over again tomorrow.
How in the world do you do it all?"

But that would be vicious.


**Great Nephew's party was at one of the indoor, inflatable jumper places. The kids were all buddy-paired and no adults were near me for conversation at that time. My choices were knit in peace or gawk at children who were not mine. I chose to knit.

Nag

Pick up your knight stuff.
Stop chasing the cat.
Quit walking on your toes.
Where are your shoes?
Who left this milk on the table?
Why are there Lego's everywhere?
Quit walking on your toes.
Have you brushed your teeth yet?
Whose book is this?
Did you let the dogs out?
QUIT walking on your TOES!
How did all this stuff get under the couch?
Are you finished with those math problems?
What was that noise?
And quitwalkingonyourtoes!
Don't let that cat do that.
Don't do that to the cat.
Ewwww.....clean that up.
Heels! Heels! Walk on your heels!
Please stop talking so loud.
Why aren't you dressed yet?
Have you brushed your teeth?
No toes! Stop that walking on your toes.
No, you can't have a snack. We just had breakfast.
Is that a dirty shirt?
Are you still working on those math problems?
HEELS!
Don't run in the house.
Whose bike in out in the yard.
No you can't play your DS. You haven't even finished your math.
Heel, toe! Heel, toe!
Don't sit on your brother's head.
I don't care who started it.
How did this get broken.
DON'T WALK ON YOUR TOES!


(sigh) I have become a nagger.
One toe walker was bad enough but now the youngest (with no sensory issues) has picked it up as habit. If this keeps up both will end up at the orthopedic for leg braces.

I'll never go back

In my life before children, I was a middle school science teacher. I've taught 7th grade life science, 8th grade general science, and 9th grade physical science.

I was good at it too. When I taught in a state with "end of grade" tests that counted on the students report cards and class averages were discussed in teacher meetings...my students outscored every other class in the school. even my hoodlum students.

I can teach any child. I know this. It might be a challenge, but I know I can teach science to any child.

But I will never, ever return to a classroom as a full time teacher.

Yes, students are unruly and there is a lot of violence in the classroom. But there was back then too. I broke up a fight once when I was hugely pregnant and a student reared back to punch me until I said, "You do that and my husband will hunt you down and hurt you." It disarmed him long enough for him to realize what he almost did. He was immediately ashamed.
I had two 8th graders that gave birth before I did and one other whose "Momma did the right thing for her" according to another teacher.
I lost one of my favorite students to gang violence. He was 13.
Another of my favorites was kicked out of school for smoking marijuana in the bathroom of a fast food place while on a school fiend trip.
I begged the county not to expel him. I knew that he would never return. He didn't and he had great potential.

Teaching was hard work. Well, the actual teaching wasn't hard. That part was fun. But the other stuff was exhausting. The paperwork. Coaching cheer leading. Detention hall. Bus duty. Teacher meetings. Maintaining accreditation. Chaperoning dances. Doing fundraisers. Being surrogate parents for kids who were apparently being raised by wolves.
All without any real support from the office.

I never sent kids to the office. Because I knew nothing would ever happen to them. Or....too much would happen to them. Which was worse actually and totally undermined the authority of the "office."

But why I'll never go back has nothing to do with kids. I loved the kids.

I won't go back due to the behavior of the grown-ups. The parents, the other teachers, and the administration.
No support. Too many regulations. Curriculum with no proven track record. Watered down information. Politically correct tip-toeing. Fundraisers and gimmicks. Parents who won't back up an educator. Parents who feel their children can do no wrong. Teachers who don't want to be there. Teachers who don't know their material or really care about imparting it. Administrations that are more concerned with the test scores than the students knowledge. And a union that doesn't really care about the kids at all.
I had an 8th grade boy who fasted for days before wrestling meets so he would stay in the best weight class. One day he fainted in my class. I told the coach, his parents, the Principal, and the school nurse about his fasting.
No one thought it was an issue. He was a good wrestler.
The other teachers thought I was "blowing this all out of proportion."

In the years that I taught, I met 3 teachers that I would want teaching my children. Just 3 people in 2 different school buildings. 3 people that I would trust with the education and care of my children during the 8 hour school day.
That's why I homeschool.

Have I ever told you the story of the straw that broke this camel's back?

Jacob was only 10 weeks old and was in a day care about 3 miles from my school. We had teacher die at school. He had a heart attack in the teachers' lounge. It was terrible for everybody. The next day, we had a lot of teachers out for some reason and my day care called to say that Jacob had a 103 degree fever and had to be picked up. ZooDad was in the field and could not be reached so I was the only option.

My principal would not let me leave work. He would not. He made me wait until my planning period to get my baby and then the secretary watched Jacob until the end of the school day. He wouldn't even let me keep my son with me for those last two hours of school.

After school I took him to the doctor and then to the hospital. Tiny little Jacob had pneumonia. When I called in the next morning, my principal did not want to let me have the day off because other teachers were out for the funeral. I told him I would resign immediately and he changed his mind.

When my contract renewal was offered a few weeks later, I did not sign it.
I often wonder if I should tell that administrator why he lost his "Teacher of the Year."

Short Timer Blues

We are down to days folks.
Days.

In days the big man will be leaving his sandy and hot habitat and going to a hot humid spot just one step up from Beelzebub's hangout.
After serving penitence there, he'll be back home in the zoo.

Days. Almost enough to count on my fingers.

Sigh

And of course every thing's going to hell in a hand basket while we're waiting on him. I swear....I can get through over 14 months with nary an issue and then I just go to pot during the last few weeks.

Speaking of going to the pot...we're having trouble with ours. Me and the main sewage line are duking it out. Actually, me, the main sewage line, and some Ligustrum bushes are all fighting it out. It seems that the Ligustrum bushes would like sole access to my sewage line for their roots.
I, however, contend that since the Ligustrums aren't paying the mortgage...they can just bite me.
The sewage line is playing both sides of this whole fight but it seems to be cozying up with the bushes at this point.

But I have plans and Mr. Rooter will back me up on them tomorrow when he shows up.
I am very possessive of my waste water removal pipes.
As soon as ZooDad gets home we will settle this once and for all. It would be settled sooner but I can't work the chainsaw. (Nor should I be trusted with one since I cut the TV cable with the hedge trimmers once.)

The upstairs bathtub is trying to get in on the whole "Let's back up the house" plan but I have some heavy duty clog eater in mind for that mischievous piece of fiberglass and pipe. This stuff came in a bottle and double bagged for my protection. The upstairs commode is also mouthing off....but it's days are numbered too.
Quite wisely, the other sinks and toilets are toeing the line and not daring to really step off my path of conformity.
So it could be worse.

The same can not be said for the kitchen sink faucet. After numerous failed attempts to make it an upstanding chrome citizen, it will be evicted by mid-September. I've already informed it of the decision and it hasn't been scared straight yet.

The working/not working sprinkler head has received the same news but it decided that my threat was viable and is now spic-spic-spicing along like it should be. I did have to go out there and taunt it with a replacement head but you know....desperate times, desperate measures.

The mountain laundry continues to grow. Soon I'll be able to host climbs on it. You'll have to bring your own oxygen and guide. And then you'll have to fold a load of two before you can go home.

I'm still painting.
Still. Painting.
Painting.
Still.
I think the fumes are getting to me. Or the heat.
I found myself sucked into a Wagner Power Sprayer commercial. I was actually lusting for a few seconds until I realized that in my hands, it would be like a bad episode of Mythbusters.
(Can these things explode, Hyneman? And would they completely cover the walls with paint if they did. No, Adam. That myth is busted.)
I do have one room completely done...ceiling, trim, walls. And two with trim and ceiling to go. Oh well, it gets done when it gets done.

School is.... going. I guess we're doing well. Matthew didn't cry once today. (New personal record) Jacob is engrossed in Black Horses for the King, which is history reading.
I'm totally working the kids like dogs. (wink)
Jacob re-started Latin again and this time...the time is right. In fact the time is so right that I'm not starting any other children on Latin until they hit sixth grade. Him and the chick on the LC DVD's are enjoying their time together. Plus the boy knows how to find his pronunciation CD, find his CD player, and then find the track he wants to listen too. All without my assistance.
It's a good thing.

Now, I'm off to bed. We have to be at school tomorrow for speech. At 8:30. In the morning. All dressed and everything. And trying not to look like a disgrace to homeschoolers. And hopefully Sam will be in a good mood.
Y'all wish me luck.

The good news is.....tomorrow is just one day closer.
(sigh)
Very soon.

Mango says, "Seriously, Don't mess with me. I mean it. I will gnaw you finger off if you touch me again. And you are not going out this door because I am not moving."

because I need a little more excitment around here.

This morning, I took oldest child to the doctor today. He had a repeat of last summer's mysterious baseball bat related hand rash. But this time, I think I know what triggered it.


This time he was holding a balloon and then minutes later, his hands are mottled.


His doctor seconds my guess that the kid is developing an allergy to latex. He has a follow up appointment with an allergist on Thursday. He'll do blood work to confirm the allergy and see if there are any related allergies.
Fun, huh?

Aaaaaaaannnnnd.....then Tricare Appeals called. It seems that they didn't get the message that regular Tricare approved Matthew's OT. Nooooo...now they want some past assessments to see if Matthew has made any progress. So I had to fax them the assessments.

You know they're going to screw this up, right? There's no way that they won't. The question is...just how bad will they screw it up.

Oh...and it's our anniversary. Year 13 has been a tough one. Year 14 is starting out on the wrong foot and will need to make immediate adjustment.

I'm always up for a challenge but you know, sometimes it would be nice to just have things go smoothly. Of course, I'd be suspicions.

Not in the best of moods.

I've deleted this post. I need to pull my knit socks up and just be happy.

And that's all I have to say about that.

last post was a test.

You should be able to see 6 pictures. I can see them...but that might just be because I'm signed into flickr. Can anyone see them? can you see a couple? What do you see instead?

It's easier to upload a bunch to flicker and then make a bar than to upload to blogger. But not if they can't be seen....sigh.

I'll repost them if needed. There's a mighty cute pic of Sam with a firefly on there.

In which the woman gets VERY angry with Tricare

A snippet of my letter to them in reference to another denial...

The letter goes on to state that “long term therapy may confer no advantage over short term therapy.” While we agree that the research on Autism treatment may still experimental, we are certain, however, that having no therapy at all will not be advantageous to our son at all. Every doctor and therapist that we have ever worked with agrees with this. The only dissenting party is the Tricare reviewer of our son’s case.

The letter also states, that “once a patient has reached the point where no significant practical improvement can be expected, the skills of an authorized provider will not be required.” Our son has not reached a point where no practical improvement can be expected. In fact, with additional therapy, he can be expected to make further improvements. His physicians and therapists agree with this. Again, the only dissenting body is the Reconsideration Department of Tricare.

We ask that Tricare only do what they have promised us. As an involuntarily recalled military family, Tricare is our only option for medical insurance. We have a child who has a medical need. Prior to our involuntary recall, his medical needs were taken care of by our private insurance. Now that the government has forced us to use Tricare, Tricare refuses to treat our son’s medical needs.

There is a treatment for his disorder and it is covered by Tricare according to Tricare Policy Manual 6010.54-M, chapter 7, section 18.3. We are not asking for anything more than what is already laid out in policy.

M has a loss of function due to Asperger’s Syndrome. He has not yet reached his highest level of function and will not without the appropriate therapy. We are asking that Tricare provide that therapy for him. It is very upsetting for us to have people who have never seen our child making decision that will affect the rest of his life.

The people who are active in our son’s life, his doctors, his therapists both at MCG and at school, do not feel that M has reached his highest ability. They all agree that he can make great strides if given the opportunity. As, his parents, we will do all that is possible to make sure he gets that opportunity.

Do you think they'll get that little threat at the end?
My next step is taking the newspaper article of our boys and all my paperwork into all of our Congressmen's local offices, including the potential replacements for Congressman Norwood.
One more denial...and I'm starting a Congressional hearing.
I am already bolstering up for the fight.

Another reason to homeschool

So I don't have to deal with Principal's like this one in Arizona. My niece was in a similar situation with her kids. Her hubby came home for R&R during part of Christmas break. But the kids went to school during his last 5 days home.

I couldn't believe that she sent them.
I wouldn't have. School doesn't matter nearly as much after a parent has been gone for 6 or more months.

Thankfully, it's not an issue for us. We're taking our Spring Break late and long so we can all snuggle and cuddle and pretty much just inhale as much ZooDad as we possible can.

And thankfully, that AZ principal had a change of thought and decided to make an exception. I just wish his heart could have been softened without all that shame and before worrying a family unnecessarily.

A dose of reality

As bad as things can sometimes get. My children at the very least have two parents who love them and place their needs above all others.

A lot of children don't have that gift.

I grew up fairly poor. We had a lot of financial issues and my father was an alcoholic...but I was loved. I knew I was loved and I knew that I had people to take care of me and wanted the best for me. (I have some stories that I'll start telling of my childhood. It got crazy at times.) I want more for my children. I want them to have a better childhood than I had.

But these children...they'd be happy to have my childhood.
UNKNOWN FATHER

This is what is going to be the downfall of our civilization. How do we fix this? Throwing money at it won't work. How do we fix these people? How do we save these children? All I can think of is doing my best to make sure that my sons never end up as "Unknown Fathers."
But even in my own family, I have members who could quite easily be in these stories. They have support and love but their children were not brought into this world in the best of situations. Even with love and education...they still made bad choices.
(sigh)
And the smallest and most helpless are the one who have to pay the price.

54 Days

Zoodad says that 54 days is almost 4 haircuts.

He'd better be right. I am just so hurt. First, he just up and runs off to fight in some war then he shaves all his hair off.

Can you tell he sent me another picture? He thought it was funny until he thought about how his kids would react. For the record...the 5 year old is a bit scared of this "bald daddy" and wants to make sure that his "real daddy" still has hair.

Men do not do well when they only socialize with each other and do not have family around to keep them on a even keel. This is why "war atrocities" happen.

Plague

As if we don't have enough going on...4 out of 5 inhabitants of the Zoo came down with a quite nasty stomach bug this weekend.
I wish I could say the lucky 1 out of 5 was me...but I did not escape the wrath of this mighty virus.

And as cruel fate always plans it...the kids bounced back much better than I did. So as I lay sick and nearly out of my head...they ran around creating mess and demanding food. Thankfully, my mom and sister happily braved the sickness (They had it last week and were immune.) and came over to take care of the brood.
Today, I have planned massive cleaning and disinfecting until my energy runs out. (which means...not much cleaning or disinfecting.)

Then, ZooDad called. In my feverish and sickened state, I thought I heard him say that he lost a bet and shaved his head. I knew I had to have imagined it because my darling husband would not dare do such a thing 53 days before he was to come home for R&R.

My email inbox prooved that he would indeed dare to do such a thing.
He he was in town...I would kill him.
Thankfully, he's 8 time zones away and out of my reach.

I told him that he'd better will that hair to grow fast.

ARRRRGGGGGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That's me screaming my head off. Sorry.

By education, I am a biologist and an educator. By training, I am a forest fire fighter, a pharmacy technician, and I'm fairly decent in the field identifying plant species. And I can do a whole bunch of stuff with string.

But I am not a computer person. That's why I married a computer person. I don't like the hardware, the cables, the program installation, or setting up all the bells and whistles.
I don't even like changing ink cartridges. I'm usually scared to do it for fear, I'll mess something up.
I can turn on a computer and I can use it.
That's it.

I don't fix computer related stuff. That's ZooDad's job. He loves to mess with the computer. He gets all giddy about memory and RAM and all that. Unfortunately, he's off in places dry and sandy with more camels than we have cows.
Even more unfortunately, i have an error message. Something about a USB port being overloaded. I'm sure it is. I had three things plugged into the Macally thingie that's supposed to handle all my USB port dealies. One of which was my camera. The second of witch was my ipod. And the third of which was my freakin' printer.
All of which are now unusable since the USB port is overloaded. I can still take pictures and listen to music...I just can upload pictures or download music. And I can't print crap. So I own high tech paperweights until i can figure out the ISB port issue.

To use mistyped word from an old email list. ...."Wonderfuk!"

Creeping crud

All the inhabitants of the zoo have had a lung crud thing going on since Christmas. Mostly the baby, since he's the one with the most susceptible lungs.

But now it has spread to everyone, including me. I knew it was on the way yesterday when ZooDad remarked, "um....do you have a cold. You sound a bit froggy."
Froggy is an understatement. I sound like a regular swamp chorus.

So we cancelled speech therapy today in an effort to keep our germs as local as possible. Hopefully, the two involved parties will be well enough to attend therapy tomorrow and Thursday. Friday is co-op.
See...stuff goes on whether we want it to or not.

Thankfully, I had already planned for a day off today. Now we can sniffle, cough, and watch Curious George with no interruptions.