Telling it like it is?

I think I just may win the mama of the year prize for this one. The kids and I were grocery shopping and Lina was crossing the things off my list as we threw them in the buggy. I asked her to tell me what all was left. She read everything aloud, but then muttered "tampons" where only we could hear. Huck then said at his normal 25 decibels, "Oh yeah, those things you put in your coochie when you're on your period".

Nice.

My Redneck past is nipping at my heels

So, I'm doing my part in the lettuce, water and exercise thing by taking my power walk/jog on the gravel road on which 4 families (including mine), many goats, dogs, cats and chickens live. I often do this, and have done for lo, these many years. Apparently, the chickens have had enough of me.

I'm no stranger to chickens, having kept 17 of our own right here at Nestlewood. But all the stray dogs, weasels and fox around here polished them off for their morning or afternoon meals one by one, and we decided not to get anymore because Chris is a freak about the bird flu (don't ask).

There are always a couple of roosters who flap their wings at me while I walk and do their "Rrrr-rr-rrr-rrrrr". (Roosters do not say cocka doodle doo. I have no idea from whence this legend came) I always ignore the roosters because I know how they can be. They all have Little Man Syndrome, with the one who is not the dominant in the flock being especially touchy. He wants to prove his cockiness at every opportunity.

I am walking, and he crows at me, but I'm used to this. This time, just to be friendly and to let him know that I think he is just as manly as the rooster who is servicing all the hens up the gravel road, I said "Hi chick chick". Oh, my Mother Teresa in diamonds and fur!!! He came after my ass! He raised up his wings ( to get better aerodynamics I suppose) and ran his little rooster legs as fast as they would go. I started running full out, screaming and running! I'm halfway thinking about my Red Belt in Tung Soo Do and that surely I can take him out, but I'm just too scared to stop running and get into an effective front stance. Every time I would glance over my shoulder (while still running and screaming) that Mother Scratcher would still be chasing me!

Tomorrow, when I take my walk, I'm either taking a weapon or a stronger constitution.

As Granny used to say, "Shit or get off the pot."

Now that I am gainfully employed, I hereby declare there shall be no more excuses. I MUST reduce the square footage of my ass. I used all of my school and job angst as a handy dandy excuse to stop exercising. I went from running 10 miles per week and whaling hell out of my punching bag, to taking lots of naps and sitting on the couch as much as possible.

I done did what I shouldn't of done. I done got lazy. I've become a veritable Three Toed Sloth, the world's slowest mammal, so sedentary that algae grows on its furry coat.

Since the very thought of running makes me want to hang myself, I shan't do it. I shall, however, Power Walk with 10 lbs of weights strapped to my arms. It's a start.

Ick!

Cellulitis is an inflammation of the connective tissue underlying the skin, that can be caused by a bacterial infection.

I am the current unwilling host of the above condition. Inflammation, primordial ooze, swelling, all on my face. Yum! I went to the Dr. yesterday and he put me on an oral antibiotic and a couple of topical creams. Hopefully I will not be called on any job interviews while I look like the elephant man.

On a humorous note, it's really hard for my children to take any discipline seriously right now when it comes from me. I can put on my "stern mama" look and I can tell they aren't hearing a word I say, because they are focused on my ooze.

With apologies to HRM Queen of the Universe (who is one of them)

Dental hygienists are evil. OW OW OW! It's been a year since my last cleaning because my previous dentist stopped taking Blue Cross(???) and hardly anyone else accepts it around here either(???)I only just found another dentist.

I will admit it here, for you good people. I HATE to floss. Hate. To. Floss. I only do it about once a week, and boy, did I pay for it today at my cleaning. I laid in that chair being tortured for NINETY minutes. As in, an hour and a half. I bled so much that I think I need a transfusion! I've had tattoos done that hurt less than this cleaning!

And you know what she (the hygienist) said to me while she was torturing? Granted, she was smiling, but still...

"Bless your heart. I know this hurts, but it's your own fault."

How Southern is that? Poison dipped in honey.

Sniffing the Air

The flu is banished from Nestlewood. Lina is still coughing like crazy, but neither she nor Huck has had a fever since the wee hours of Friday morning. I’m allowing myself to be braindead today. I’m watching movies (I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Larry, and Disturbia. And, yes, I plan on watching them both today.) I am reading “Creation in Death” by JD Robb, and I am listening to my iPod while I stitch.

Pray with me, Forrest

Thumbelina has the flu now. Huck is better, thanks be, though he still has a low grade fever and is puny.
Lina on the same meds that Huck took, + breathing treatments when she needs them. She's cheerful and just ate some strawberries, and she hasn't barfed yet, knock on wood.
I have TWO exams today, and all I want to do is sleep,watch Heroes and cry.

Dark Circles Under Squinty Eyes

The dark circles and squinty eyes? Mine and Huck's. We get this genetic quirk from Mom. Sweet Bruhver has it too. When we are tired, or sick, our left eye is probably 45% smaller than our right eye.

Huck's fever was 103 night before last. I was sitting in the bathroom floor, holding him while he vomited. He slept between heaves, and doesn't even remember it. Lina has stayed with my parents the last couple of days, to keep her away from this. Since she has asthma, if this flu gets ahold of her, she will end up in the hospital. She came home this evening and my mommy radar went off when she went out on the back deck. I asked her what was up and she said that she wanted to go outside so that she could get a good deep breath. Breathing treaments, party of one...

I had an exam yesterday (Sunday, yes, I know, it's odd, but it's an online class) and I don't know how I did it, but I made an A. I have slept perhaps 2 1/2 minutes the past several days. I look like dung. I haven't shaved my legs or plucked my eyebrows, and when one is part gorilla, as apparently I am, that can be really ugly. And, not only did I not shave my legs in the shower, I didn't put any goop on my hair afterwards. Remember, I have naturally curly hair? If I don't put product on it after a shower, I look like Roseanne Roseannadanna. On crack. Even my mom thinks I look like Hell. I mentioned it to her yesterday, and she broke eye contact when she told me that I looked fine.

Huck is on the mend. His fever hasn't been higher than 100 today, thanks be. He's playing with Legos and asking for chocolate. Thumbelina hasn't needed another breathing treatment, but she's still coughing and is a little achy, but has a good appetite and just finished drawing a picture of a mom and baby unicorn with rainbow manes.

I know my son

Huck has the flu. We went to the doctor yestereve, and it has been confirmed. Last night he had tummy trouble, aches and a temp of 103, and it was not at all fun, for either of us. There is a relatively new medication called Tamiflu, that helps shorten the duration and severity. He's taking that and Advil and Tylenol, so he is able to cope, when the meds are working. When they wear off, he is miserable and angry and breaks my heart. (That's another funny thing about Huck, he takes it as a personal affront when his body betrays him and he gets sick. It makes him MAD.) As I said, I know my son.

He is a smart kid who doesn't like to go to school, so he is always thinking of ways to stretch out any random thing in order to stay home. Monday is President's Day, so he says that doesn't count as a missed school day, since he would get to stay home anyway. He has made up his mind that he is going to stay sick until Tuesday so that he can stay home that day too. I believe in the power of thought, so I think if he plans to stay sick, then he certainly will, so I have found a way around this. I told him that if he will do everything he can to get better; eat, drink, rest, take his meds, etc.., then I will let him stay home from school on Tuesday, even if he is perfectly fine.

This is quite the dangling carrot. So, without a murmur of protest, he is doing everything he can to get better. There is power in that.

I don't think you're ready for this jelly

I have gained about 10 pounds. And I think it looks FABULOUS on me! According to the laws of beauty today, I should be fighting to take it off, but I am not. I have TITS! I can no longer button the shirts I wore before! I am a full B cup and they jiggle when I walk and I actually need a sports bra when I exercise. I am curvalicious and I love it!

Speaking of Birthdays...

Yesterday morning I took a 3 mile walk, just because I could. Just because 8 years ago, my blood pressure was 170/123, I was post c-section and my newborn son was in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit on life support. He had a tube between his vocal chords, so that when he cried, no sound was able to be heard. He had a feeding tube in his tummy, so that my breast milk could reach him. This day, thanks be, both of us are healthy and strong. He's interested human anatomy and wanted to spend the day with his best friend. His room is a mess and he loves to eat sweets and drink root beer. What a blessing!

My Ass is Sore

And not for the reasons all you perverts think it is. It's sore because I started running and race walking again after a six week hiatus. My back fat is sore too, because I started fighting my punching bag again, after a six weeks hiatus. And my abs are sore too, for the same reasons.

That was a really fun six weeks. It was nice to wake up and just assume I was not going to exercise that day. Because I dread it. On workout days, I think of it almost as soon as I wake up, and sigh deeply and wish I didn't have to do it. See, by my very nature, I am a sit on the couch and watch DVDs kind of gal. I try not to get my heart rate up if I don't have to do so. So I hate making myself exercise. And I would like to say that once I start the process, it's fine and I enjoy it. But it would be a lie. When I take my first step in my run, I can't wait until I am done with it. When I start my first crunch, I start counting and can't wait until I get to 150 so that I can stop the pain. The walking part, I like. I love being out in the cool morning air and enjoying the winding, hilly country road. It's the running part and the climbing the hills part that I don't want to do. But it's those parts that firm up my wobbly bits, so...

The punching, I actually enjoy. This is the one exercise that I don't have to force myself to do. I LOVE to whale hell out of my punching bag. I like to kick it and elbow it and punch it and knee it and knife hand it and ridge hand it and upper cut it and back fist it. If I wouldn't tear it to shreds, I would love to get my sword after it.

Speaking of swords. I have been thinking about fencing. I think I would like that, and as far as exercising goes, it wouldn't feel like a chore. It would be fun to sword fight. But where the hell can I find a fencing team in rural Alabama? Actually, nowhere. I know, because I have looked. But I have found one in a city about 40 minutes away, and have contacted them. Maybe this will work.

Chris wants me to learn to belly dance. He bought me an outfit and a DVD and everything. So maybe I can start doing that instead of my crunches. There we go. Now, If only I can find something to replace the 40 minutes of running cardio, I can do things that I enjoy to keep my ass where it needs to be, instead of doing things that I dread to keep my ass where it needs to be.