Just Another Day In The Office

We had a fun weekend at La Casa Madden. On Saturday morning, after going through karate and swimming lessons, Cassie suddenly came down sick - temperature of 103 degrees, chills, sore throat, aches and pains. I promptly put the Princess to bed and babied her with juice, sherbet, Disney movies, whatever would keep her content while she rested. She puked once, all over the couch and herself, and complained of being cold and unable to sleep, but otherwise she was okay. Well, not **okay** okay -- she was looking pretty pale and scrawny -- but I knew with enough viewings of Beauty and the Beast, she'd live.

Cassie's illness sort of threw all our weekend plans into a tailspin, however. We missed her best buddy's birthday bowling party that afternoon, and I have heard nothing but, "But I wanted to go bowling!" and "I LOVE bowling!" ever since. Cassie doesn't even know what bowling is, but man she sure wanted to go to that party. Michael did get some house work done that he'd been planning, but since I spent so much time tending to Cassie, my plans to rapidly accomplish my work went down the tubes real quick. Tasks that should have taken an hour tops took five. I just couldn't concentrate when all I could hear is this tiny, whiny little voice in the background going, "But I LOVE bowling!" Mary, if you're reading this, we are taking the kids bowling SOON. Otherwise I may just have to throw myself through a window to escape that sound.

So I was all discombobulated as usual this weekend... the weekend that I had to proof my final novel galley, the weekend that I had to do up promo materials for a convention I'm headed off to in a few days, the weekend I had hoped would go so smoothly. Nothing new. Just another day in the office.

Work-At-Home Mom Versus The Sick Baby

I had such a wonderful time last weekend. I left Michael and the kids on Friday and drove to Richmond for RavenCon. Talk about having some fun! I spent the entire weekend volunteering for the convention, a job that mainly consisted of me sitting in on discussion panels and filling out little forms on how good said panels were. I got to listen to discussions on costuming, podcasting, art, computer graphics, and web comics... all those geeky topics that yours truly just LUVS! And I got to meet an erotica writer friend of mine, Nobilis. Like me, Nobilis writes speculative fiction erotica (i.e. sci-fi and fantasy porn). Unlike me, Nobilis is tall. Freakishly tall, even. How tall was he? He was so tall that I never did see his face, but I could describe his belly button lint in detail. That's pretty frikkin' tall, folks.

But aside from the crick I got in my neck from having to look up all the time to talk to Nobilis, I had a great time. I also got to meet the world famous writer Mur Lafferty, Paul Fischer and Martha Holloway of the ADD Cast, and tons of other people I only know through my iPod or via the internet. And I stayed up late, really late! Way past bedtime late! And did I mention I actually got to talk to some other adults about things other than potty training and the hazards of preschool? So it felt like I sort of had a real life for two and a half days.

Then I came back home. Which was good, because I started jonesing for Michael and the kids after my first hour at RavenCon. I missed them soooooooo much. Cassie and Sam didn't see me at first when I came in - they were engrossed in a Barbie movie -- but as soon as they saw me they both jumped up shrieking and laughing and... ah, who the hell am I kidding? Cassie gave me a brief glance and said, "Hi Mama." Sam saw me and immediately held out her arms and wailed. "Pick up! Pick up!" And once I did pick her up, and I wasn't allowed to put her down again for twenty hours or so.

Turns out there was a reason for Sam's fussiness. She had a low grade fever with a small rash on Sunday, which jumped up to a full-grade fever with more rash on Monday, which transformed to Bubonic Plague on Tuesday. I should have known something was up when Sam didn't wake up until 11AM on Monday morning. No kidding, that baby slept waaaaaaaaaaay past her normal wake-up time, which meant I also slept until 11AM because there was no way after having so much fun that I could crawl out of bed before noon, only I had to because Sam woke up at 11AM.

But that was Monday morning. Tuesday morning Sam was up at 6ish, vomiting. By 9ish we were at the doctor's, who by 10ish told me that Sam had a fever (knew that) and the rash was probably a reaction to a virus (knew that too). Sam tested negative for strep, Bubonic Plague, and the Insidious Ear Infection, so we went home for lunch. On the way there, I stopped to pick up some groceries - rice, bannanas, ginger ale, all the stuff that sick babies should eat. Sam of course slept through this part of the trip, so I had to lug her around in my arms while I shopped. If I have biceps like Ahnold's, you know why. She woke up when we got home and had a temperature of over 102, which was up considerably from the doctor's office. We thus spent the rest of the afternoon watching Dora and fussing non-stop. Around 4PM we went to pick up Cassie from preschool. Once again Sam fell asleep in the car and she was so out of it that she actually stayed asleep when I brought her in (this NEVER happens in real life). Michael came home and took Cassie to karate while I spent the rest of the afternoon either in the our bed with a screaming Sam or in the glider trying to accomplish some work.

Ah, work. After RavenCon and meeting all those other writers/podcasters/artists, I was so psyched to get back to work. I wanted to create, man! And I am quite certain now that my urge to create corellates directly with Sam's fever. The more I want to work, the sicker she gets. By 8PM last night, Sam had a temperature of 103.6. We gave her a dose of Motrin and some Benedryl to help her sleep. By 5AM this morning, her temperature was up to 103.8. After dosing her again and getting her back to bed, I was wiped out, so we all slept late again this morning, though not as late as 11AM. Except for Sam, who did sleep as late as 11AM.

And today's work? Cancelled, naturally. Wednesday is Cassie's day home, so I've done nothing but ride the exercise bike, run some laundry, fix lunch, and watch a butt-load of Dora the Explorer. Around 2PM I dosed Sam with some more Benedryl and Motrin. She fights taking the medicine, but I've found that if I pry her mouth open with one finger and use a syringe to squirt the stuff into her mouth, I can get the medicine into her. I've done this twice and am proud to say that I still have eight fingers left.

So not much accomplished this week after an invigorating, inspiring weekend of creative thought. Except for the below cartoon. Hey, I had to do something fun today...

Just When I Thought It Was Safe - Blergh!

After Sam and I had our bouts with the stomach flu, Michael came home early on Friday and announced he was setting up office in the bathroom. I thought he was just joking. I mean, I knew he meant **he** now had the stomach flu, and therefore would be spending a lot of time in the bathroom, but I didn't realize he was actually going to be **working** in there at the same time.

The man actually took a phone in there and his laptop, set them on the edge of the tub, and listened in on a teleconference while he puked his guts up in the toilet. Of course, he kept the phone on mute except for when he needed to answer a question, but my god. Working AND puking at the same time? I was so sick on Valentine's Day I couldn't roll over in bed without puking, so I put Sam (my work) in her crib for two hours just so she would stop climbing on me and I wouldn't end up puking on her. She cried the whole time, but hey, she didn't need **my** lunch all in **her** hair. And I didn't get out of bed until late the next morning. But Michael was actually doing this teleconference, answering questions and everything. That's commitment for you. Commitment to an asylum!

Cassie came down with the stomach flu the next day, just as Michael was recovering. Actually, she ran into our bedroom at 3AM saying, "Mommy, my tummy hurts! Blergh!" I got her to a bathroom just in time. She spent the rest of the night vomiting and tossing and turning. I had to put her in our room on an air mattress and keep a bucket on hand. Every fifteen minutes, I had to hold it for her so she could heave into it. She seemed much better later that day, and waaaaaaay better on Sunday (yesterday). So much better that Michael fed her a cheese sandwich and grapes and all sorts of goodies.

All of which she promptly projectile vomited across the dining room at dinner last night.

I swear, it looked like someone turned on a fire hose inside that kid. She covered the entire table. We had to take everything off and wash it. Michael made the mistake of thinking the silverware in the dishwasher was actually clean and put it back in the silverware drawer, only to find out that no, that was stuff I had just taken off the table and it had some puke on it. So we had to wash ALL the silverware. And we had to throw out everyone's dinner. Not that it was the greatest dinner I've ever made (new recipe didn't quite work out as I had hoped) but we've all been sick so we're all starving right now. Ah, throwing out the egg rolls was the worst part. I didn't even get to finish mine.

So now Cassie is in bed again today, on a very strict, very simple diet. Her 5th birthday is tomorrow, and I do not want her to get sick again. I've got party planning and shopping to do and Michael leaves town tomorrow, so her being sick another day would a) be a sucky way to celebrate her birthday, and b) really screw up the party preparation. Plus it would kill yet another work day for me, and I've lost a week already to this damned flu.

Here's hoping everyone keeps their dinner down tonight, because last night was the scariest vomit I've ever seen and I don't want to see it again anytime soon!

Blergh!

Yea Verily, I Have Been Puked Upon

Sam came down with the stomach flu on Tuesday. I had no idea she was sick until we pulled into the preschool parking lot to pick up Cassie. Before I could get her out of the car seat, Sam started vomiting. That kid ate a lot of grapes for lunch.

So Sam puked all over the car seat and herself. Took me fifteen minutes to clean her up enough to go into the preschool and get Cassie. Thankfully, I had a change of clothes and a lot of wipes in the diaper bag. When we got home, she puked again, right outside the front door. She got herself, the sidewalk, and me. I kept dancing around as she puked going, "Not on mommy's suede shoes, please!" After that, it was puke off and on all evening. I spent most of the evening on the couch wearing a bath towel so Sam could lean over and puke on me as needed. Once we got past the first three pukes, she quit bringing up sour milk and grapes and just brought up a lot of spit and bile. Poor kid.

Sam is mostly recovered today, except for the occasional messy diaper (yick!). But wouldn't you know it, I spent most of yesterday in bed with... you guessed it, the stomach flu. The first signs hit me around 5AM when I got up to do some work on the podcast. Then I had some more tummy rumblings around 8AM. Decided to forgo the exercise and went shopping instead for Valentine's Day gifts. By noon, I was home puking in the bucket. So much for Valentine's Day.

I swear that's like the fourth holiday in a row that I've spend sick in bed. I hope I don't come down with anything really nasty for my birthday next week.

Blergh!

Still Kicking

So I'm still sort of hanging onto the blogosphere by my fingernails. It's calmed down a bit around here, but I'm still juggling a few things, which is why I don't post so often. It occurs to me that it was much easier to post when Sam nursed twelve times a day, because then I was spending a lot more time sitting the glider with the laptop pulled up to me while I fed her. Sam only nurses 2-3 times a day now, though, so I no longer have that mandatory sit-in-front-of-the-computer-so-I-don't-go-crazy-while-nursing-the-baby-time anymore.

Both Michael and Sam are sick. I'm fighting to keep Cassie and me from getting whatever creeping crud they have. I'm so tired of trying to work around someone being sick. On Wednesday I had to take Cassie to the doctor for a check up. Every time I go, I have to initial a privacy statement. They give me the same paper each time, with a new date stamped on the bottom where I'm supposed to initial. I took a look at how many times I'd been in the doctor's office with Cassie since August and I nearly fell over. Since June I've brought Cassie in seven times. And that's just Cassie. I've also had quite a few appointments for Sam as well. And I've been to see my own doctor on two occasions during that time period. Why the hell can't we stay out of the doctor's office?

Every time one of the kids gets sick, it kills my exercise schedule. I've been trying to go to the day time classes at the karate dojo. Normally, I pack up some toys and a snack for Sam and I let her play on the side in a play pen while I take class. But I can't go if either she or Cassie are sick, and I won't go if I'm sick, so I've missed a lot of classes over the last few months. I'm feeling the effects too. We had a test Thursday night, and even though I wasn’t testing, I was reviewing, and man did I feel shaky on a lot of things. I'm having the same problem just getting into the gym. I can't go if I've got a sick kid. The nursery won't take 'em. Yet it seems to me that Sam always, ALWAYS gets sick within a week of me returning to the gym. I suspect it's because someone else is bringing in their sick kid and just infecting the rest of the population. I'd like to catch the parents that do that sort of thing and slap the crap out of them. Really I would.

But anyway, I took this review Thursday night, and I was dragging. Michael was sick, Sam was sick, I haven't been in class or to the gym much, and my interest in karate has been pretty low. I had to force myself to go to the test, and when I got there I wasn't happy. Usually Michael and I get a sitter for the kids and we go together so it's like a date (yeah, I know, a really weird date where we beat each other up), but he was sick so I had to go alone. Whine, whine, whine. And I went through the test, wondering what I was doing there. I just didn't feel like I could hang, you know? I did not have my act together, and I hate feeling like that. There's nothing that annoys me more than to see a black belt who can't do their katas properly or keep up with the rest of the class. That's a lazy black belt, and I realized that's what I had become. Lazy.

I can't just blame everything on the kids being sick. If I wanted to, I could have found a way to fit in the practice time and the class time. In fact, I have. After hearing my instructor complain about having the play pen in the dojo, I got kind of pissed. It's a lot of work for me to show up to that day time class, what with having to feed Sam right before we go, and then packing toys and a snack and some juice, and then having to set up that damned play pen (it's a bear to unfold), and then I get to go through class gritting my teeth every time she makes a noise because I know the instructor expects her to be quiet, but she's only 18 months old, for pete's sake. And so after his complaining, I kind of went on a tear about how hard it is for me to even get there and how I'm sick of missing classes and I realized that the afternoon classes weren't even all that challenging anymore anyway so why was I going? I mean, I don't even break a sweat when I'm there and that's not good.

At some point, in the middle of this rant (which my poor husband had to listen to), I realized that if I wanted to change things, I was going to have to CHANGE things. In other words, I was going to have to drop the afternoon classes and start going to the evening classes instead. It's the perfect solution. Michael stays home in the evenings, so I don't have to take bring in Sam. If he's watching the kids, I don't have to worry about missing class because one of them is sick (although if I'm sick, forget it - I'm still not going). I can still take the same amount of classes if I double up one of the evenings I go and take a regular class along with that evening's specialty class (black belt training or weapons training). Yeah, it would be perfect.

Except that my lazy ass didn't want to do it.

Why? The evening classes are harder, for starters. The daytime classes are filled with older students who have various injuries (like me with my bum knees). The evening classes are mostly younger students. They're also run by some really tough instructors, one of whom used to run the daytime class (back when it was a kick-ass class to take). And they spar a lot more in the evening classes. Sparring is hard work, let me tell you. It's not only potentially painful if you get hit (and I know because I've had some ribs broken, plus both knees, plus my nose), but it's also very aerobically demanding. In fact, an evening of sparring is just plain frickin' exhausting.

But that's what I want, right? Tougher classes, more time in class, a chance to feel like I'm worth my black belt?

My lazy ass started making excuses right away. "I have two bad knees -- what if I get injured while sparring?" "I haven't taken classes regularly in ages -- what if I can't keep up?" And my favorite... "But if Michael and I both take evening classes, we'll never get to see each other any more!"

Whine, whine, whine. All this was sitting at the forefront of my little pea-brain during the review Thursday night. Then the instructor called me out on the floor with a group of brown belts to do some kata. Except I didn't get to line up with them. Instead, he told me, "Sensei Helen, you stand back there, a little separate from the group. You're going to do something different."

And that's when it hit me. Yeah, I get to do something different. I was the only black belt there that night, the only one who knew the black belt katas, the only one who was going to look killer doing the higher level stuff. And man, did that turn me on.

And I did do well. Fortunately, I have managed to squeeze in some practice time, and I looked good, doing MY kata while everyone else did something else. And it was a long kata too, which meant long after everyone else had finished up, I was still going, with everyone watching me.

I'm such a frikkin' show off.

But it worked. I suddenly found my motivation to go back to evening classes. I like doing karate. I like that I do something different from most of my friends, that I do something HARD. I worked to earn my black belt, and I remember how Michael and I just about tore each other up during our black belt test, and how people to this day still come up to us and say, "Man, I remember that test. I thought you two were going to kill each other. That was so cool!"

So next week, I start evening classes again. I already told my instructor, and he's very happy about that. He wants me back on a regular schedule, and I want that to.
Speaking of which, my blogging time is up. Time to go wake up the rest of the family. See ya later.

So I Fell Off The Blogosphere...

I'm not even sure if I'll get this entry written and posted, but I've been gone for more than two months, and I thought I should explain.
Hell with that. Explaining takes too long. Let me sum up.
My folks visited for the week of Halloween. Cassie refused to wear the Hermione Granger costume Grandma bought. Sam refused to wear anything.

I've been working like crazy on my podcast, Heat Flash. Several of the stories have shown up on the ERWA's story galleries, so I know the writing is good. I wonder if the podcast is good too.
Sam, Cassie and I keep giving each other some sort of near-lethal upper-respiratory infection. I'm on antibiotics right now, and am so fed up with being sick I'm just blowing off the whole week. I'm doing the work I have to do, but have opted to skip going to karate and the gym and doing anything else. Did I mention that I have a pinched nerve in my neck as well?

I've decided getting up at 4AM in the morning is not feasible at this time. Yeah, I get a lot of work done, but it's almost like being in an entirely different time zone from the rest of the family. Nobody else wakes up that early, and nobody else goes to bed as early as I need to in order to get up the next morning. So I haven't been seeing Michael at all. Plus, with being sick so much, I've gotten out of the habit. I'm resetting my clock for a more reasonable time, still letting me get up early enough to work on the podcast before the kids wake up, but not so early that I might as well be in Englad, you know?

Michael cleaned the office over the garage, which means there's now room enough for both of us in there. It looks very nice, and I am actually considering moving back in. The biggest problem I have with it though is that my computer in there runs on Windows 2000, and some of my software doesn't work on an OS that old. So I need to update my OS. Plus, that computer doesn't have a DVD drive, which means it can't read any of the disks I've stored all my old files on. Michael is toying with the idea of building me a new computer. He bought a $100 case for $10 the other night. I only hope he doesn't junk up the office again in the process. That would kind of defeat the purpose, you see.

Sam is running, playing, laughing, giggling, and dancing all the time. She climbs on everything, including the coffee table, and gets into everything, like Michael's papers in the roll top desk. The roll top broke, with the top half disappearing into the back of the desk. We keep the bottom half down, but Sam has figured out how to pull out the chair, climb onto it, and reach over the remaining roll top to get Michael's papers. Not good. Kid's too damn clever for her own good.

Cassie is growing like a weed. In fact, I'd almost say she's freakishly tall. She's doing pretty good in preschool, and in karate class too. She keeps begging me to get her sparring gear so she can join the Power Kids class. So guess what she's getting for Christmas? Don't tell her though. I'm having a hard time imagining my freakishly tall four-year-old sparring with the older kids. My baby's growing up so fast!

John turned 40 the other day. Ha ha! You're older than dirt John! I just had to say that.

And I've got a ton of work to do. E-book covers, podcasting, stories to write, a book to outline, an image to finish up for a contest. Baby is screaming right now, so I'll wrap this up.

Hope I don't fall off the blogosphere again.

The Litany of Things Gone Wrong

It would not be life if things didn't go wrong. Here's the skinny on what's up - or rather, down - at the Madden household.

Two weeks prior to Fantasci 6, the entire family came down with the creeping crud (actual scientific name for unknown upper respiratory infection we all had).

The day after Fantasci 6, the entire family came down with the cousin of the creeping crud, an all new yet strangely familiar upper respiratory disease with bonus symptoms (i.e. Cassie puked at school).

The sedan kept stalling on Michael, forcing him to take it in to be serviced. The diagnosis? A fried alternator that needed to be replaced to the tune of a couple hundred dollars.

Our oven died, and was replaced to the tune of $500.

A sensor in the front driver's side wheel of our SUV went wonky (again, another actual scientific term) and had to be replaced. To the tune of $440. As an added bonus, Sam and I got to spend two whole hours in the Saturn dealership waiting for this to be fixed. Yea!

Yesterday, everyone but me came down sick with the mother of the cousin of the creeping crud (and yes, that really is its scientific disease name). Sam can barely breathe, which makes breastfeeding fun. She's also been using my shirt as a hanky. Eeeew. Michael is so congested, he's walking around in a daze. Cassie hasn't succumbed to it yet, but she's coughing and wheezing, so it's only a matter of time. Me? I'm disinfecting the crap out of everything, including my nipples once Sam's done breastfeeding. And I may just burn my shirt from today...

So how are things in your neck of the woods?

How Not To Enjoy Blow-Off Day

Michael's been away on a business trip all week, so you know what that means. After a week of struggling with two kids on my own, Friday arrives and with it comes Blow Off Day, the day where I do absolutely nothing but what I want to do, outside of taking care of the kids.

It should have been a breeze. My plan was to get up extra early and blow some fun time on computer graphics. Then I would wake up Cassie, get her dressed and fed and dropped off at preschool. Then Sam and I would head out for a nice lazy walk. Then we would head out for the morning. First stop, the hospital to pick up copies of my last mammogram (yep, coming up on time to get the boobs ironed out). Second stop, Barnes and Nobles because I have a coupon burning a hole in my pocket. I thought we might look through some manga and cook books and whatever else caught my eye. I'd have a frou-frou coffee with extra whipped cream (the baristas always give me extra whipped cream when they see Sam because they think she's so cute). Then I'd hit the toy store and pick up a small gift for the party Cassie is going to tomorrow. All of that would be followed by a trip home, during which Sam would fall soundly asleep. I'd carry her to her crib, lay her down, and sneak off to do some more fun stuff on my computer. I'd pick Cassie up from preschool around 4 PM. At home, the kids could enjoy cartoons while I whipped together a quick dinner. We'd eat, pop in a movie (we only watch TV on Fridays and Saturdays around here, so yeah, Friday is a big day for the boob tube), and head up for bath and bed around 7 PM. After stories, both kids would be in bed by 8 PM, 8:30 PM tops, and I would have the rest of the evening to myself.

Yeah, that was how the plan was supposed to work. Here's what really happened.

I got up early, just like I planned and spent some quality time with my graphics programs. I put together a really nice graphic for the podcast I'm starting up next month. I puttered away on my laptop happily until 6:25 AM, and then went to wake up Cassie to get her ready for school.

Only to discover that her right eye was glued shut by greenish-yellow goop. Twenty minutes later, when I had finally soaked away the last of the super-goop, I discovered my child had pink eye.

You know that put a kink in my plans.

I can't take Cassie to preschool when she's got pink eye, so I called the school to let them know she'd be staying home today. No biggie, I can still enjoy Blow Off Day with both kids. Of course, I'd have to take Cassie to the doctor, and to do that I'd have to make an appointment...

Since the doctor's office doesn't open until 9 AM, I had to delay my walk. I let Cassie watch some TV while she ate a waffle and I went back to work on my computer graphic. It was really turning out beautifully. I decided to let Sam sleep, since we weren't going anywhere until after I called the doctor. When she finally woke up around 8 AM, I pried myself away from my graphics program and fed her breakfast. Then I let her wander around the living room, destroying everything she could get her hands on while I went back to my computer graphic. Cassie continued to nibble at her waffle and watch the Wiggles with one eye glued shut again.

At 9 AM, I made the call to the doctor's office and spent fifteen minutes on hold. When I got through, I was told I could have an appointment that afternoon at 2:30 PM. Great. That would be right smack-dab in the middle of Sam's nap. But Cassie has pink eye so I had to take it. I hung up the phone and started herding kids upstairs to get dressed. The afternoon was shot but I could still make it to Barnes and Nobles and enjoy browsing through books.

Unfortunately, we didn't exactly hustle. For various reasons, we didn't make it out of the house until 10:30 AM. No problem, though, I could still get in a short trip before lunch, and then put Sam down for a short nap so I could have some quiet time. Cassie could read in her room while I went back to work on my graphics. Right before we hit the parking lot of B&N, I remembered I was supposed to pick up my mammogram films, so I had to keep going and circle around to the hospital. Not a huge trip, but it did eat away that much more time from my book browsing.
At this point, Cassie started complaining of being hungry. "We'll get something to eat at the book store," I said, envisioning us all smiling as we shared a cheese-stuffed herb pretzel and I happily sipped my frou-frou coffee. "But I don't want to eat at the book store, Mommy. I want to eat at Wendy's."

"Wendy's?"

"It's my favoritest place in the whole world!"

We debated the advantages of the B&N café versus Wendy's all the way through the hospital and back out again. We were still debating it as we headed into the bookstore. Sam started to fuss. I gamely tried to pick out a cook book while Cassie went on and on about Wendy's and Sam's complaints about being stuck in the stroller grew louder. Then Cassie said she really needed to go to the children's section of the bookstore, so we went. I thought maybe the kids would get engrossed with the train table and I'd get to look at the cookbooks I'd picked out at random. Instead, I spent most of my time chasing after Sam as she ran amok in the kid's section, yanking books and toys off the shelves. We didn't stay very long (although somehow I did manage to pick out one cookbook and use my coupon; I hope I bought a good book...).

Upon leaving the bookstore, Cassie immediately announced that it was now time to go to Wendy's. Since I obviously wasn't getting any frou-frou coffee now anyway, I relented. It was close to home, so why not. We headed back across town, found the Wendy's and I enjoyed what had to be the absolute cheapest meal of my life. I can't really eat the food at Wendy's - the burgers give me heartburn - so all I ever get is the baked potato and chili from the value menu. Cassie and Sam seemed to enjoy their meals though, so at least someone was happy with the cuisine.

After lunch, we went home and played outside for a while. Sam was thrilled with this. She'd had enough of the car for the day and was anxious to stretch her fat little legs. Too bad we only had 30 minutes before we had to head out for Cassie's doctor's appointment. Oh, the screaming we had when I put Sam back into her car seat. And the thrashing too. Kid nearly knocked me on my butt in the driveway. Somehow, I managed to get her strapped in and we all took off again. Sam's screaming sounds a lot like a police siren, so we made good time as other cars pulled off the road ahead of us.

We spent an hour and a half at the doctor's office, most of that in the waiting room. I had expected to spend much longer there, but I guess they were having a quiet day. My diagnosis of pink eye was confirmed and the physician's assistant prescribed an antibiotic. It was at this point I remembered that I still had to get a toy for the party Cassie is going to tomorrow. Naturally, the toy store is on the exact opposite end of town from our pharmacy. Could the doctor's office call in the prescription for me, so I could pick it up on my way home? Of course they could! Thinking I had just made life easier on myself, I took the kids back out to the car and headed for the toy store.

By now, Sam was getting seriously pissed. She'd missed her nap and had been stuck in the car seat most of the day. When she wasn't in the car seat, she was in my arms to prevent her from trashing whatever location we happened to be visiting at the time. She screamed all the way over to the toy store and...

Fell asleep. I had to carry that little lump all through the toy store, and man was she heavy. I also had to argue with Cassie over what to get her little friend for the birthday party. Personally, I can only afford to spend so much on birthday gifts, especially since all of Cassie's classmates seem intent on inviting everyone in the class whenever a birthday rolls around. The present buying thing gets expensive, you know?

Cassie eventually found a toy horse set that fell within my price range. After paying for it, we headed off to the pharmacy. I had this plan (again with the plans; you think I'd learn by now) to pick up Cassie's prescription, rush home, turn on the cartoons, and whip together a quick dinner just like I'd planned. We'd all relax after running around all day and maybe even have time to play.

That plan went to hell in a hand basket when I got to the pharmacy and was told I'd have to wait another 30 minutes to get my prescription. It had been called in, but they were busy, so that was that. It turned out to be an hour long wait in the end, during which time I once again chased both kids around the store, trying to prevent them from breaking anything. Cassie started to complain about being hungry again, so I bought a ginger ale and a granola bar and the three of us split that while we waited. When we finally got the prescription, we headed home. By now Sam was furious about being stuffed in the car seat again, and not only did regular cars pull over as we drove, but so did a police car as well. At least we made good time on the drive.

Well, I did manage to get dinner out quickly. I had cooked chicken stew the day before, so all I had to do was heat it up again and serve it. Neither Sam nor Cassie wanted the stew though, and that started the nightly food wars up again. I did cave to Sam and let her have some baby raviolis, but only because they're so easy to fix. With Cassie, I finally had to turn off the TV and tell her no more cartoons until she'd eaten her dinner.

"How many bites?" she asked me.

"All of it," I said.

"But how many bites is that?"

"All of it means you eat every bit of food on that plate, young lady."

"But I can't do that! I don't want stew!"

"Well too bad, because I'm not cooking you anything else. You either eat the stew or you go to bed. TV is not coming on until you've cleared your plate."

And so on and so on... That particular argument lasted for over half an hour. I let Cassie sit at the table and whine over her stew while I finished eating and then went on to do my evening chores. I told her once I was done with the chores, her plate was going away and she was going to bed. Did she listen? Did she even attempt to finish her stew? Nooooooooooo. She sat and whined and cried and pouted and then threw a screaming fit when I finally came for her plate. Oh well.

Cassie did calm down in time to get a bedtime story. Sam sat through one board book and then tried to mug me for breast milk. I made her wait while I read to Cassie. Then we did our usual bedtime routine of rounding up monsters (we give them to Cassie to eat before she goes to sleep) and saying good night. Well, I said good night. Cassie said, "Mommy, I need someone to stay with me tonight!" This is her latest delaying technique. I always answer with, "I'll be right down the hallway if you need me. Good night sweetie." Then I walk out of the room. We've done this often enough lately that Cassie no longer cries when I leave.

After getting Cassie down, I tried to nurse Sam. She was more interested in chewing on my nipple than in nursing, so she went to bed early too. She screamed all the while as I worked on this blog entry, but now she's quiet. It's 8:30 PM. I finally have the house to myself. I'm dead tired and the only thing I got done that I had planned to do was my graphic for my podcast. Everything else just got derailed. I'm so pissed. I hate it when Blow Off Day gets screwed like that. Maybe I should try again next Friday. We'll see.

Anyway, Michael will be home later tonight. Once he's home, he gets the girls all weekend. I'm going to be busy working at Fantasci 6 this weekend, handing out brochures and promotional materials for EPIC. Should be fun.

The Mad Month Of June In Review

Usually, when I don't post much, it means there's so much going on I don't have time to sit down and breathe, let alone blog. This past month has been just such a case. So to quote Innago Montoya, "Let me explain... No, no that would take too long. Let me sum up..."

2 June - Sam's first birthday.

9 June - Michael's birthday (all I gave him was a CD because...)

9 June - the same day as Michael's birthday is also the deadline for the Erotica Readers and Writers Association theme week this month. And the theme was speculative fiction erotica, and there's no way in hell I'm missing that particular theme (they liked my story, by the way, and will be publishing it on their website next month. More details later). Of course, the writing came in the midst of...

24 April to present - picked up some actual paying work that is eating up all my free time!

15 June - Cassie's first karate belt test. She was so cute! Hiya! Pictures later, I promise.

17 June - Father's day. Michael got a picnic, my Dad got nothing, nadda, zip (see note above about having paying work which eats up all my free time).

19 June - our 14th wedding anniversary. I spent the evening at home feeding dinner to the kids. Michael spent the evening at the dojo getting ready for...

21 June - our 2nd degree black belt test! Which left us so exhausted that we barely made it to...

23 June - our next door neighbor's wedding, which was followed by...

24 June - Sam and Cassie come down with a cold.

25 June - I come down with a cold. One of my cats is also very, very ill, so I take him to the vet. Now I have to keep him in the garage and feed him food with crushed up pills in it six times a day, which is a lot of work, but it beats cleaning up cat diarrhea six off the carpet six times a day.

27 June - my cold is now a sinus infection. I am so dead tired...

And that is a quick review of the month of June in the Madden household. Now you know everything, so go to bed!

A Letter To My Husband Who Went To Disney World On A

Michael left on Sunday for a software conference held at Disney World. I stayed home all week with a cranky pre-schooler and a baby sick with an ear infection. I sent my loving spouse the following e-mail on Wednesday. I never did get a reply.

***

Dearest darling husband of mine,

Woke up at 5AM this morning to sound of crying. Youngest child wanted milk. Nursed her in bed. Discovered overnight she had become a furnace. Took her temp to confirm it. Temp was 104 degrees. Nursed her again for another hour. Came downstairs. Found cat poop. Cleaned cat poop. Oldest child came downstairs. Wanted milk. Went into kitchen. Discovered suspicious smell in kitchen area coming from baby. Found poop all over baby, all over saucer chair, all over kitchen floor. Surprisingly little poop actually in baby's diaper. Cleaned baby, saucer chair and kitchen floor. Finally had breakfast.

Called pediatrician and made appointment. Took a bath with kids in the bathroom to keep them out of trouble. No fun had by anyone. Too much yelling and toilet paper flinging. Got dressed. (oldest child miraculously dressed herself). Nursed baby, who fell asleep. Woke baby up to go to pediatrician. Eldest child screamed all the way there because I didn't have time to get her a drink before we left. Spent all morning in doctor's office to find out baby has an ear infection and is cranky as hell. Went to pharmacy to drop off perscription. Went across town to Wendy's because eldest insisted Wendy's is much better than Tropical Smoothie place. Got lunch, drove back to pharmacy. Got perscription. Came home. Sat down to eat lunch. Heard a series of wet explosions. Had to check baby and foyer. Baby was clean, foyer was not. Cleaned carpet again. Cleaned macaroni off of baby. Sent oldest to play in her room (where she is miraculously staying for the time being). Nursed baby to sleep. Going to work now. Will eat pizza tonight because it's easy and I'm beat. Will probably post this whole e-mail as a blog entry because I'm too damned tired to write anything else original today.

Love,

Your wife, Helen

***

Michael got home yesterday. However, I still haven't gotten enough sleep to realize this fact and celebrate properly by sending him out with both kids to get me coffee and a bagel. I'm so tired.

The Difference Between One Child And Two

I definitely do things differently now that I've got two kids to worry about. Here are a few examples.

Breakfast - Cassie got fed oh so carefully. She ate only baby food, jars and jars of fruit, rice cereal, oatmeal. It was all carefully prepared for her tender little digestive tract. These days with Sam, I just cut up some fresh fruit and toss it on her tray. I used to feed Cassie with a spoon from her own bowl. I don’t do that with Sam. She and I share the same spoon, which is probably why she and I are sharing the same cold. Sam, or Spoonie Baloonie as I like to call her, has a nasty tendency to grab the spoon from me and fling it across the room. This is also the reason why I don't bother feeding her baby food anymore.

Clothing - Cassie had 50 million little frilly pink outfits, all purchased by Grandmama. Sam has a handful of little shorts outfit (again, all from grandma because I’m too busy to shop for kids clothing). She wears them occasionally. Most of time, Sam runs around naked except for her diaper. I think she likes it better that way. I know it's a lot less work for me.

Nursing - I recorded every breast-feeding I did with Cassandra up until she was about a year old. With Sam, I lasted until she was about six months old. I just didn't have time to write down which side, how long she nursed, and what time of day she did it. I know when she's nursing, trust me. She bites every time she latches on.

Illnesses - I used to worry every time Cassandra had a sniffle. She spent so much time with the thermometer up her butt, I think she thought it was an extra appendage that I let her wear on special occasions. I called the doctor every time her temperature rose above a hundred. I don’t do any of that with Sam. I don't even take the temperature is she’s got a sniffly snotty running nose. I just keep her away from other kids as much as I can so we don’t spread the creeping crud. I definitely do not take her temperature that often, and I certainly don’t call the doctor every time she has a cold. If I did, I would have to pay my pediatrician rent, because we'd be living in her waiting room.

Cleaning - I sanitized everything around Cassandra. We had a special bottle steamer to clean her bottles and sippy cups. I would wash them by hand and then run them through the microwave with this stupid little steamer. Not with Sam. The bottles get run through the dishwasher. I ain't doing anything by hand. I don't have time. I also don't bother sanitizing a lot of her stuff, because guess what? Her sister is going to bring home every germ known to mankind from her preschool. What can I say? It'll toughen Sam up, if it doesn't kill her.

Bathing - Cassie took baths in this little baby bathtub, up until she was about 13 months and she was finally too big to fit into it. Sam’s been bathing in the regular bathtub for about the past three or four months. She just got too squirmy to sit safely in the baby tub. She kept trying to crawl out of it, which wasn’t too safe since I kept the tub on the bathroom counter. She seems to like the bigger tub though and I don't mind it either. I can sit in the bathroom and read or doodle while she splashes around water for a few minutes. Hey, it's one way of getting a little bit of time.

Schedules - I used to worry about keeping Cass on a schedule. I had everything planned, from her naps to spending half an hour outside every day. I don’t worry so much about Sam. Frankly, it's exhausting trying to run a schedule around a child's needs. I'm not nearly as strict about Sam's schedule as I was with Cassie’s, which is kind of funny because naptime is about the only time I get to work. But I’ve made myself more flexible in terms of how I do work. For instance, using the digital voice recorder to record blog entries and story ideas. Also being able to sit at the laptop and type while nursing has been a big help. I’ve found lots of little ways to squeeze in work.

There are other differences I've noticed, too. I guess I just don't worry as much with Sam as I did with Cassandra. Not because I've gotten lazy but because I simply learned it's much more fun to relax and enjoy what's going on. So Sam sits in the grass in the grass while I practice karate and she ends up eating two handfuls of the lawn. It's not going to kill her, and if I find half a bug in her mouth instead of no bug I'm not going to worry about that either. Hey, it’s protein. Just as long as she doesn't get into any cat diarrhea, I'll be happy.

Okay, maybe I do have something to worry about after all.

Its Blow Off Day Again, I Think.

I can't quite decide if today is Blow Off Day or not. Both Sam and I have been sick for the past few days, nothing serious like the flu, but I’ve got this nagging cold with hideous sinus pressure that’s been beating away at my skull, and it just refuses to let up. It’s not a nasty beating some like having your butt kicked by Bruce Lee. It's more like having a three-year-old pound at your head with a whiffle bat for about five or six hours on end. It's annoying and it's frustrating and you really can't get it to stop no matter how many times you try to take away the bat. Plus I’ve got a back ache, sharp needle-like pain digging into my spine every time I bend over or straighten up, and sometimes they shoot all the way up into my neck. I know it's my lymph nodes all swollen from fighting this minor measly infection. It’s just enough to make me feel miserable and sap all my motivation to do anything. I haven’t sat at the computer the last two days because I just don't feel like it. I’ve been nursing Sam lying down in bed. If I'm lucky, she'll settle down, latch on and just suck the rest of my life out of me. If I'm not, she’ll curl up next to me, latch on and then beat me to death with her tiny little fists and feet, all while chewing on my nipple. Every now and then she'll break off and give me this big gummy grin as if to say, “Gee Mommy. Isn't this fun?” Of course she's got a trail of slime coming out of both nostrils. I’ve never seen anything look so disgusting and so cute at the same time. Maybe this is where the term disgustingly cute comes from.

It's Thursday, which means at 11:30 I should be heading out the door to karate class, but honestly, I really don't feel like it. I can't decide if this is because I feel bad or if it's because I just plain feel lazy. I felt that way when I woke up this morning I got up at 5:15. I woke up not to the sound of my alarm clock but by the sound of a cat taking a dump in my hallway. Fritti is still dying, four weeks after I predicted he would be gone. I swear I have never seen a cat take so long to kick the bucket. And if he passes away with in the next week, it may not be because of any illness, but because I finally got fed up with him taking a dump all over the house and I'd throttled his scrawny little neck. Don’t get me wrong. I love my cat. He's been my constant companion for 15 years and I used to refer to him as my boyfriend any time Michael was out of town. For a cat, he has that boyfriend kind of look - the orange tiger striped randy tom - but man is he killing me. So far today, I’ve cleaned up four piles of diarrhea, not poop but diarrhea, and it smells so bad you’d think the apocalypse is coming.

After thinking about all this suddenly I'm not surprised that I'm tired. So far this morning I’ve nursed Sam twice, gotten Cassie up and dressed, fed both children breakfast (which is a feat in and of itself), cleaned up after Fritti, made my bed, folded a load of laundry, started another load, and now I'm in my dining room with a bucket of water and wood soap getting ready to scrub down my dining room table, which has recently been painted in apples and blueberries thanks to Sam. She thinks it’s fun to smear her food all over herself and then leave her impression all over the dining room. I'm not kidding when I say I can see her lip prints on the finish. Again, disgustingly cute.

Sam's asleep right now. If she wakes up before 11:30, I guess I’ll throw on my gi and go to karate. If she doesn’t, I will take it as a sign that I was meant to stay home today. Honestly, the only reason I even care about getting the karate is because I know in about two months I’m going to have to test for second degree black belt. If it weren't for that, it would be Blow Off Day for sure. Anyway, I’ve got to clean apples and blueberries off my dining room table now. Have fun today. I know I won’t.

When It Rains...

Michael is out of town, so you know life around here is a living hell at the moment. The morning he left, I had to hop into my car six different times to run six different errands - doctor’s appointment, bring Cassie a blanket at preschool, banking, grocery shopping, etc. Only the doctor’s appointment was planned. Sam got a little pissed the fourth time I strapped her into the car seat to head out the door again. “Fer cryin’ out loud, lady! Can’t a baby get a break?”

Naturally, Cassie came down with the stomach flu last night. She came running into my room at 1 AM complaining that her tummy hurt. Dumb me, I thought she was just hungry because she blew off dinner. I took her downstairs to get a bite to eat. The first time she threw up, it went all over the kitchen floor. The second time, I was carrying her over to the mop bucket. She got it half in, half out. The third time she puked, she finally made it into the bucket. Of course, there was a lot more puke the first and second time around.

So Cassie stayed home today, we all slept late, and we’ve all been way off schedule today, which I hate because that makes it impossible for me to get any work done. Somehow though, a miracle occurred around 2 PM. I managed to nurse a screaming Sam to sleep, then came downstairs and found Cassie zonked out in her bean bag chair. She was so out of it I was able to mop the entire downstairs before she woke up. So at least that got done.

My folks show up tomorrow. My sister shows up the day after that, the same day Michael gets home. His parents show up on Friday. Sam gets baptized on Saturday. I won’t have the house to myself again until Tuesday. I wonder if I’ll be able to get anything useful done between now and then?

How I Spent Valentine’s Day

Yeah, I know I’m reporting on this a few days late, but Valentine’s Day was just so overwhelming this year.

For Valentine’s Day, I got: kisses from my kids; a flash memory card and chocolate from Michael; and the stomach flu from God only knows where. That last gift was something I just had to share, so I gave it to Michael. Cass had it the weekend before, and I think Sam has it now. Bleah.

Things I Do Not Want To Hear My Three-Year-Old Scream At 2 AM...

“Mommy! I need a bucket!”

Translation - Mommy, I'm going to vomit all over the place if you don't come flying. I did not want to hear that at 2 AM. Nor did I want to hear it again at 3 AM or at 4.

It was a very long night.