Emily Roach
A bug has gone through our house lately, and the Little Bear has it now. She's in a "pile (aka a pallet)" at the foot of our bed. She her hair in a pony tail so we don't have to worry with it if she has to "yuck." She found a bow that matches her gown and asked me to put it in her hair. What have I created?
Emily Roach
Since my first post about the kids Halloween costumes and my promise to post pictures of the finished product, Paul Harvey has died, we have gone to Disney World, and I finished their costumes, not necessarily in that order.
Emily Roach
Every now and then you find a product you just love. I've been pondering this for a while, and I want to share some of mine. My first one:
I love this toothpaste. As long as they sell it, I don't think I will ever use another one again. I've never felt this way about a toothpaste before. I never expected it to happen, but I love Colgate Total Advanced Fresh. (Not to be confused with Colgate Total Whitening.) It's the best. You brush your teeth at night before bed, and the severity of morning breath is greatly reduced. There have even been a few good morning kisses at our house. Thank you my friend.
Emily Roach
Saturday evening: "Honey, I don't feel good, and since the baby has bitten nearly all of his little classmates in the nursery, I will just plan to stay home with him tomorrow morning, while you take the other kids to church."
Start a new tab:
Click here, for a little "mood music." I'll wait here.

Sunday morning, all is fine. I don't feel great, but I'm okay. Handsome Jr. is a little snotty today, but he's playing fine. We got out the Thomas trains, and I built what I think is one of the nicest variations of bridges, curves, figure 8s and traffic signals in my entire mom career. (Which, exceeds the age of my older child. My Ken doll came with extras included.) Life is good. I leave the room briefly, and return to a crying, pitiful little man, shoving his bright pink hand to my mouth, saying "hurt-hot."

When my kisses didn't make it any better, I scooped him up and went to the kitchen sink. Turns out he had turned a lamp over in his room and touched the bulb. We sat on the side of the tub for almost an hour letting the water run on his hand. He fell asleep that way. My mom adrenaline had kicked in, and masked the illness that was on it's way...

I don't remember much of Monday, except that I asked Handsome Sr. to come home before lunch. He did, which allowed me to rest some. Half a box of Kleenex and some clever late-night infomercials later, I determined I would have to see the doctor.

Tuesday morning. That's when it started to get really bad- fever, chills, sinus "issues," and a throat that looks like a giant twizzler.

The doc said he could work me in at 11:20. It should be noted that it's July, and I live in Alabama. While this week has been unseasonably mild, it's still at least 90 degrees outside, and I am freezing. I fished a fleece jacket out of the closet, and headed out the door. Having redefined frumpy, I check in at the doctor's office. Those folks could not have stared at me any harder if I had walked in with my hair on fire.

I knew I would have to wait, so that's not the issue. But not one of these people looked liked they even felt bad. Am I the only person who doesn't dress up for the doc? If they give out more free samples or shots that don't hurt as bad for those who come in properly glossed, somebody tell me. Otherwise, I'm fine with my half-wet ponytail, flip flops and faded knit capris. My doc knows that I can be cute if I want to, but that's not why I'm here today.

I go in and the sweet nurse that I have seen several times before takes my symptoms. I am now in a fetal position on the table, she's gotten a blanket for me and is trying to get my vitals. I wonder if her chart has a space for one step up from roadkill.

Dr. Seersucker Britches comes in. He's really a great fellow, and has been my and Handsome's GP for years. After reviewing my symptoms, and declaring that my tonsils were "nasty," he says it. I knew all along what I had, and while the official diagnosis hasn't come back from the state yet, my vote is for swine flu.

I am more convinced of this by the state of my nose right now. Having gone through a box and a half of Kleenex in less than 48 hours, I bear a striking resemblance to Miss Piggy, if she were to sport a half-wet ponytail.

I learned the word "debride" earlier in the week while I was Googling what to do with Handsome Jr.'s burn. Now, I have to do it several times a day... to my nose.

Here's a little something to help you get that mental picture flushed out.

Let's talk about Hugh some more another day.

So now it's Day 4. Super Granny flew in in her sensible sedan and has been such a help. Handsome has been able to work for most of a whole day, the kids wore their pj's 'til bedtime and my fever is down to a less painful level. Today's new symptom is swollen lips, but I am going to enjoy that for a day before I call the doc. It's the only feature I could ever have in common with Angelina Jolie.