Please stand back ... my head could explode at any moment

Eight days ago I was awakened in a most unpleasant way ... by a throbbing in my throat that would not be relieved by hot tea and honey.

Hubs and the cubs went on to church without me and somehow the therapeutic effects of 3+ hours of solitude in bed convinced me that I was much better by their return.

The following morning I was once again awakened by the sensation of being knifed in my throat, but a few sprays of Chloraseptic numbed me up enough to get through the day.

Fast forward a very painful four days to Friday. I agonized all day long over my symptoms. Should I go to the doctor? Or should I hold off until Monday? It's not going to see the doc that bothers me. He's a very likable sort and always makes me feel like I'm the most important patient on his schedule that day even if he has an entire room of coughing flu-bags vying for a few minutes of his attention (and his prescription-writing powers). I just don't like taking antibiotics and view them as an absolute last resort after I've tried everything over-the-counter I can get my hands on.

When things didn't improve over the weekend and I woke up this morning at 5 a.m. burning up in the middle of a dream that the people from Home Improvement had all taken their power sanders to my pharynx, I knew the OTC stuff just wasn't cutting it. It was time to make the phone call I'd been dreading.

A much-too-cheerful receptionist answered my call and told me the very soonest I could be seen was late on Wednesday afternoon.

"Mmmm ... I think I'm really sick," I told her. "There's no way he can see me today?"

"Oh no," she replied in her too-happy way. "There's a LOT of flu going around right now." But, she went on to suggest that I pay a visit to the walk-in clinic if I thought I needed attention sooner than Wednesday.

The walk-in clinic? The clinic we always referred to as Medi-Quack when I was in college? I just didn't know about that ...

Somehow I made it through class, but by the end the pressure in my left ear was so bad I was afraid my eardrum was about to rupture.

Medi-Quack was sounding more and more like a viable option. So the Little Man and I stopped by on our way home. Forty minutes later, having been diagnosed with a raging case of strep and left otitis media and prescriptions in hand, we headed to the pharmacy.

I had to laugh at his youthful naivete. "Now that you have your drugs, Momma, you wanna stop at Chili's and have chips and salsa?"

No, honey, I think I'd rather have a power sander taken to my throat.

Just give me a few days, though, and I'll be all over that.

And how would she know this?

Yesterday, my Sara and I were out doing a little shopping in preparation for our upcoming trip to the Land of Mouse, and we stopped by the snack bar at Target to get some popcorn and a drink. As we walked to the car, Sara commented on her favorite popcorn.

"I like the really yellow pieces the best," she said, "because they're really buttery."

And then the observation that had me scratching my head:

"But Momma ... when you're out playing in the snow and gathering it for snow cream, the yellow snow is NOT the best."

I don't even want to know how she figured that out.

Disbelief

This from the BBC this morning:

For the second time in two years, an Argentine teenager has given birth to female triplets, BBC News reports.

The 16-year-old, who goes only by the name of Pamela, first gave birth to triplets at the age of 15.

Pamela, who lives in Leones in the central Argentine province of Cordoba, also gave birth to a son two years ago. All seven children were born prematurely, and the mother did not use fertility treatments, the report said. The chances of giving birth to triplets once are more than 8,000 to 1, according the report.

Provincial authorities donated land and built a house for Pamela’s family when the first set of triplets were born. Pamela’s mother plans to ask the government for more assistance.

So, if I'm reading this correctly, Pamela first gave birth at age 14 to a son, at age 15 to triplet daughters, and at age 16 to another set of triplet daughters.

Folks, that makes this child the mother of SEVEN BABIES.

The government has donated land and built a house for this girl, and now her mother is planning to ask for MORE???

I don't know whether I'm more appalled by Pamela's actions or by her mother's. This family definitely needs help, but it's NOT in the form of government assistance.

No Peanuts, Thanks. I'll Take a Valium Instead ...

It's been almost two weeks ago that my husband called home one morning with some news he was practically BURSTING to share.

"Okay, hon," he started. "Do I have ALL your attention?"

So excited was he that my first thought was that he had won the Powerball or something. But then I remember that he doesn't buy lottery tickets. A tax on people who are really bad at math, he calls them. And just in case I haven't mentioned it before, Hubs is really bad at math.

But I digress ..

"Yeah, you have it all," I replied. "What's up?"

In a nutshell, his new employer is sending him to some training in Orlando, and they are encouraging him and his coworker to take their families along, since the hotel where the training will be held is practically on Disney property.

My initial enthusiasm was quickly followed by a near panic attack as I realized that my plans to drive there had already been foiled. We're flying, I was told.

Yikes. I haven't been on an airplane in so long I'm embarrassed to say. Certainly not since 9/11. I always did okay on airplanes when I was younger, but it's different now. I'm a momma of three, and there are crazies in this world who think it's noble to take over American planes and crash land them into buildings.

I know, I know ... safety measures have been put into place since then that make it nigh near impossible to board a plane with anything besides the clothes on your body and possibly a toothbrush in a carry-on if you're very lucky, but still.

I'm a worrier, and what makes this even worse is that my primary means of destressing (knitting and crocheting) will not help me at all seeing as how they're not about to let me board a plane with needles of any sort.

Since Hubs is a certified, card-carrying officer of the law, I thought perhaps he might be allowed to board with his weapon concealed. But no. The Airline Nazis don't allow that either.

I don't want to sound prejudiced or anything, but I'm just giving my family fair warning right now that if there is ANYONE on that plane that looks the slightest bit like a terrorist, I'm not flying. Unless they drug me first.

It's Always Good to Know Who Your Competition Is

The little man and I were having lunch together at home today, when he suddenly looks at me and says sweetly (and emphatically), "Momma, you are the best momma in the WHOLE ENTIRE OF THE WOR-ULD."

"Really?" I asked. "In the whole world? Are you sure?"

"Mmmm hmmm," he replied, nodding his head. "I'm VERRRY sure."

After a brief pause, he went on to add another thought. "In fact, Momma, if they (not sure who "they" is) lined up ALL the mommas in the wor-uld, and I got to pick one, I would pick you."

"Really, Doodle Bug? You would pick ME?" I tried to act surprised, even though he has expressed this same sentiment at least 49 times already this week.

And then the clincher.

"Oh, yes, Momma. In fact, if they let me spin to pick a Momma, and my spinner landed on Scott Donna Momma, I would just CHEAT THE SPINNER and pick you anyway! So there!"

You can only imagine the sigh of relief that escaped me as I realized my arch rival Scott Donna Momma was NOT going to beat me out for the affections of my little boy. Whew.

This Crazy Arkansas Weather

On Monday of this week, we awakened to unseasonably warm temperatures. The thought briefly passed through my mind that I could easily see myself wearing a skirt and flip-flops to class that morning. "It's January," I reminded myself. "People will laugh at you if you show up in flip-flops."
So I dressed in something appropriate for what the weather would normally be in January (never mind that my upstairs classroom usually feels 15-20 degrees warmer than it should). And I roasted.

Walking out to my car afterward, I spoke briefly with Susan, the ninth-grade English teacher who was wearing flip-flops. We commented on how beautiful the weather was, and could this be a sign we would have an early spring.

The next morning, the weather again was gorgeous when I awoke to a balmy 65 degrees. And so I did what I had wanted to do the day before. I shaved my very white legs, threw on a skirt and top and my most favorite pair of Skechers flip flops. (This is probably a violation of some obscure rule in the 20-page dress code, but since I haven't taken the time to read it all, I surely can't be held responsible for following it, right??)

Hubs commented before he left for work that we were going to see a significant drop in temperatures that day, and there was even a chance of snow that evening.

A wiser woman would have immediately put on a pair of tights and boots (seeing as how my warm wool pants are forbidden by the dress code), but I dismissed his warning and assumed that the big drop the forecasters were predicting surely wouldn't happen before I got home around noon. After all, those guys are rarely right anyway.

So off I went in 60ish degree weather. A mere 90 MINUTES LATER as The Little Man and I headed to the mall to buy Daddy's birthday present, it was already well on its way to the 30s. Those smirks that I had worried about getting the day before ... yes, I got plenty of them as we braved strong winds (without coats, of course, because who would wear a coat and flip-flops together??) G and I went into a shoe store to get Dad a new pair of Merrill's and when I asked for a man's size, she coyly remarked that it looked like I could use a pair of shoes as well. What could I do but laugh?

It's been freezing every day since, and the snow finally came yesterday, though not nearly as much as we'd been told we'd get. Somehow our 4-7" turned into not much more than a heavy dusting, but we got two days out of school, which have been wonderful!

This is the view from my deck this morning:


Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go pack away every pair of sandals I own just to avoid the temptation of donning another pair anytime in the near future.