girlfiend

My summer has been relaxing and drama-free thus far, leaving me with precious little to blog about other than the kids. But just like after the Fiendling was born, my immune system is revolting and I’m a bit of a wreck physically. I’ve had a rash that comes and goes for weeks now. It shows up on my arms or legs, itches like a motherfucker, then disappears only to show up someplace else. Yesterday I woke up with the rash on my outer arms. It migrated to my legs and left elbow by nighttime. The dermatologist says there’s nothing to do but treat the symptoms. Awesome.

Then I got this thing on my back. I assumed it was a zit or a bug bite. I’ve never had a zit on my back, but it was reddish and hurt. I asked Boyfiend for his expert opinion and he told me that it was a zit. The following day the zit was bigger, redder and owier. Boyfiend tried to pop it and came to the conclusion that it was not, in fact, a zit and I needed to see a doctor about it. Sweet. And sexy on the beach.

Speaking of sexy, I ended up buying two new pairs of Reef flip flops this year because I was so grossed out by the old ones. They were blue to begin with and three summers of wearing them 90% fo the time turned them dingy and brown.  I figured with two new pairs of flip flops I could alternate and they wouldn’t get so nasty. But then (since I’m neurotic) I went ahead and gave cleaning the old ones a shot. I went to work with Dawn and a toothbrush and the results were incredible.

I could have saved myself the money and cleaned them to begin with. Oh well. You can never have too many pairs of comfortable flip flops.

I have mastitis. On the holiday weekend. I caught it early and it’s not as bad as it could be but it still sucks that I feel tired and run down and sore. I was hoping for a margarita and all I got was a breast infection. Awesome.

The Fiendling (who has recently added grinding and clicking his teeth to his list of ways to show mom he’s unhappy about his baby brother) is also sick. He has a runny nose, a slight cough and had an unfortunate diaper incident that led to an immediate bath and load of laundry. This morning, after waking up once in the middle of the night, he woke up just before five and couldn’t go back to sleep despite my best efforts. I hope he’s feeling better tomorrow. Though I appreciate how cuddly he is when he’s sick (and his brother isn’t around), I don’t appreciate the excess bodily fluids and the night waking.

Tomorrow is my neighborhood’s sad little Memorial Day parade then we’re going to a barbecue at my in-laws’ house. Hopefully we’ll find time to put the flowers and herbs we bought on Mother’s Day in pots. My garden has been seriously neglected.

I am tired and the baby who is peacefully sleeping beside me smells like spit up and cord stump and desperately needs a bath. I don’t want to wake him, but it’s inevitable.

After losing a cookie to the oven gods while taking a tray out, the oven has been setting off the smoke alarm every time I use it. Last night I brilliantly decided to run the cleaning cycle before putting the Fiendling to bed. The smoke alarm went off three times before Boyfiend stopped the cycle.  It’s never set the fire alarm off before. Boyfiend asked if I’ve ever run the cycle in the winter. I can’t remember but I’d rather not cause smoke damage so I won’t try again. Now I have to clean the stupid oven myself.

This morning the Fiendling woke up about 15 minutes before Boyfiend’s alarm was set to go off. I got out of bed to get him but he wanted nothing to do with me. Exhausted, and still have asleep, I closed the stair gates and got back into bed. Boyfiend got up a few minutes later- still 7 minutes before his alarm was set to go off- and I went back to sleep. He woke me up a few minutes before he left for work and brought me a cup of coffee. He left and I guess I dozed off again. When I awoke 2 or 3 minutes later to the sound of his car pulling out of the driveway I looked over and realized the Fiendling had dumped the coffee out in the bed. I leaped out of bed, pulled off the sheets and mattress pad and threw everything in the wash. The coffee had, of course, soaked through the supposedly stain proof, mattress protecting mattress pad and a huge coffee stain was on the pillow top. I tried to clean it with soap, water and a washcloth and it had no effect whatsoever. I moved on to oxyclean and a scrub brush and the stain got lighter, but not much. Then, since I’d had no coffee, I gave up.

Now we’re watching Curious George. He’s eating a waffle. I just finished my toast. The kitchen still reeks of smoke. I wanted to walk to get coffee before toddler gymnastics but it’s wintry mixing outside- I can’t tell from the window if it’s rain or ice.  Awesome.

My cell phone officially shit the bed. I’d blame it on the Fiendling’s love of chewing technology, but really it’s my fault for letting him and dropping it a few times too many. We took a ride out to the cell phone store the other day, as I’ve been itching for a camera phone. It’s tough taking pictures for the Unfortunate Fashion pool when you have a real camera. It turned out that I wasn’t eligible for an upgrade until April so I’d have to pay way too much money for any phone at all, including their shitty, no-frills models. The woman at the counter, clearly in love with my handsome baby whispered, “Go across the street to Radioshack, buy a pay as you go phone and swap the sim card.” Sure enough, for $20 I got a cheap ass, but working phone, and if it lasts until April I’m golden. I can wait until then for a camera phone. It will be a belated birthday present to myself.

After purchasing my new, cheap phone we got news that we’ve been victims of identity theft. Sweet, right? We got a call from a store’s fraud prevention department thanking us for our order, which obviously we never placed. The fraud department was closed by the  time we called so we ended up talking to someone in the sales department who was pretty damn useless. He was able to tell us what was ordered and that it would be delivered to us, at our house, by Fedex the next day. Then the information got fuzzy. My name was somehow linked to the order and he said I’d placed it on 11/25/05. Huh?

The next morning, yesterday, I called back and spoke to the fraud department. Someone opened a store account in Boyfiend’s name online and ordered $3500 worth of cameras. Oddly, they put our address and phone number on the order. She didn’t have my name on any of her information, but she was able to give me the number to cancel Boyfiend’s store account and she canceled the shipment. When Boyfiend called later he was told that we had to each put fraud alerts on our names and social security numbers.

Of the three credit organizations I was able to see my credit reports for two. The one that I placed the fraud alert through wouldn’t let me see my credit report because they’re assholes who want you to buy fraud insurance before they’ll let you see your FREE credit report. Now I have to wait until they mail me some packet with some code so I can do it online. So far, based on the two I could see, it looks like I’m okay and that no one’s opened anything in my name. Boyfiend was only able to see one of his reports for some reason and that one was fine, but still, someone out there has our name, address, phone number and his social security number and opened an account in his name. They have my name too, which is completely different from his since I never changed it after we married. It’s all scary and pretty fucked up.

Friday I got a call from the stupid tech department of the computer warranty company. At the time it looked like they were going to replace my laptop. The manager was waiting for official confirmation. That was Friday. I’ve heard nothing since. So I might get a new laptop free. Or I might not. We’ll see.

After a rather uncomfortable week my sister-in-law, with contractions five minutes apart arrived at the hospital to learn she was only a centimeter dilated and was going to be sent home. But then they checked her urine and saw she had pre-eclampsia  and admitted her anyway. The Fiendling’s first cousin, a beautiful baby girl with a lot of hair, was born yesterday around 6 p.m. via c-section.  Mom and dad were exhausted, but happy. I can’t wait to go back to the hospital to visit today.

I feel like this has been the longest week ever and it’s only Thursday.

The only reason that I’m admitting to this is because I know I’m not the only one (desperately) trying to get my child interested in TV for a little peace and semi-quiet. I am currently watching Barney. The Fiendling occasionally glances up from his current state of on-the-go and does a little baby dance, but for the most part he’s completely disinterested. I think Barney’s pretty lame too, but the songs are pretty damn catchy.

Other shows he’s not interested in include Teletubbies, Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers, Caillou, Dragon Tales and some show about a singing sloth. My mother swears he likes the Simpsons but I’ve seen no evidence of this at home.

Last night I woke up coughing at two in the morning and it didn’t stop for two hours. I haven’t mentioned this lately, but bronchitis sucks. Sucks, I tell you. After the coughing finally subsided after two doses of cough medicine and plenty of mind over matter self-convincing, the Fiendling woke up at four for an early breakfast. We both went back to sleep, but my god, I am tired. He woke up bright and early and crawled to the edge of our rather high bed and slithered right off. I grabbed his ankle just before the 6 inch drop onto hard wood floor. He thought it was a laugh riot. I just want to go back to bed. A nice morning of PBS kids would be lovely.

Stupid laptop’s going back to the shop today. Freezing and going black AGAIN. They’ve replaced the motherboard three times now. If they have to replace it this time I supposedly get a new laptop. With my luck, it’s not a motherboard thing this time around. Do I have any legal rights with this stupid fucking extended warranty?

As of Thursday I’ve eaten:

• English muffin with butter (this was a very poor choice with severe consequences)
• chicken broth (maybe a cup and half total)
• toast (5 or 6 slices)
• applesauce (maybe half a cup)
• rice (about a quarter cup)
• a few crackers

Considering my last real meal was half of a turkey sandwich on Wednesday, shortly before the great stomach illness took hold, you wouldn’t think that I’d have spent the last several days watching the food network nonstop, but I have and I just can’t stop. I’ve fallen deeply in love with Giada and everything she cooks. I can’t get enough of Paula Deen and would love to be a guest at her Thanksgiving dinner even though she uses entirely too much mayonnaise and calls sweet potatoes stuffed with marshmallow and rolled in coconut a vegetable. Michael Chiarello is creepy, though I plan on trying a number of his recipes. I despise Sandra Lee with all of her powdered spice packets. Alton Brown is probably someone I’d enjoy hanging out with, especially while he deep fries a turkey. Emeril isn’t nearly as annoying in his half hour show as he is live though none of his recipes have wowed me. Rachael Ray’s voice is grating and her recipes suck balls. I’m also rather fond of the Barefoot Contessa though I’ve only caught a few minutes of her making a pie crust in a food processor. Apparently it’s all about the ice water.

Later

I had to edit this to add that I just watched the Iron Chef America battle Cranberry with team Bobby Flay/Giada DiLaurentis vs. Mario Batali/Rachael Ray. Bobby Flay has always seemed like a bit of a dick, so it was no surprise to me that he and Giada didn’t make such a good team. She obviously needed reassurance but he was too wrapped up in what he was doing to help her out. On the other side, Rachael who was sweaty, flushed, frustrated and totally out of her element was calmed by the ever-supportive Mario calling her “honey-bunny” and enjoying himself visibly. I’d never seen much of Batali in action before, and based on this show I like him. I don’t know if it was his presence on her team or the fact that she was obviously nervous and her perkiness was somewhat subdued, but Rachael Ray was actually likeable and her pasta dish looked like something I’d want to make. So maybe all of her recipes don’t suck balls.

Just when I think it’s safe to whine about not being invited on playdates…

stomach flu

You may have been thinking to yourself, “Huh. I haven’t heard Girlfiend complain about her health in at least a week now.” Or not. Either way, I seem to have developed yet another case of the mastitis. Or perhaps it’s just a clogged duct that isn’t visible on the surface. Clog or infection, it hurts like a motherfucker. And I’m thinking it showed up because I was bold enough to think to myself (while examining the bruises, bumps and scabs that still remain on my arms, legs and stomach) that the poison ivy, while still pretty damn ugly, at least isn’t itchy these days.

Or maybe it’s because yesterday at the gym, this big, muscular, black dude Gary approached me to tell me how good I look these days. Gary, who is in sickeningly perfect shape, is one of the friendliest guys at the gym and has watched me gain 60 pounds and lose 50 of it.  Yesterday he told me that my haircut makes me look taller and that he can see I’m really losing weight. I thanked him and said, “I’m working on it, ” which is true, even though I haven’t bored you with the details lately.  A few minutes later, as I was setting up the leg press machine he walked over, leaned in and said, “In addition to what I just told you, I wanted to say that I’m proud of you.” I think I may have blushed as I thanked him again.

As for the working on it, I made an appointment with one of the trainers a couple of weeks ago to revamp my workout. In addition to the yoga and cardio I’d been sort of doing the old strapless dress workout in a half-assed sort of fashion and really wanted to step things up. Now I’m lifting heavier weights and alternating opposing muscle groups so the workout takes less time. It takes about 35 minutes to complete the weight circuit, which is about 15 minutes less than I was spending before. It’s only been two weeks, but I’m pretty sure it’s working, since I’ve been pretty sore the past few days. We’ll see. I’ve had these last ten pounds to lose for a couple of months now. Their will may be stronger than mine.

I guess I should take a few days off from the gym, what with the mastitis and all. I don’t have a fever yet, but based on the last several times I’ve had it, it’s just a matter of time.  Sweet.

With gun threats at Boyfiend’s school and a hostage situation at my dad’s very suburban apartment complex things are wacky all over.

I don’t have scabies or impetigo or a flesh eating virus. The rash that had me waiting in the doctor’s office with a seven-month-old to see a doctor who was double booked? Poison Ivy. Yes, more poison ivy. Doctor’s recommendation? Caladryl every two hours, washing clothes in hot water  and the knowledge that this second batch, the poison ivy I probably got from taking off my shirt, will go away in three weeks.  I also asked about how my immune system’s shot and if I needed bloodwork. Her reply was all my illnesses and ailments are due to motherhood and I should just get used to it. Sweet.