Wonderful Surreality

If anyone had asked me to imagine how much our lives would change as a result of becoming a CNA, I don't know that I could have done it justice. I know I knew that our lives would change. I just didn't know how different things would look.

I passed my state CNA exam without a problem back in October. I'd been pretty nervous leading up to it. I let nerves get the best of me and would mess up during practice sessions. I was a wreck! But the morning of the test I was able to have some quiet time with the Lord and relax a bit. I realized I had the stuff down, and I ended up being more nervous for the gal who tested with me than for myself. I had to laugh at how anticlimactic it was when I was finally done. I'd definitely worked it up to more in my mind than it actually was. I was just very thankful that I'd put in the time to practice, so I had no problem with the test.

I'd been hired a few days before my state exam, and that was a completely different reality for me! I hadn't even seen an employment application in decades, let alone actually filled one out! I went through a plethora of emotion during the process. It was like I was seeing the ocean again for the very first time...shock at the enormity of it all, stunned by the wonder, and in awe that it actually existed. And that was nothing compared to what was yet to come.

Hopper had her surgery the end of October, and it was indeed life-changing. Not only is she doing much better physically, but it has made such an incredible difference in her attitude, anxiety, and mood! We knew that a lot of her anxiety stemmed from having the surgery hanging over her head for the last 8 years, but we didn't realize how much of it came from that. She's like a different person. Well, not a different person, but a better version of her self. Like she was before she had this surgery hanging over her head. She's happier, more silly, loving to joke around, loving to laugh, and much more relaxed. It's like we have the Hopper we used to know back. It's been wonderful to see what a huge change this surgery has meant for her!

Scooter had her surgery a couple weeks ago. She's healing up much better than expected, and she is so glad to have it in the past. She's also thrilled with what it will mean for her future, so she's a happy little camper! She dances around the house all the time now, and it's wonderful to see! She's a bit bummed this morning, because Hopper finally got to go back to work today, and she has to wait until Monday, but I'm anxious to see her dance moves then!

Besides the surgeries, the thing that has had the biggest effect on our lives is my job. Because I get so many hours per week between the two girls, I'm making more than Hubster did. We knew that we no longer needed to rely on the extra cash that being on call provided, so we knew that a job change was coming. He put in his notice, so he'd be done when he came back from the vacation days he took for Hopper's surgery. Little did we know that they decided to just move the date up for his departure without telling him, so it was a bit of a surprise when he found out he didn't have to go back in for those last few days of work.

And I can't tell you how wonderful it's been to have him home! He's going to look for another job after the first of the year. It may be full-time. It might be part-time. But it will not involve call. At all. We've had too many holiday celebrations interrupted when his pager went off, and he'd have to leave. He put in his time. He was on call 5 to 7 days each week for the last 17.5 years. So it has been a dream to have him home so much, and we've really seen the positive difference it's made on the girls. On all of us, really. We're all much more relaxed. And happy. Definitely happy!

Once Scooter goes back to work next week, we'll both be working on dehoarding together. We'll work on the stuff on the back porch and in the garage and try to get it done as quickly as possible. Then what's left will be more manageable. I still have to finish the study, (the only room left on the main floor than needs done), and then I'll work in the basement and try to get it finished up.

We finally see a light at the end of the tunnel, and this time, it isn't a train!

We feel so incredibly blessed and we are beyond grateful. I thank God for His mercy!

May you each have a blessed Thanksgiving!

Motoring

Four and a half years ago when I started this blog, after watching my first episode of Hoaders, I remember looking for other hoarding blogs. I know I've written about it once or twice and how disappointing it was that they didn't keep up with their blogging. It made me think that perhaps they weren't successful with dehoarding their homes and getting their lives back together. Had they stopped blogging, because they had fallen off the wagon, so to speak, and were just embarrassed to come back and admit it? It saddened and concerned me. It made me wonder, if I'd ever be able to get it all done myself. 

It didn't dawn on me that perhaps blogging got to be too much for those who had started their journeys and that life won out. At least it didn't dawn on me until it happened to me.

The last several months have been full of, well, life. That, and my computer died on me. So I'm actually borrowing Bugster's computer for the day, so I could peruse the internet for awhile and drop by for a quick blog post.

Since Hubster had his gallbladder out back in March, our lives have been filled with all sorts of everything. 

Scooter's had some health issues that caused liver and spleen enlargement, (We never did find out the cause, but she's doing much better now.), she graduated from high school, and she's now going to her day program 5 days a week, and is thrilled she didn't have to start school last week with the rest of the students in the district! 

Hopper has done very well. A year ago, we took her in for a surgery consultation. The doctor was willing to do the surgery, but she wanted Hopper to lose some weight, so the insurance company would be more willing to approve the surgery. She's lost 29 pounds, (12 of which she'd gained in the previous year due to some medication she was taking), and the surgery is a go. We just barely got approval for it a few weeks ago, but we are beyond thrilled that she will be able to have this surgery! It will be life-changing for her. The downside of this is that her anxiety is quite high while she awaits the surgery scheduled for the end of October. 

I definitely added to her stress level. The last 2 weeks of July, I was in class for 8 hours a day to become a CNA. Hopper doesn't do well at all with change, so for me to not be home during the day was very difficult for her, in spite of the fact that I was always here with the girls in the evenings. The days were long, though. The girls' hours were extended at the day program for those 2 weeks, and it just took its toll. It was wonderful getting out of the house, being back in the school setting, and meeting people, but it was also exhausting. Still, I would do it all again in a heartbeat! 

Unfortunately, it's brought out the worst in my fibromyalgia. I've been in the worst flare I've had since I was diagnosed with it 6 years ago. It doesn't help that I ran out of some of the things that help when it gets out of control. Thankfully, they should be here tomorrow, so I will, hopefully, be fully functioning again soon. And thankfully, we haven't had any major wildfires this year, so my asthma is under much better control than it was a year ago. I'm still on a small amount of daily oral steroids, but I should be done with them shortly, so things are looking up.

I'm looking forward to taking my state test, so I can get my license and be hired on to be the girls official caretaker. It will be really odd to have an income for the first time in our 28 year marriage. It's not that I wasn't allowed to work outside the home. Hubster's not like that. I'm not, either. If he had said that he didn't allow me to work outside the home, my first stop would have been to flood the market with job applications. But I can't think of a single job where I'd have been able to call in and say, "Yeah. I need the next 3 weeks off... Hopper and Scooter have another cold." So this will be a life-changing thing for our family, and I'm looking forward to the freedom it will allow us.

Now to answer my original question. Have I left my blog, because I'd fallen off the dehoarding wagon and was too embarrassed to admit it, or has life just been overly full?

I'd like to think it's mostly that life just got in the way. While the dehoarding has taken a backseat to life, it's still in the car, and we're still putting along.

That Took Stones.

So tired. It's been quite the week, but I am grateful beyond words. Hubster went in for gallbladder surgery on Thursday.  It was only supposed to have been a 45 minute surgery, but we'll get back to that in a sec.

This was Hubster's first surgery ever. And he was a bit nervous. He wasn't nervous about the pain. He wasn't nervous about how it would turn out. But he's a bit on the claustrophobic side after a near-drowning incident years ago, and the thought of being intubated was concerning him. He was afraid he'd wake up with the breathing tube down his throat and become violent, if he panicked.  He didn't want to hurt anyone.

Thankfully, the anesthesiologist assured him that he'd make sure Hubster was completely asleep before placing the tube and still asleep when he removed it. By the time he was headed back, Hubster was feeling good about the surgery and just ready to get it done. I felt much better about all of it myself and prepared myself to wait.

While The nurse was escorting me back to the waiting room, I confirmed that the surgery should last 45 minutes or so. She said it was, but if I wanted to get anything to eat or drink at the cafeteria, I should go now and probably be back in 20 to 25 minutes, so I didn't miss the doctor coming out to talk to me. So I ran to the bathroom and proceeded through the maze to the cafeteria in the hospital next door.

Of course, the cafeteria was closed, so I got a couple bucks out of my purse and grabbed a breakfast bar and some peanuts out of the vending machine. They were the only thing that had any potential nutritional value in them, but I needed something. I called his folks to let them know he'd gone in and headed back, stopping at a little book sale they were having at the hospital. I found a couple things for the girls, called Mom to let her know he'd gone in and went back to the waiting room.

A good 45 minutes had gone by while sitting there, and I still hadn't heard from the surgeon, so I asked the receptionist, if she could see, if I'd missed talking to the doctor. I figured I'd been gone for at least 25 minutes, so I thought I'd just missed the doc.  The receptionist came back and said that they'd gotten started late, (at 11:00), and that the surgeon said he'd be done in the next 15 minutes. I knew they hadn't started at 11:00, though, because I'd called his folks at 10:47, and that was after the restroom break, the long trek to the cafeteria, and playing with the vending machine. Clearly something wasn't right.

I sat there silently praying that he'd be alright and playing with my phone. A few minutes later, the surgeon made an appearance. He said that Hubster was doing well. He'd just talked to him, even, but his gallbladder was, and he thought for a moment to come up with the least offensive way to put it, "rotten. Just plain rotten", as he shook his head at the memory. He didn't go into much detail other than that. Told me I could see Hubster in an hour or 2, so if I needed to go anywhere, now would be the time. So I called his parents and Mom with an update and hung out until they came and got me. It's funny. That wait didn't seem nearly as long as the wait for the surgery was, yet it was half again as long. Funny how time works that way.

Thankfully, Hubster looked great when I saw him. He was very relieved the surgery was over and especially relieved he didn't have to have the big surgery instead of the laparoscopic surgery he ended up with. Apparently, his gallbladder was "very diseased", and the surgeon was struggling to get it all out. He'd actually had the nurse call the hospital to tell them to expect Hubster to be admitted.  That he was going to have to open him all the way up.  But thankfully, right after he'd had the nurse make the call, he was able to finagle the rest of the gallbladder loose.

The doc said that as diseased as his gallbladder was, Hubster had been having problems with it for years and just didn't realize it. Sounds like things could have gone badly for him, if he hadn't gotten it out when he did. I'm anxious for him to feel better. To feel what life without gut aches and pain feels like.

For life without his rolling stones.

I'm Going Back to School.

Kind of.




I'm doing homework again. The other day, I started watching Hoarders all over again, starting with season 1. I realized I've been slipping into some of my old hoarding behaviors, and I just don't want to go backwards. I think the habits may be surfacing due to stress, but I'm not entirely sure. I know that my dehoarding has definitely slowed over the last few years, but the last few years have been very stressful, too. And while the dehoarding had slowed down, I wasn't actively hoarding anything. I just wasn't getting rid of things like I had been there for awhile.


But last week things changed.

I'd gotten the last yogurt out of the case, and as I was tearing the box up to fit it in the trash I noticed that there were Box Tops for Education on the carton. I know I've got a gallon bag of them floating around the house somewhere, and I know that they could bring in a few dollars for a local school, so I figured I'd start saving them again. So I tore them off the carton and figured I'd just go back and trim them down with scissors, so they'd be neat. That old perfectionism thing rearing it's ugly head once again. 

But when I'd torn the one off the carton, I'd torn the corner of the BTFE off. If I was going to trim them to be neat, I'd also need to tape that one back together. So I just tossed them on the counter with the thought of getting the scissors and going back to them right away. But then the phone rang, or I had to help one of the girls or something else took my attention, and I forgot about getting the scissors. I'd remember the scissors every time I went in the kitchen, but I'd never actually get the scissors. So they just sat there. For a week. And in that week, I noticed every other BTFE on every other item we buy that carries them. And I found myself searching them out with my eyes, so I would remember which products had them, so I wouldn't forget to cut them off and save them.  

And I found myself getting stressed over it, because I noticed some of them had expiration dates on them. And what would I do, if I spent time to save them up and then dropped the ball by letting them expire. And was it worth it in the long run? Yeah. I think they're probably worth it for someone who doesn't have a hoarding problem, but I realized it wasn't worth it for me. Heck. After this year, we won't even have anyone in school anymore. So after a full week of it sitting on the counter calling me names, and calling my name, and making me feel guilty for not getting the scissors and tape, I gave myself permission to throw the Box Tops For Education in the trash. I gave myself permission to not be responsible for saving the local school through little coupons on boxes. 

Twas small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

But while I was basking in the glow of snatching that small victory from the jaws of defeat, I was snapped out of a fog that I hadn't even realized had descended upon me. I noticed a light bulb I'd set aside last week when I changed the one that had burned out. I'd seen a couple of cute little crafts using old light bulbs that I thought would be fun to do when I ran across them, and I'd set the bulb aside. You know. For when I could get to it in my spare time. I mean, I could make all sorts of adorable Christmas ornaments out of them, but the one I really thought was inventive was where you take the filament out of the bulb and turn it into a vase. Cute!

And then I realized I didn't have just one light bulb set aside. I had 3 of them that had burned out at roughly the same time. Except one was on my kitchen counter, and was on the big television armoire we'd turned into a pantry a few months ago. And all of the sudden, I saw really sharp shards of glass cutting Hopper and Scooter, and I decided that light bulb crafts are not in my near future. They take up too much space to save at this time, so they're gone. If Bugster wants them for crafting, she can have them and can pick them up this weekend. If she doesn't, they will go in the trash. 

And then, out of the blue, I remembered the laundry basket of unmated socks that was still sitting downstairs waiting for me. It's been waiting for me for 3 years. That's long enough. So I tossed my hoarding issues aside and went through the basket. I found about a dozen pair of socks, saved a few socks that we'd purchased relatively recently that I knew the other half of the pair was around somewhere, and then I threw the rest in the garbage.  I think there had to have been between 150 and 200 single socks in there. I didn't take the time to count. 

There were 2 socks - 1pink, 1 light green - that still felt new, and soft, and unworn, but I didn't remember when we'd gotten them. There were actually 3 different colors, but I'd found one full pair of blue ones, and for some reason, I didn't keep the 2 singles. I tossed them out with the others. And wouldn't you know it, but a few hours later, I came across the other pink sock under a piece of furniture in Scooter's room. 

Crap.

I knew I could go out to the garbage and retrieve the mate and nobody else would ever even know. Besides, I knew it was the last thing I'd put in the bag, so the sock would be right on top. And just like the Christmas tree tin that called my name from the trash that cold winter night over 4  years ago, the little pink sock was trying to get my attention. From outside. In the trash can. 

:::sigh:::

I've been fighting the urge to dig the little pink sock out of the trash and reunite it with its mate for the better part of the day. It was so unfamiliar to once again feel those physical symptoms I felt that night 4 years ago when I threw that tin away. And then I remembered that it was just a crew sock. And Scooter doesn't like that length of sock nearly as much as she likes knee socks. And she has plenty of socks in both lengths. And I realized that we can always buy another pair, if she needs some. I mean it's not like it would bankrupt us.

Besides. I need to do the homework. It's worth the cost of a pair of socks or two, and it's way cheaper than therapy. I just don't want to slide backwards down that slippery slope I so carefully climbed a few years ago. 

Granted, I still have a long way to go before our home is completely dehoarded, but I'll get there one day. 

I just have to do my homework.

Looking for that rainbow.

Had a bit of good news/bad news this week.

Good news: Hubster's hours are going to change again. Instead of working 12 days on, 2 days off, he'll go back to having weekends off and working 5 days a week. We can handle that. In fact, we'll really, really enjoy it! The 12 on/ 2 off schedule was a bear, and I don't know, if we would have ever gotten completely used to it. I'm glad it has come to its official end.

Bad news: Hubster has been sick the last few days. He was in pain all night long Tuesday night and ended up going to the doctor on Wednesday morning to find out what was going on. He'd been in 2 other times to talk about it, but they diagnosed him with reflux and sent him on his way. I figured a couple of months ago it was his gallbladder.

Good news: It is his gallbladder. I know. That doesn't sound like good news, but we think it is. It means there will be an end in sight for the pain he's been going through. He goes in Monday to get a referral to a surgeon and discuss his bloodwork. He's going to feel SO much better once he has the surgery! Now to get it scheduled.

Bad news: Hubster woke up with a fever yesterday and again today, so he had to miss work again. 

Good news: Hubster woke up with a fever yesterday and again today, so we have gotten to see more of him in the last few days than we have in the last month! 

Good news: Finally got the MRI done on Hopper that is required before she has surgery. 

Bad news: The person who read the MRI commented as though she's already had the surgery, and we have to get that corrected. She hasn't had surgery yet, and we don't want his mistake to keep the insurance company from approving her much needed operation!

Good news: The antibiotics the doctor put me on seem to be helping, and I'm feeling better than I have in quite awhile.

Even better news: I'm not having any sort of allergic reaction to the antibiotic. That's a nice change. 

Bad news: I have so much to do I don't know where to start.

Good news: That's not really true. I've started a list...

 

Mind Clutter.

In the last couple of years, I've watched as my computer time has been cut to nearly nothing. It wasn't that I was purposely trying to scale back. I have just found myself accessing the internet from my phone more often than not, but even with it, I'm not online much. Add the fact that I dropped my phone, and the face has this huge spiderweb crack all over the face, and I'm on it even less than I had been. 

One problem is that the desktop is in the study, which is filled with boxes of paperwork that I still need to finish sorting, and it tends to be pretty dusty in there. Add the fact that the window air conditioner is in there and runs for a good part of the year, (especially when we have had fires in the area and can't have the windows open for fresh air), doesn't help at all. The cold not only flares my asthma up but makes me ache all over. Fibromyalgia and cold don't play well together.

And while I do have my little netbook that Hubster got me for our anniversary a couple of years ago, I find myself not using it for weeks at a time. I'm not exactly sure why. It isn't nearly as comfortable to type on or on my aging eyes as the desktop is, so I find myself avoiding it. That definitely plays a role in it, but I think part of it was that I was wanting to keep from dealing with things online, as well. 

Needless to say, the number of emails I have amassed now numbers in the thousands. I have deleted hundreds of them already, but I do need to pare down even further. In the meantime, I have started to deal with some of that stuff that is in the back of my mind on a continual basis. The master list, so to speak. In other words, mind clutter.

Because it's been so long since I logged into my yahoo account, I can no longer access it. Funny thing is that I was still getting emails from the groups I belonged to when I was using it. So I unsubscribed from the group through email and will consider the entire account a thing of the past. I closed down a group I used to manage on another email and unsubscribed from the other groups I belonged to. It sounds silly to say, but it was a bittersweet thing to get rid of it. I'd had the user name for well over a decade, but I realized I just wasn't using it, and it was a thing of the past. So rather than hanging onto it for old times' sake, I chalked it up to moving on with my life and left it behind me with a smile. 

In the spirit of moving on, I also cleared out many of the blogs I was following. Unfortunately, so many of them went by the wayside a year, or 2, or even 3 years ago. I went through the list and checked whether or not the blog was still active. I unfollowed
the blogs that hadn't had a post in the last 12 months. I didn't unfollow all of them. There are a couple special ones that I left on my blog roll. I am hoping the people will eventually show up and miraculously start to blog again. I really miss them. All told, I deleted almost 50% of the blogs I'd been following. It saddened me to see so many of them give up the ghost, but it did feel good to clear them out.

While it might not seem like much, making the extra room in my head helps. I can't think straight when every nook and cranny in my brain is full of mind clutter.

 Cleaning up one mind closet at a time.

Colorado Dreamin'.

So I've been having some really odd dreams lately. Even odder is that I'm actually remembering some of them longer than the first 5 minutes I'm awake. I've heard that dreams are our brains' way of working out problems while we're sleeping, but I just can't see how some of them are working anything out at all. They're just, well, silly.


The other night in Dreamland....

Jacob, the Marine who lost his legs in Afghanistan 18 months ago or so, sought me out to go to the thrift store. Mind you, I've never met him in real life, as we know his wife, not him, so I was quite flattered that he wanted to spend any time with me. 

Instead of going to the typical thrift stores, we went to this big building with lots of corridors and rooms that didn't seem claustrophobic but airy. He was looking for something to surprise his wife, Ella, but he wasn't sure what it was. Finally, we came to the corner of the room, and there was a big dollhouse on the table. Because he and Ella are expecting a little girl in a few months, he was very interested. And as soon as he saw a little plastic Nativity scene that was in the shape of a ball that all the little characters fit in neatly. Sort of like one of those puzzle balls where you put the star block in the star-shaped hole. 

They wanted $40 for it, but he realized he'd left his money somewhere else, so he asked me to stay and watch to make sure nobody else bought it. While I was waiting, I noticed some sort of a lottery or bingo or something going on where they were giving little gifts away. As I watched the participants, I was acutely aware of the fact that I didn't want any of them to get Jacob's dollhouse, all the time sizing up the gifts that they were starting to fight over and trying to determine, if it was even worth getting a late start into the game.

It wasn't. So I decided to walk around and see some of the other rooms I hadn't seen yet. (So much for watching the dollhouse!) I came across a vendor who was set up in the stairwell landing. The shop owner was being told by the owner of the building he was no longer allowed to sell his wares, which greatly distressed me, because I found something I wanted. They were white flannel pajamas with all of the NFL team helmets on them along with a list of each player on the teams for the 2013 season. I knew that Hopper would love them, so I talked him into selling me the set I was already holding onto when he was told to pack things up. 

I wrote out a check, since he'd had to pack away his credit card machine. As I reached for the receipt, he held up my bra with a smirk on his face! (It was the same one I'd seen in the wash earlier in the day when I was washing laundry in real life. I remember thinking at the time that I really needed a new bra. It no longer really fits right after I've lost weight. Plus I had to remove the underwires after they snapped in half. So it really is a mess!) 

I was about ready to die of embarrassment when he started swinging it around! I told him he needed to give it back. Now! And he responded, "It's not doing you any good anyway. I mean, look at your physique!" Unfortunately, that physique looked the same in the dream as it does in the real world, so I was pretty much mortified at my lumpiness when I woke up. 

Obviously, it's time to get a new bra. I've lost just under 30 pounds since August, and while that's nothing compared to what I need to lose, it's a start. And losing that much weight really does change how a bra fits, so I'm thinking I need to stop dreaming about it and actually go shopping and do something about it.

Still, I wonder, if Jacob got the dollhouse and what Ella thought of it.

They really DO exist!

In spite of the fact that I am feeling better than I have in well over a week, I'm getting a bit tired of the nightly visits from the Phlegm Phaeries. And while I have not personally seen them during their visits, I can attest to the fact that they do exist.

From what I've ascertained, they have magical bags of phlegm that they carry around-much like Santa's magic bag of toys. No matter how much phlegm they loosen from its insides and pass around, the bag never seems to lose any of it's ooey gooey grossness. And one thing's for sure, those Phlegm Phaeries are generous to a fault! They just give, and give, and give. 

I'm pretty sure mine is a Phlegm Phaerie in Training, though. In her exuberance to impress the Phlegm Pharaoh with her skills, she's accidentally gone overboard and given me more than she was supposed to. I'm hoping he notices soon and gives her the proverbial boot.

You know. 

Before I give her the phinger.

Gurgling along.

My lungs sort of sound like Snap, Crackle, and Pop are in there trying to catch the herd of frogs that crawled in there to die. Stupid wheezing. 

Scooter had a much better day today than she did yesterday. Awhile ago, Hubster got Hopper and Scooter some used field jacket liners like the one he uses all the time, because they'd steal his and wouldn't want to give it back. They love them, but the liners look so much alike, they often grab the wrong one. So for a little Valentine's surprise, I took an old scrap of fabric and went all Laverne and Shirley on them.

I made a huge heart-shaped pocket on the right side, and then I cut out the initial of their first names and sewed them on the left breast. Hubster put the little heart shaped box of candy he'd bought them in the heart pockets, and tossed in a small box of conversation hearts. We left them on the couch, so the girls would see them first thing in the morning. They were thrilled with them, and Scooter wore hers most of the day.

Scooter was in a great mood all day and 'sang' and 'danced' all morning. Because Scooter is completely nonverbal, she doesn't actually sing, but don't tell her that! When she's panting in rhythm and tapping her foot, (especially while standing!), she's singing and dancing. And she was singing, dancing, and grinning from ear to ear most of her waking hours today, which was such a nice change after yesterday!

Hopper's day didn't go quite as smoothly. She had a bit of a meltdown, and we're not exactly sure why. She had a panic attack over Hubster changing from his thick wool long johns to a lighter weight pair. We have never figured out, (other than her OCD), why his long johns and running gear set off panic attacks and meltdowns, but it absolutely kills us that we can't seem to help her. Thankfully, medication does help some, but it still doesn't prevent it completely, and it breaks our hearts. Panic attacks and anxiety are hard enough to handle when you are capable of knowing what they are. They're doubly hard when you don't understand what's happening, and that they'll eventually go away. She was fine after Hubster left for work, but I'm sad she had to go through it at all.

I'm hoping the weekend is a bit more restful for all of us, since we're fighting off this crud. We need as much rest as we can get. Hopper seems to have already seen the worst of it and is on the mend, but Scooter and I have a ways to go. 

Hopefully, we can sing and dance our way through it.

Of Dying Frogs and Honey.

Lately, I've had the worst time trying to concentrate. It's as though someone is sitting on the remote that controls my thoughts and their butt is sitting squarely on the + button causing the channels to change at a dizzying pace, all the while an elephant sits squarely on my chest making breathing close to an impossibility. I have to remind myself that the elephant will eventually get bored and will move on, but for now nebulizers are the only thing that helps, and they don't last nearly as long as I'd like them to. This junk that Hopper brought home and decided to so generously share with Scooter, Hubster and me is awful. I'm hoping the stupid elephant clears out soon and takes whoever is sitting on the remote with him. 

The last few days, I've worked on things that are on my master list that don't take too much energy. I've mended, altered, and added new elastic to a dozen or so of Scooter's skirts. She's thrilled, because she absolutely adores skirts, but I really do need to get it finished up soon, so I can reclaim the kitchen table for meals once again. It's harder to get anything done with the girls home sick, but ...(this sentence was interrupted by the need to clean up the remains of a wall plaque my parents got me that was broken by Scooter in a fit of irritation)...I'm hoping to finish them up tonight when they finally go to bed.

I feel horrible that I made Scooter feel bad about breaking it when I yelled at her. She has this habit of intentionally breaking things when she's not happy. She's done everything from chucking dishes across the room to bending/tearing toys in two, to ripping her necklaces and bracelets that she absolutely loves into pieces when she's angry. It's been very frustrating for all of us. She also has a habit of going over to a hanging plant we have in the living room and pushing it so it swings when she's irritated. And I don't think Scooter broke the plaque on purpose, but I think she figured she'd make it swing like she makes the plant swing back and forth when she's mad. To be fair, she isn't feeling well today, but I really do wish there was a way we could curb this behavior. We've been dealing with it for 20 years now, and although she's gotten better and not doing it all the time, she still can wreak havoc when she's riled. She apparently has her mama's temper from what I understand. 

My younger self pleads the fifth at the mere suggestion.

When I talked to Bugster the other day, she said I sounded like a dying frog. I feel like one, too. And the only thing that seems to quell the cough is honey. 

So I'm off to feed the frog.