Sippiness

S. D.: This straw has too much sippiness.

Mom: I know it's a skinny straw, but it's all we have. Just use it.

S. D.: (whining) No, it has too much sippiness!

Mom: Just use it or don't, but stop whining.

S. D.: (taking mom by the hand) Let me show you the sippiness.

S. D.: Slurp, slurp, slurp. See, too much sippiness.

Mom: (realization dawning) Oh, there's a hole in the straw! You can't get anything through it.

S. D.: (looking at mom like she's a complete moron for not getting it sooner) Yes!

Mom: Let me get you a new one.

I wonder how many new words have been coined by 4 year olds.

If I'm Going to Post, I'd Better Do It Now

I've been trying to post on here for several days now, but every time I think I'm going to do it once the kids are in bed, I fall asleep. A couple of times I've considered posting after putting the baby back to bed in the middle of the night, but the desire for sleep has won out each time. Now that the baby's ears are clear and he doesn't have a stomach bug, maybe I can grab a few minutes here and there to update this thing.

Of course the only reason why I have these few, precious moments is because S. D. is home sick with a cold (translation: she'll have another ear infection any day now and Little G. will too). Right now she's entertaining Little G. by dancing around to the music on a kid show. So far I've been able to keep her from breathing directly on him, kissing him, and I've been able to get her to wash her hands frequently. Of course, I hold no real hope that he won't also catch the cold, but I'm doing my best to try to prevent it anyhow. I have this fantasy that soon I'll be able to get back to posting 3 - 4 times a week. Maybe once Little G. is in school in about 4 years.

Happy New Year!

Good bye 2007! Hello 2008!

Looking back on 2007, our family has a lot to be thankful for.

1. We added a wonderful baby boy to our family.
2. S. F. is becoming more and more independent, which is huge for a 12 1/2 year old with Asperger's Disorder.
3. S. D. decided it was time to be fully potty-trained.
4. S. F. has begun to try eating new foods, which is another monumentous thing for a kid with Asperger's.
5. S. D. started pre-k, which she loves.
6. We had a beach vacation with perfect weather every day but one, and even then the rain was brief. That in and of itself is miraculous. Normally we have at least 3 nasty, rainy days.
7. G. was able to take several days off during the holidays which was a gift all by itself.

Aside from S. D. and Little G.'s seemingly perpetual ear infections over the past 5 months, 2007 was a very good year. I think 2008 will be even better.

New Year's Resolutions

Well, there are 3 days left in 2007. That means New Year's Resolutions.

My New Year's Resolution for 2008 is not to make any New Year's Resolutions!

• I know I'm not going to lose weight until I've stopped nursing the baby, because I'm not cutting calories until that's done and overwith.
• As for exercise, for the moment I'm only going to be able to fit that in on a regular basis if I chose to stay up at 3:30 after the baby wakes up in the middle of the night. I prefer sleep.
• I'll try to get and keep the house neater, but let's face it, the house is not going to stay uncluttered until the kids are grown.

So, I'm going to enjoy the last 3 days of 2007, knowing full well that I won't be feeling any guilt over breaking my 2008 resolutions a couple of weeks into the New Year.

Happy New Year!

Happy Christmas Eve!

Isn't there some law out there that moms aren't allowed to be sick over the Christmas holiday? Apparently, I'm the exception. This evening around 4:00 p.m. I got hit with nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea. I'm so happy that I only had a few gifts to wrap since Santa leaves his gifts unwrapped under the tree. :)

Hopefully this is only a 24 hour bug and I'll be better by tomorrow evening.

Merry Christmas!

12 Days of Christmas Tax Dollars

My BIL sent me this e-mail link: http://www.cdc.gov/women/owh/holiday/12waysSong.htm

I decided to go to the CDC website to make certain that this is a valid CDC link. Guess what! It is! I am so happy to know that all those hard-earned tax dollars are going to employees of the CDC so they can spend their time creating lyrics to the tune of The Twelve Days of Christmas. Before I heard this song I had no idea that in order to stay healthy I should wash my hands, bundle up for warmth, manage stress, not drink and drive, stay smoke free, fasten seat belts while driving, get exams and screenings, get my vaccinations, monitor the children, practice fire safety, prepare dinner safely, and eat well and get moving.

Up until I heard the lyrics to this song, I had been

1. running around with grimy hands all day
2. not wearing a coat in cold weather
3. letting stress run my life (okay, maybe this one is true, but you try dealing with two sick kids, a kid with Asperger's Disorder, and no sleep and try to manage stress!)
4. knocking back a bottle of wine and getting behind the wheel
5. smoking 4 packs a day
6. driving at break-neck speeds without a seat belt
7. not going to my doctors for annual exams
8. stabbing myself with rusty nails secure in the knowledge that I haven't recently gotten a tetanus shot, nothing like lockjaw
9. not watching what the children are doing (Go ahead, Honey, play with those matches, I won't watch what your doing!)
10. burning fires in the middle of the living room without benefit of using the fireplace (See number 9)
11. cross contaminating the food as I prepare it by putting vegetables and meat on the same cutting board, and
12. sitting in front of the t.v. eating potato chips for dinner!

Thank you federal government for spending our tax dollars in such a wise and constructive way! Without you there to tell us the patently obvious, what ever would we do?!

Our Tree

This year G. was bound and determined that we were going to get our Christmas tree early. Absolutely no waiting until the weekend before Christmas, which is what normally happens in our household. Last Saturday we went to the tree farm to pick our tree. This is a "new" tree farm to us. We've only gone there for three years. The trees at this place are great, but the people are not. The woman who takes your money gives me the feeling of a grinch dressed up in a people costume. She definitely exudes I'd rather be any place but here doing anything else but this, but they have great concolor firs. The farm we used to go to had great people, but their concolor firs have become very sparse.

For me the only tree to get is a concolor fir. They have soft needles and firm branches. You can shove lights all the way to the trunk of the tree without needing a first aid kit afterward, and the branches are hardy enough that you can hang extra heavy ornaments on them.

So we bought the tree on Saturday, put it up on Sunday, and I got the lights on it by Tuesday. Currently the only ornaments hanging on the tree are ones S. D. made in her pre-k class. I won't start decorating the tree until S. F. can participate, and she can't participate until all her homework is done. This week she didn't get homework finished until right before bedtime each night, and since she didn't even start working on homework until 8:55 p.m. last night, we still won't have the tree decorated until the weekend before Christmas.

Scary Math

Okay, I'm officially scared. S. F. asked for help with her math last night, and I couldn't look at it because of Mr. Ear Infection. He is definitely going back to the pediatrician first thing tomorrow morning!

So, this morning before S. F. got up, I picked up her worksheet and mathbook in order to figure out what it is that they're doing. I figure since she's almost a teenager, she's going to start thinking we're complete morons soon enough, so why give her any proof? ;) Here is the scary part...the math was EASY. Not only that, I actually had fun solving the problems. I think I need to get out more.

Santa Claus

S. D.: How does Santa get in your house?

Mom: Magic.

S. D.: What kind of magic?

Mom: Special Santa magic.

S. D.: But where does he come into the house?

Mom: Through the chimney.

S. D.: But we have a big thing in the fireplace. (She means our woodstove insert.)

Mom: Yes, that's why he uses magic.

S. D.: But he's really fat. How does he get through door?

Mom: Magic.

S. D.: No, the reindeer have to push.

Torture

If sleep deprivation is considered to be a form of torture, does that mean we can sue our children when they grow up? Just a thought. Can you tell that I haven't gotten much sleep lately?

Please, TEACH YOUR KIDS and GRANDKIDS about SAFETY!

S. F. was staying late at school yesterday to work with her friend on their history project. I figured this would be the perfect time to take S. D. and Little G. grocery shopping since I had an extra hour and half before I had to be back up at the school. Okay, there's really no perfect time to take a 4 year old and an infant shopping, but this was as good as it gets.

I admit that I am a paranoid shopper when it comes to my kids. If my 12 year old isn't with me, then the 4 year old is in the basket of the cart. The only time my 4 year old gets one of those mini "customer in training" carts is on those rare occasions when it's just the two of us, and everything I need can go in that cart. I absolutely will not let her have one if I have a cart of my own and my 12 year old isn't there. I can't keep a close enough eye on her otherwise. If it's just the baby and me, my hand never leaves contact with the shopping cart. It's too easy for someone to walk off with the cart while your back is turned. I've taught my kids that if someone grabs them to scream at the top of their lungs, "YOU'RE NOT MY MOM/DAD! HELP! THIS ISN'T MY MOM/DAD!" That way other shoppers won't think it's just some brat having a temper tantrum.

So yesterday while I was shopping with S. D. and Little G. I saw a cute little girl in pigtails about 5 years old walking around the store with a "customer in training" cart. The first time I saw her there was an adult woman with a cart about 5 feet away, so I figured that was her mother and didn't think twice about it. The next time I saw her there wasn't an adult anywhere in sight. I stopped and asked her if she was lost. She looked up at me somewhat bewildered. I said, "Have you lost your mommy or daddy?" She said, "Yes."

At this point I expected some frantic woman to round the corner any moment, but no one did. I looked quickly around the next two aisles and didn't see anyone in sight, so I said, let's get you up to the front desk so we can find your mommy. She looked up at me and said, "Okay, but I want to see the horsies." Of course, because it's the Christmas season, the grocery store, the place that's supposed to be selling food, has to have giant, overstuffed horsies to sell to the little children. Who knew that the grocery store decided it had to be ToysRUs. I said, "Well, the important thing is that we find your mommy first." Of course, I was beginning to get a little paranoid. What if mommy came round the corner and thought I was trying to abduct her child. So I looked at the little girl and said come with me, we're going to find your mommy. She happily followed along with her little cart. I was now desperately looking for a Harris Teeter employee so I could let them know I had a lost child. On my way up to the customer service desk, I found an employee and told her about the little girl.

Finally the kid's caution began to kick in, and she didn't want to go with the store employee without me; so we all went up to the front desk to page the girl's parents. This is where it gets worse. This little kid only knew her first name. She had no idea what her last name was, nor did she know her parents' names. The clerk paged Maya's lost parents, and we waited. This whole time there had been no sign of anyone desperately looking for a lost little girl. The clerk paged for her parents a second and a third time. Finally grandma shows up at the front desk.

There was no sense of urgency or worry about the woman. All she said was, "This is the last time I let you have one of those little shopping carts. You can do that with your mother. Come on, we're going to be late meeting Daddy at his appointment." The clerk looked at her and said, "Is this your grandma?" The little girl nodded, and then said, "I want to go see the horsies." Now grandma asks the clerk, "What time is it?" and when the clerk told her the woman started complaining about about how she'd already wasted 40 minutes, and she was going to be late. She then tells the kid to come on, turns her back on her, and takes her groceries to the checkout, without even making certain the little girl was following her. The kid didn't make a move to follow her, and instead looks up at me and repeats that she wants to see the horses. I looked at her and said she had to go with her grandma and walked her over to the checkout line myself.

What I wanted to do was to scream at this woman for being so seemingly unconcerned about the whereabouts of her granddaughter. I wanted to yell, "What the hell is the matter with you?! Not only do you not seem to care that your 5 year old granddaughter was missing for at least 10 minutes, you're not even keeping an eye on her now! Why haven't you and her parents taught her about stranger danger?! Why doesn't she know her last name or her parents' first names? Why aren't you freaked out by any of this?!" Of course I didn't, because I had my children with me, and I didn't want to upset the little girl, but I am upset with myself for not saying more than, "Here's your granddaughter, I'm glad I found her."

I'm certain that if I had told this child to come out to the car with me to find her mommy, she would have done so. I spent the rest of my grocery trip playing "show me the store employee" with S. D.

I'm still shaken up about this and it's the next day. Please, please teach your kids about being safe.

Turkeys

Mom: Okay you two, get your jackets on while I put the baby in the car seat. We're picking up pizza, because your dad's working late, and I haven't been able to cook since the baby's been sick all day. S. F., help S. D. get her coat on. S. D. cooperate with your big sister.

S. F.: You're a turkey. (Continuation of turkey argument from earlier in the afternoon)

S. D.: You're a turkey.

S. F.: No, you are.

S. D.: No, you're the turkey!

Mom: That's it! I don't want to hear anyone call anybody a turkey another time! No more! Get out to the car. S. F., help your little sister get into her car seat. S. D. cooperate with your big sister, because I asked her to help you.

Mom: Okay, is everybody buckled? Yes? Good, let's go.

S. D.: (ever so sweetly) Mommy, I sorry I argued with my big sister and called her a turkey.

Mom: (pleasantly surprised) Why thank you, sweetheart. It's very nice of you to apologize for acting that way.

S. D.: (whispering) S. F., you're still a turkey.

Mom & S. F.: (unsuccessfully trying not to crack up) S. D., that's not nice!

S. D.: (giggles)

I think we're in major trouble.

28 More Shopping Days Until Christmas and 2/3 of the Kids Are Sick

I'm definitely doing most of my Christmas shopping via the Internet this year. S. D. and Little G. are both on antibiotics for ear infections, and now they are both coming down with colds on top of the ear thing. Another reason for not going out in public to shop is that the baby has now developed a new and interesting skill; he's able to throw up his sinus drainage all down my back without getting a speck on him. I'm on my fourth shirt today. Since I can't constantly change clothes while I'm out, I'm just staying home and ordering in so to speak. I am choosing to look on the bright side of this new skill; since he gets it all over me and not him, I don't have to dry his tender, young skin out with multiple baths per day. ;-)

As I've been watching the t.v. coverage of all the Christmas shoppers out there trying to get the best deal, I've become thoroughly disgusted. Don't get me wrong, I'm not becoming the Grinch; I think it's quite the opposite. I think as we rush around trying to buy something for everyone, we lose sight of what it is we're celebrating. I'm looking forward to spending time with my extended family on both sides, searching for the perfect tree, decorating the house with the husband and kids, playing my Trans Siberian Orchestra cd's until the kids beg me to play something else (Mommy loves Christmas music that ROCKS), and staying up late on Christmas Eve trying to get everything done at the last minute. However, I'm not looking forward to nasty, rude people pushing and shoving trying to get the last electronic gizmo that's all the rage this year.

I think we'll simplify the gift giving in the immediate family this year, trying to put careful thought into the presents for Dad and the kids. If I were a talented, creative, craft oriented person, I'd make extra special gifts from the heart for the rest of my family and friends. Since I'm none of those things, I hope that as you open your gift card or Harry and David gift basket, that you realize the good intention was there. ;-)

Merry Christmas!

The Christmas Quest: Part 2

I have found a great toy website. The site is http://nmctoys.com/about.html. Absolutely none of the toys on this site are made in China.

The site was created by parents of two small children who decided to make certain that there were good, safe, quality toys that would last available for parents to buy for their children. They even want you to let them know if the toy doesn't last! They're not manufacturers; they simply find good, safe toys that are made in America or Europe. I've posted their link on the side of my blog.

Happy shopping!

From Anger to Grateful in Under 60 seconds

To say I was in a bad mood yesterday morning would be an understatement. It all started the night before and carried right over to the next morning.

Monday evening the girls had been sniping at each ever since they got home from school, the baby wouldn't stop fussing as I was trying to cook dinner, I had been trying to fold a pile of laundry on the sofa off and on all day, but every time I started folding something would interrupt me, like the baby crying, the phone ringing, the baby poohing, the cat throwing up, the baby crying, the cat getting into the trash, the baby poohing, the cat throwing up, the phone ringing, etc. In the middle of all the evening chaos, I walked into the living room only to discover that the 4 year old had knocked over the part of the laundry that I had managed to get neatly folded. I lost it. I had one of those, "If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times!" tirades with both of them. I did get an apology from both of the girls, but I was still totally annoyed. I went to bed tired and grumpy, and I woke up tired and grumpy yesterday morning with a full day ahead.

Each year the kids' school has Grandparents' Day, which is a really big deal with performances from each grade, the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I woke up, fed, bathed, and dressed the baby, got the 4 year old ready for school in an absolutely gorgeous heirloom dress that her grandmother made for her, woke up the 12 year old, got breakfast for the 4 year old (okay, it was just a pop tart, but I had to hover over her making certain she didn't get blueberry filling all over her pretty dress), and feed the cat all before having a cup of coffee. Usually G. helps out with getting the kids ready on mornings like this, but he had to log in to work instead because of an issue that came up. After he got off the computer and showered, he took the kids to school so I could get ready.

I placed the baby in the infant swing, got in the shower, and as soon as I lathered up, the baby began to scream and scream and scream. So I rinsed as quickly as I could, but apparently not quickly enough, because I ran out of hot water just as I was getting the shampoo out of my hair, dried off, and picked the baby up to comfort him. For some inexplicable reason, he was inconsolable. I checked his diaper; it was still dry. I tried to nurse him; he wasn't interested. I tried feeding him some cereal - no deal. It didn't matter what I did, he just kept crying. I toted him around with me as I tried to get dressed. I went into the bedroom to get into my skirt and top only to discover that the elderly cat who has problems getting everything off her butt had lain on them and messed them up. I hurriedly found a dress that would fit, put the baby down on the bed (still screaming his head off), squeezed into my pantyhose, put the dress on, packed the bottle bag that my 12 year old forgot to pack when I asked her, and frantically searched for dress shoes that would go with my dress but wouldn't kill my feet. Since staying home I've learned the joys of wearing nothing but comfortable shoes 363 days out of the year.

While trying to do all of this, my husband kept calling every 10 minutes to let me know where the cop was shooting radar, where he was sitting in the gym, to ask when I'd get there, etc. Finally my phone rang and luckily I didn't get to it in time, because I probably would've answered without looking at the caller i.d. shouting, "What the he#% do you want now!?! I'm trying to get out the door!" It was my MIL calling to say she wasn't feeling up to coming to Grandparents' Day. Boy was I glad I had to call her back instead of answering the way I almost did! I called G. to let him know his parents weren't coming, found the video camera, took it out to the car, stuffed the screaming baby in his car seat, and left the house. The baby fell asleep just before we got to the school. I carried his car seat into the gym, plopped him down in front of my husband, said, "Here's your demon spawn. Where did they set up the coffee pot?" The theater teacher was within earshot and commented about how he was glad he doesn't have kids when he hears statements like that. I told him it's still worth it and recounted the last cookie story about my 4 year old, but only half-heartedly, and off I went to get my caffeine fix as well as a sugar laden pastry.

By this time I was concerned about my MIL, frustrated with the baby, ticked off at my 12 year old for not doing the one thing I asked her to do to help out that morning, annoyed with G. for constantly interrupting me while I was trying to get out the door, hungry, and feeling not at all in a thankful frame of mind. Admittedly, I felt a little bit better after a hit of caffeine and putting sugary food on my stomach, but only a little. I made small talk with a couple of parents, and a teacher who has an ailing parent in another country. Then I ran into a mom whose child has cystic fibrosis. I asked her how her daughter is doing and found out about the pneumonia that had recently caused her to be hospitalized, the sinus surgery she recently had to have, and some of the other health problems she's battling as a kid with CF.

I made my way back to the gym. By now the Little G. was wide awake and behaving like a perfect little cherub. A few minutes later the pre-k class marched in wearing adorable turkey headdresses for their musical performance. S. D. looked beautiful and was obviously happy to be there. Suddenly I was no longer irritated with my family; I was thankful to have them and knew I'd rather be there than anywhere else in the world (even the Bahamas with a pina colada in hand).

It turned out to be a wonderful, patriotic program. The school even chose not to hit us up for donations during the program, and that's something to really be grateful for!

Yea! The Baby Has an Ear Infection!

I know it sounds odd that I would sound happy that the baby has an ear infection, but let me put it in perspective for you. I'm not at all happy that he's not feeling well, but when you have one child with an ASD (autism spectrum disorder), you watch your others like a hawk for any early signs that they, too, might have an ASD.

So when the baby started to refuse any care from anyone but me like his oldest sister did, started crying at the sight of anyone else but me like his sister with the ASD did as an infant, started to show signs of regression by absolutely refusing to eat "solid" baby food and screamed at the sight of the spoon, you can see where I would start to get a bit worried. He also stopped rolling over on the floor, but instead just laid there looking around, and after a few minutes he would fuss and cry for me. I was actually relieved when he started to run a fever and would pull off screaming from nursing. I thought, "Aha! Teething or ears!" I was relieved when yesterday the doctor confirmed that he has an ear infection.

The one thing that does concern me greatly, however, is that like his oldest sister, he became very cranky days before he had any other symptoms. Prior to this ear infection, he had no cold symptoms or anything else. S. F. always becomes a beast days before she shows any symptom of an illness. If G. and I look at each other after a few days of absolute, total frustration with her, and start saying things to each other like, "Has she been driving you as crazy as she has been me?" or "Have you been fantasizing about sending S. F. off to boarding school?" or "Gee, I can't wait until she's in college," we then know that she's going to be sick soon. Our NT (neurotypical) child, S. D. just gets sick. She might get cranky the day before she gets sick, but not 3 - 5 days beforehand.

So, I'm still watching him like a hawk, and toying with the idea of scheduling him for an evaluation with our developmental pediatrician at 15 or 16 months. But for now, I'm happy that he's letting me put him down again, playing with toys, rolling over, smiling at Daddy, and letting Daddy hold him occasionally, without screaming, now that the antibiotics are starting to work.

Bated Breath

S. F., my 12 year old, is writing a metaphor paper, and she's not allowed to use any cliches. They've been focusing on cliches so much that I'm having a hard time not noticing them in my own day to day life.

I was starting to write a post about keeping an eye on my 7 1/2 month old to catch any signs of autism. Of course in the first paragraph, I wrote about waiting with bated breath hoping that he doesn't have autism. Then it hit me, what the heck is bated breath!? I know it means waiting when something is going to take a long time and is difficult, but why bated breath? Why is it still part of our lexicon?

So naturally I stopped writing my post and went on an Internet search instead. I learned that the earliest written occurrence of the phrase comes from Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice in 1596: "With bated breath, and whispring humblenesse." Bated is actually the shortened version of the word abated, which makes a lot more sense, since it means to bring down, lower or depress.

I'll admit I was a little disappointed; I was hoping for something a bit more fun or interesting in the origin. Just as I was about to stop looking into it and get back to my post, I came across a cute poem by Geoffrey Taylor that makes a play of words on the phrase. Here it is:

Cruel, Clever Cat

Sally, having swallowed cheese
Directs down holes the scented breeze
Enticing thus with baited breath
Nice mice to an untimely death.

I hope my time wasting Internet search brings you a smile or chuckle as it did me.

Toothbrushes

I love my Oral B electric Braun toothbrush, but it has a major flaw. The back of the brush is rounded, not flat.

"So, the back's not flat, what's the big deal?" you ask.

Well, the big deal is that it's virtually impossible to get toothpaste on the brush one-handed. I realize that most people aren't trying to brush their teeth with one hand, but I am brushing my teeth one-handed on an almost daily basis.

I find myself holding the fussy, teething, acid-reflux complaining baby with one arm, while trying to place the brush between the Dixie cup dispenser and a lotion bottle with the other, in the hopes that it will stay steady as I try to gently plop a pea sized amount of toothpaste onto the brush, while praying that the dang thing doesn't roll over and put toothpaste all over the bathroom counter. Let's just say that some days I worry about the vocabulary I'm teaching my 7 1/2 month old baby.

Might I suggest to all of you companies who make products that mothers of young children use, that you actually have your testers use your products with a baby tucked under one arm in order to improve ease of use! :)

The Christmas Quest

Only 44 more shopping days until Christmas!

With all the toy recalls from China because of excess levels of lead and other wonderful poisons, I'm doing my best to find good, quality toys made right here in the good, ole U.S.A.

I've been able to find stuff for my 12 and 4 year olds on the web that are appropriate, but the baby is another story. Other than wooden blocks, a couple of styles of wooden rattles, and a wooden stacking toy, I just can't find baby toys appropriate for an 8 month old (that's how old he'll be come Christmas) that aren't made in China.

Even websites that say their toys are made in the U.S. or Europe have some toys made in China. They put disclaimers up like, "Made in China under the close supervision of put company name here." Like that's supposed to make me feel all warm, fuzzy, and safe about the toy.

As I find websites or stores that are featuring safe, American, lead-free toys, I'll post their links on my blog.

Wish me luck on my Christmas Quest!

Patience

My dad was a minister. He once told me that every time he prayed for patience, something bad would happen. He eventually reached the conclusion that God would send him tribulation in order to teach him patience.

Now, whenever we have a trying time, my husband jokes that I was secretly praying for patience. Needless to say, this is one of those times.

Little G. has decided that 15 minute power naps are the way to go. He is Super Baby - impervious to the effects of the infant swing, which puts mere mortal babies into a deep soporific state. It seems that the only way to get him to take a longer nap is to go for a car ride. Of course, when I'm driving the baby in the car to get him to sleep, all of those little things like laundry, dirty dishes, dusting, and clutter-busting don't get done. Let's not even mention the cost of keeping gas in the tank. Lately the way I've been keeping the family in clean clothes is to put a load in at bedtime and then getting up around 5:00 a.m. to put it in the dryer. This way the clothes are dry and unwrinkled for school/work. Of course if the power happens to go out, I'll be sunk.

So here's the deal: God, if you're listening, I don't need any more patience at the moment. ;)