Starting to Panic

Every year, for work, I travel to a conference in San Francisco area. I tend to line up the babysitters quite early because let's face it, it takes a special kind of person to care for 5 devils children for several days. Usually this person is Grandma. And it seems she is the only one truly crazy enough to put up with them. Unfortunately, crazy lady got a better offer. As if that was hard to do! SIGH!

So, I have been calling around trying to find someone totally affordable wonderful to live in my house for a couple of days and I am not succeeding. Anyone have any ideas for me? I know it's a month away, but I'm feeling a little desperate.

(The team I manage flies in from all over the world, and this is the only time we see each other all year. Believe it or not, face time is actually important for team building.)

Another excerpt about work

I know no one cares, but I really hate media companies! This one had better come through with some cash, after all of the hoops they have me jumping through at midnight

Romeo, Romeo. . .

Also known as: The Beauty of Having Older Siblings

Rebi is studying Romeo and Juliet in school. Apparently so are the rest of the children, as Ellie and Nate are recreating the final death scene with their stuffed animals.

Nate as Romeo: Juliet, I will kill myself if you are dead!
Nate as Juliet: Romeo, why did you have to drink the poison? I was faking my death! I will stab this knife down into my heart! (no animals were harmed in the making of this blog).

Insert lots of dying noises here.

Nate: And now, for an everlasting life potion so you can come back to life!
Ellie: Like in John 3:16? That whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish, but shall have everlasting life? I hate your version Nate. In the real one, they just die.

Countdown to destruction

Friends of ours own a company which sells watches to help children learn to potty train. These watches count down between bathroom visits. Quite a while ago, she sent me a sample of their watch. It was placed in a drawer and just recently unearthed.

Today, Nate was messing with it.
Nate (looking at watch): Mom, there are 23 minutes until the end of the world.
Mom: Wow, we should prepare.
Nate: Well, it is the END of the world

Right, nothing to prepare.
Later:
Nate: Only 10 minutes until the end of the world

Later:
Nate: Mom! Only a few more seconds until the end of the world! 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2. . .
(long pause)
Nate: hmm. I guess it's not the end of the world.

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY, REBI!!!!!!!

Holy Cow, she's 13! She's very sad that she has to take finals all day, but I'm pretty sure that's better than house hunting in the rain (her 10th birthday) or staying with people she barely knew while Nate was getting stitches and her presents were in the middle of a pile of glass (her 9th birthday when our glass table shattered all over the house. Yikes that was a mess!!)

Calling all Midol

Disclaimer: If you are not comfortable with the workings of the female body, this would be a post for you to skip. Don't say I didn't warn you.

With the RA (rheumatoid arthritis), there are a few things which make it worse. These are things I dread. After all, I quite like walking. At least for now. Even if most days I do look like I'm 80 already. In no particular order, those things are:

• cold wet weather, especially storms where the barometric pressure falls (and yes I am aware that I now also sound 80).
• stress (at this point, my life is so nuts that it really is only extreme stress)
• lack of sleep (I never get more than 6 hours a night, but anything less than that is excruciating).
• Hormonal shifts, primarily my period (which I should also note I only get warning for in the way my hip hurts. Seriously. How can the two possibly be related?)
  

It's been raining for a few days now; we've had a friend of Rebi's staying with us since last Sunday; I have been working round the clock to get the stupid accounting mess figured out at work and I'm still not able to make it reconcile within less than $1000.00. I can't go into the stress portion of my life without violating confidences trusted to me by my friends, but the stress in several areas is sky high right this second. (have you ever noticed how one friend will share something and then the phone starts ringing and you spend days listening to secrets? Does that just happen to me? People have always had a compulsion to tell me things, which I am fine with, but it's always feast or famine for the personal trials).

So, when I woke up and felt that familiar and peculiar pain gnawing at my hip, I just rolled back over and grabbed another blanket. Someone bring me the Midol, please! (And maybe an exorcism since I seem to be channeling Faulkner today. He loves the parentheses too).

I love itunes

It's a weakness I'm sure I have mentioned before. I love the itunes. My most recent favorite is the song "Fairytale" by Sara Bareilles.

Here's a snippet of the lyrics:

The tall blonde lets out a cry of despair, says
"Would have cut it myself if I knew men could climb hair
I’ll have to find another tower somewhere and keep away from the windows."

You’re so worried bout the maiden,
though you know she’s used to waiting
spent her whole life being graded on the
sanctity of patience and a dumb appreciation
The story needs some mending and a better happy ending.

Wait, maybe I lied. I might be more enamored of Siouxsie right now. Her "Mantaray" album is thus far quite good. I'll let you know if I find a song I hate.