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    • Archive for January, 2010

    Winter Wonderland


    2010 - 01.29

    Tags: , , ,
    Posted in Hooping the Half, Kitties & Puppies & Marriage | 1 Comment »

    Outside the snow is falling, school children are hollaring, “Whoo-hoo!”  Pretty sure every school in a two-state radius is closing for the (predicted to be epic) snow storm.  Since I love snow–and I did a week’s worth of grocery shopping on Wednesday–I’m totally cool with a blizzard; if all else fails, Savvy can pull a sled to Kroger.

    Speaking of the dog, her initial reaction to the fluffy precipitation was that of any normal German shepherd: she peered suspiciously at the falling flakes, waiting for proof of their (certain) intent to destroy her family.  I packed snow around one of her favorite balls, sure this would make a positive association.  Instead, she yelped with concern for her toy, slapping the proffered ball with her paw and whining, finally snapping at the white crust–and then she was still.  She leaned in again, sniffing, then licking, emphatically chomping at the snow.  Once she figured out that snow is edible, the entire world truly was transformed into a wonderland where tasty treats (akin to the marvelous ice cubes that are stored away in the fridge) simply fall from the sky.  We frolicked, she enjoyed the chilly snacks, and Hubby recorded the moment.

    In other news, Hooping the Half training is going well, though this week’s practice will probably be canceled.  I keep neglecting to send a profile to Sunny to post on our website, because I don’t have anything inspirational to say about breast cancer, except that it sucks, I’m damn lucky and blessed that no one in my family has suffered from it, and I really wish we could figure out how to make it go away. . . but it feels almost irreverent to speak in such a fashion about this horrible disease that affects so many people.  I’ll keep thinking about it.

    Bandit is talking to the snow outside the window.  For anyone who has a cat, she’s making those goat-esque gurgles that end with an “ack-ack.”  She’s probably scolding the (remarkably fat) robins outside for being on the other side of the glass and thus impossibly out of reach.  For my own amusement, I like to think that, if it were possible for her feline throat, her cat-calls would have nothing to do with her desire to hunt and would instead be something like this: Star Wars fans, don’t hate ;)

    Hear Me Roar


    2010 - 01.19

    Posted in Hooping the Half, Kitties & Puppies & Marriage, My Madness: Writing | 1 Comment »

    I made my list of New Year’s goals, wrote them in a pretty blue notebook, and reassured myself that these  would be attainable.  ”Heck,” I thought, “I’m being a bit modest–I could add several more. . .” but I decided against that,  reasoning that my “resolutions” could be reevaluated and revamped at a later time.

    Then Hubby got sick.  Always committed to going full-throttle, he got really sick.  Epic sick.  In my attempts to babysit him after the thermometer incident, I stayed up until 4 AM, slept (fitfully) until 9:30 AM, then begged our babies (1 dog, 1 cat) to not be overly angry about their late breakfast/walk.  Amidst the fog of sleep deprivation, the whole hooping a half marathon seemed. . . less rational than I’d first thought.  And what about finishing my draft?  In December, heading into the hectic holiday season, I’d promised myself two weeks alone to finish the draft, come hell or high-water, but I could never have anticipated the Epic strep/infection/flu.

    Then I remembered, “Oh yea, I’m a woman. . .”

    I nursed Hubby, through coughing fits and high fevers, I nursed him, and in those witching hours of the night I read as many horribly boring history books as possible.  Why?  To reinforce that I am stubborn disciplined enough to accomplish anything.  I juggled the dog and the cat (not literally, of course–the dog would probably cooperate, but the cat would have none of that), modeling my wardrobe after that of the Michelin Man as I braved freezing temperatures to run laps around the yard with Savvy, and choking down (horrible) herbal teas that would prevent me from catching cold as I snuggled with Bandit.  I attended 3 Zumba classes in 3 days and, trust me, if you’d met Kyya–one of our awesome Zumba instructors–you’d know why that alone deserves a medal.

    And just yesterday I attended my first Hooping-the-Half official Hoop Walk (and after, I forced my reluctant muscles through a Zumba class.  Masochist–who, me?).  I am woman. . .

    . . . and the first draft of my novel is finished.

    Damn You, Bill Nye


    2010 - 01.08

    Tags: ,
    Posted in Kitties & Puppies & Marriage | 2 Comments »

    Let me preface this with a(n emphatic) declaration: I love my hubby, and would not want to be without him.

    Some of you can now probably guess, based on the title, where this post is heading.  Hubby fell ill several days ago.  A trip to the doctor revealed that he had, somehow, contracted streptococcus (or strep throat).  The doctor reassured him that he would be just fine in a week’s time and wrote a prescription for trusty ole penicillin.

    Feeling uncharacteristically nurturing, I braved freezing temperatures to gather the proper ingredients for homemade chicken noodle soup, stocked up on Puffs Plus with Vicks, downloaded some movies via the internet, and prepared to mother my poor hubby till bacterium do part.  Yet I blundered, I made one critical oversight:

    I forgot to tie him up.

    Terrified that he would infect me, Hubby insisted I sleep in a separate room.  I eventually conceded, locking myself away from my beloved for a prolonged period of 10 hours, assuming he would use this extended time to sleep and not wishing to wake him early.  Yet upon my return to his side, I discovered he had been up half the night playing video games and watching television, collapsing in exhaustion around 3AM.  I should have gone out and bought the rope then, but how was I to anticipate the madness to come?

    Hubby boiled our thermometer to death.  I have no idea how or when; likely it was in the wee hours of the morn when I slept.  He developed a distinct odor, a menthol-and-salt-mix of Vicks and spilt chicken broth, that our dog finds irresistible (Savvy has been reduced to a sock thief, sneaking off to lick at the remnants of soup and crackers that seep from his pores).  Our cat is addicted to the tufts of Puffs Hubby leaves strewn about the house.  And then there is the internet.

    Anyone who has lived with a microorganism fanatic enthusiast can attest to their obsession interest in all things unseen-by-the-naked-eye (finger-lickin’ good does not exist in such a world–”Do you know how much staphylococcus is on your hands?!”)  Hubby is one such zealot enthusiast, as evidenced by our murdered thermometer (because the best way to kill bacterium is to expose it to critical temperatures, he has often explained).  The internet preys on such men, luring them into novella-length discourse on this or that bacteria, the various theories of how two or more strains interact and play upon the human body; a smorgasbord of topics for the interested researcher.  Even after receiving a diagnoses from a medical professional, Hubby’s finger becomes the proverbial stick, a google search his dead horse.  Today, we visited a different doctor to get a second opinion on Hubby’s strep throat.

    Tonight, I’m locking him in the bedroom and sleeping with the router beneath my pillow.  Hubby needs some rest, and I’m too cheap to buy another thermometer.

    And I have to ask–how do mums with three sick children pull it off?