They Have Created A Monster!

So, in my new role for this school year, I am leaning sign language. The kids are delighted to be teaching ME, rather than the other way around.

I picked up the REALLY important stuff the first two days: "more", "cookie", "please", "sorry", "Good morning", "bus", "what", "which", "sit", and so forth.

Today, they started teaching me the signs for various foods: potato, bread, hot dog, taco, broccoli, banana, strawberry, spaghetti, oatmeal, blueberry, soup, cereal, lemon, bacon, toast, sandwich, cheese... I did pretty well when quizzed right after the fact, but the real kicker will be when I remember them tomorrow, or even a month from now. I've been told to prepare myself mentally for a "test" tomorrow.

I've been coming home and signing all that I can remember to JF and Offspring, and tonight at the dinner table, the following conversation occurred:

Offspring: (as she's walking to the dining room from her bedroom) "What's for dinner?"

JF: "Food!"

Me: (as she takes her seat) "Chicken, potatoes, and mixed vegetables. I know the signs for chicken and potatoes, and I know carrots and corn, but not peas."

(I proceed to demonstrate the newly-learned signs.)

Offspring: "Mom, you know -- I don't really care. I had enough of learning already today."

Feel the love, people.

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Speaking of school, we had a lock-down today because apparently come carjackers were in the area next to our school, and they were armed. After a harrowing afternoon involving many cops and police dogs and helicopters in the area, the all-clear was finally given. None of our students was harmed, and hopefully, no one got totally freaked by the experience, but stuff like that REALLY makes me nervous as all get-out.

Glad everything worked out.

Made the Grade!

My final grade for the summer quarter was an 87.84! While I would have *preferred* an "A", I'm content with a high "B." Not bad after 20 years away from college, no?

Commander Bun-Bun

In our house, we love animals. We are mainly cat people, though we like other types of animals, but all we co-habit with is kittehs.

JF and I both had dogs and cats while growing up, and the living with a dog wasn't something we really wanted to repeat. Not that there's anything at all wrong with dogs -- I guess we just find them too high-maintenance. Our cat doesn't really require much in the way of output on our part -- feed her, change her litter, and occasionally snuggle when she's in the mood. She was easy to take care of when we had a toddler running around the house.

So, the other day, Offspring and I happened to go into the pet store to get some dog cookies for my mother's Westies. We were going to take a trip out to Mom's while they were away to make sure the house was still habitable. Mom had someone coming in daily to make sure they had food and water, but she said she'd feel better if she knew that there was someone who cared about them to come and check on them. While we were in the pet store, there was a display full of the cutest little bunnies you have ever seen! They were all playful, and hopping around like mad. I immediately spied this one brown bunny in the middle of the cage, who was just standing on her hind legs, looking up at me. I think that's when I lost my heart to her.

JF wanted no part of bunnies. He said that bunnies stink, and that if we got a bunny, he was claiming no responsibility for it. AT ALL. The bunny would be our bunny -- Offspring's and mine -- and he would not clean up after any bunny, period. He just wanted that clear. Yep. Got it. Our bunny. Crystal clear.

After we came back from visiting Mom's dogs, we went to the local PetSmart. I got a rabbit starter kit compete with cage, bedding, treats, toys, food bowl, and water bottle. We took all the bun stuff home, and set it up underneath Offspring's loft bed. Once Offspring had cleaned up her room, we went back out to the small pet store to pick out the bunny.

The little brown bunny was still there, and I asked the clerk to let me hold her. I was just wanting to see if she was as sweet as she seemed. Offspring wanted one of the black-and-white bunnies, but I was all about Little Brown Bunny. She *was* as sweet as she seemed. She immediately snuggled up to my shoulder, and burrowed her face into my neck. I could feel her whiskers tickling my neck, and I was a goner. Offspring held her while I paid for her, and talked baby talk all the way back to the house to her. "It's okay sweetie -- we're almost home. One more turn!"

We named her Hershey. She's the cutest thing, EVER. The geniuses at the pet store didn't know whether she was male or female; "She came in a box marked female, but sometimes they're wrong..." And they had no clue how big she'd get, or how old she was. So, we're going with "female", and "still pretty young" because she's so little. She fits in your hand, and stretched from the end of your palm to the tip of your middle finger, so basically one hand length. So far, she like strawberries, and loves to lick Offspring's fingers. She's very placid, and content to roam around her cage or snuggle with you as long as you like. I guess I was missing the snuggling. Now, I have it in spades!

Surgery Update

I am recovering nicely, and expect the worst to be past me. The surgery itself, I don't remember at all. I just lay there in the chair as they hooked up my IV, oxygen, and blood pressure cuff. They asked me a few questions, and shortly after, the surgeon came in, ran two drugs into my IV line, and that was all she wrote. It seemed like only a few minutes, and they were hauling me up out of the chair to head to recovery.

This time around, I was feeling a lot less "out of it", and apparently wasn't talking nonsense. Or at least, none that anyone told me about. As JF was leaving to pull the car around, the nurse walked him out with my post-surgery instructions, and I heard her tell him, "The lights are on, but nobody's home", meaning I was still under the influence of the meds despite how lucid I seemed. Hey! I take exception to that! I came home, read for a bit, and once JF had loaded me up with my prescriptions, I napped off and on.

Woke up a little more sore than I expected today, but that was still well within normal range. I still feel like I got punched in the jaw, but it's not like I got punched in the jaw by Ali. It's more like I got an uppercut from a clumsy bodybuilder -- one who's strong enough to put some hurt on you, but uncoordinated enough not to land the blow to maximum effect.

The only good thing about this is that I only have one wisdom tooth left, so if that one has to come out, I shouldn't have to see the oral surgeon ANY MORE! He's a nice guy and everything, but I hate dental work. At least with him, over the actual dentist, I'm asleep for it all!

One Down, Nine To Go

Well, week one of classes is finished. I've turned in my first two assignments, and taken the quiz on Unit One. Now, all I have to do is participate in the online discussions, start on Unit Two, and wait for my grades for Unit One to come in.

This class is proving a little harder than I expected. It's an Intro-level class, and I expected it to be a little more about the abstract -- more of an overview, really -- but we've jumped in with both feet. I'm a little out of my depth, as the subject matter is something I'm not familiar with at all. I'm enjoying it, at least when I'm not stressing about getting my assignments in via scanning and uploading and chewing my nails waiting for grades.

Going back to school after almost 20 years is frightening in how same and yet how different it all is. Maybe if I were actually on campus, it might strike me in a different way. Back in my day, "computer skills" consisted of programming, not uploading and file sharing and online text/video chats with your professor.

At any rate, it's nice to be back in school. If you're interested, I will keep all of you posted on what grades I get.
--------------------------------

Edited to add:
First set of grades are in, and I got a 93.34 on Quiz 1, a 100 on Quiz 2, and an 80 on my Unit One project. I'm still waiting on the grade for the classwork from Unit One, but I hope it will be a good one. I'm a bit bummed by the 80, but it's a decent grade, and I have room to improve. The thing about this class is that there's the practical knowledge to learn and the application of said knowledge, and my downfall was not applying all that I've absorbed from the text into applied knowledge. I have to work on that. But, I have to look at it this way -- I can only hope that that 80 is my lowest grade, and go from there. Not a bad start.

Whine/Anti-Whine

Some of you lovely people read the Wednesday Whine, a sort of blog-Brigadoon that I've been involved with for quite a while. Some of you are not familiar with the concept, so I'll (briefly) explain:

A long time ago, a delightful bloggy friend named Phantom Scribbler hosted a weekly bitch-fest at her personal blog. It was a place where friends could complain and commiserate with each other over the joys and flops in their lives. It became a task too heavy for lovely PS, who allowed a collection of moderators to take over the idea and give it its own home. WW, as it is familiarly known, has been a great community, and I've greatly enjoyed taking part in it.

But, since I am colossally lazy, I have decided to repost here my submission for the WW, and this will keep all of you three dear readers updated on what's going on here at Chez KLee. Here follows my tale, told in whine/anti-whine format.

--------------------------------------------------

W: I'm in a bad bad BAD situation at work. It hasn't been very much fun for several weeks. Tensions are high, and with only 2 days of school left, we're all testy and short tempered. But, most of the bad bad BAD situation makes me look bad to everyone else, even if that isn't actually the facts.

A/W: Got accepted back to school, so that mitigates some of the bad bad BAD stuff. I'm excited about it. It will allow me to mark off one of those things on my major "To Do" life lists.

W: Was supposed to have a scholarship to cover cost of tuition for Summer Term at said school, only to find a bill for almost 3K (that I seriously DON'T have) in the mail today. Uh.....guys?!? Hello?

A/W: If I am still going to school, it'll get my mom off my back. Plus, President Obama is urging people to further their education in times of economic crisis, so it's almost like I'm *helping!*

W: Am still sick. Not as sick as I was about a month ago, thank God. But, still sick. And, apparently, I now have high cholesterol, too. Thanks for that! Sickness involved almost accidentally overdosing on migraine drugs the other day, and a cyst on my neck that will have to be cut out at some point. Trying to save the day surgery for after school is done so I don't have to work or move during the recovery process.

A/W: At least I DIDN'T overdose, though I had double vision and serious nausea. And, I gotta figure that every day I'm not taking the Great Dirt Nap is a good day. So, yeah -- I'll count being alive among the anti-whines these days.

Maintaining Radio Silence

Never fear, my faithful three readers -- I have not gone gentle into that good night. (When I go, there won't be anything *gentle* about it. I plan to go, kicking and screaming.)

I have been very busy, as the end of all school years tend to be.

*We are winding up all of our end-of-the-year testing, and trying to tie up all the loose ends for the children who most likely won't be matriculating on to first grade. This is also usually the time where we have many visits from irate parents who want to harangue us, even though we've been telling them the same basic information since the first marking period. What do they expect when they don't bother to help their child(ren) with their school work? How can they say they're really surprised that little Johnny is failing kindergarten when we can't even get you to bring him to school every day, much less with pencils and crayons; and nevermind with completed homework? Anyway...it's the same song, every year.

*Offspring is going to be a rising eighth-grader, and with that comes the rush to get her portfolio together so she can audition for the Arts school here in town in the winter for a entering freshman for the following year. We are pushing hard at her to really work on her artwork, but I don't think it's sinking in on her. I really want her to get in this school -- it's fabulous academically, and the potential for her personal growth there would be incredible. The options left open to us if she's NOT accepted I don't even want to fathom.

*Speaking of school -- I have applied to go back to school myself. More on that as it develops, but that's in the extreme infancy stage right now. Haven't even been accepted, but hopefully that's nothing major to worry over.

*I often joke about living in the tropics, but my joke was made real today by the monsoon JF and I experienced as we went out to do the grocery shopping. We headed out to Sam's, and by the time we got there, the water was coming down so hard you could barely see, there was hail the size of Tic Tacs, and the wind was blowing us around like a candy wrapper in an updraft. JF clambered over the backseat like a monkey to get the big golf umbrella for me while he took the teeny collapsible one. We might as well have not even used the blasted brollies for all the good they did us! We were soaked to the skin within minutes, the the wind turned my heavy umbrella into kinetic sculpture. Funnily enough, the small umbrella survived unscathed. The employees at Sam's got a hearty giggle out of our drowned-rat appearance, and they even made a sale with the strategically-placed beach towels at the front entrance. JF snickered endlessly at the fact the umbrellas did nothing to help us, and wandered around muttering about "great big old fat rain."

*We had a Girl Scout appreciation dinner the other night for the leaders in our local unit, and the decision was made to hold it at our local Carrabba's. Now, I'm not a fan of Carrabba's, and I wouldn't have gone except for the fact that it was our end-of-the-year, hand out all the certificates of appreciation type of thing. Our Service Unit Manager called three weeks ahead of time, and reserved their back room so that our large party would not disturb any of the other patrons. She called back the day before our gathering to confirm. Everyting seemed fine -- they had us down for 35 people at 7pm. I was the first to arrive the next evening, at 6:30, in order to do a little bit of decorating on the tables. I was told they were getting our tables together. When the others arrived, they tried to direct us to tables in the middle of the restaurant. They'd given the tables in the back room away. To two people. We asked to speak with the manager. He refused to asked them to move, or to help us in any way. We explained that we'd had that room reserved for over 3 weeks, and we'd asked for that room SPECIFICALLY because we'd be making presentations, and getting up and down a lot, and we didn't want to disturb other diners. He still refused to give us the room. We were on the brink of walking; 25 irate PAYING customers; when one of our ladies sweet-talks him into shooing the parties in the back room out of there as quickly as he can without being ugly AND free desserts for all of us. As we're shown to the table, the hostess is as rude as she can possibly be to me. I would have been happier anywhere else. I will NEVER go to Carrabba's again. I sense an angry letter in my future.

That's pretty much all that's going on here. Offspring took a Girl Scout trip to Orlando this weekend, so I'm just waiting for the call that her bus is trundling up the turnpike, and I should hie my fanny up to the meeting place to fetch her. Stay alive out there, people!

I Sang To A Goat In Your Bathroom Because I'm AWESOME!

>This is an interesting meme that went around my school's email. Follow the directions to compose your sentence, and post your version in comments, if you would so kindly oblige me! Have fun!

The title sentence is mine, obviously...

Pick the month you were born:

January-------I kicked

February------I loved

March--------I karate chopped

April----------I licked

May----------I jumped on

June----------I smelled

July-----------I did the Macarena with

August--------I had lunch with

September----I danced with

October-------I sang to

November-----I yelled at

December-----I ran over

Pick the day (number) you were born on:

1-------a birdbath

2-------a monster

3-------a phone

4-------a fork

5-------a snowman

6-------a gangster

7-------my mobile phone

8-------my dog

9-------my best friends' boyfriend

10-------my neighbor

11-------my science teacher

12-------a banana

13-------a fireman

14-------a stuffed animal

15-------a goat

16-------a pickle

17-------your mom

18-------a spoon

19------ - a smurf

20-------a baseball bat

21-------a ninja

22-------Chuck Norris

23-------a noodle

24-------a squirrel

25-------a football player

26-------my sister

27-------my brother

28-------an iPod

29-------a surfer

30-------a homeless guy

31-------a llama

What is the last number of the year you were born:

1--------- in my car

2 --------- on your car

3 ----------- in a hole

4 ----------- under your bed

5 ----------- riding a Motorcycle

6 --------- sliding down a hill

7 --------- in an elevator

8---------- at the dinner table

9 -------- in line at the bank

0 -------- in your bathroom

Pick the color of shirt you are wearing:

White---------because I'm cool like that.

Black---------because that's how I roll.

Pink-----------because I'm NOT crazy.

Red-----------because the voices told me to.

Blue-----------because I'm sexy and I do what I want!

Green---------because I think I need some serious help.

Purple---------because I'm AWESOME!

Gray----------because Big Bird said to and he's my leader.

Yellow--------because someone offered me 1,000,000 dollars.

Orange--------because my family thinks I'm stupid anyway.

Brown---------because I can.

Other----------because I'm a Ninja!

None----------because I can't control myself!

Woman On Fire

I know posting has been down to an all-time low here lately, and for that I'm sorry. I just don't how many ways I can say "I'm not dead yet, but I'm fresh out of blog fodder" without making your heads explode. I know *I'm* getting tired of hearing that, and it's my blog!

School has been a bug-bear. I seem to have the royal knack for pissing people off lately. There's a lot of pressure on teachers these days -- it seems like if we sneeze, we piss a parent or three off. I have a child who is a Jehovah's Witness, and while we don't want to offend the family, we DO still have to teach the child about holidays and the like. If for no other reason because we teach calendar skills, and if we ask what the holiday in March is, the answer would be St. Patrick's Day. That is not a deliberate slight to people who don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day, but we can't NOT teach that because one family doesn't approve. You know what I mean?

My new Girl Scout troop is going well -- there are 17 of them! I was worried that I wouldn't have enough to make up a troop (which is five) and here I am with one of the largest troops in our area! I'm liking it. Most of them seem very excited to be there, and they seem to be happy with all of the things we've done so far. I've got some not-so-attentive parents, but I chalk a lot of that up to the fact that I don't see them every meeting.

Juggling Freak's birthday is next week. I was torn with what to get him this year, and seriously considered a unicycle. He, understandably, wants to TRY OUT a unicycle first to make sure he doesn't kill himself on it. This sounds awfully cautious of him. This is also the man who wants to flamethrower our big oak tree in the backyard because it sheds bushels of leaves no matter WHAT season it happens to be. This is also the man who got on a wild hair at a woodpecker who was pecking our house, and would have killed it, had we actual firearms in the house and not just a black powder replica. Now, I freely admit that by the end of that particular situation, I would have gleefully killed that woodpecker myself for pecking my bedroom eaves at seven in the damn morning every Saturday. Instead, we tried all the things the avian vets recommended: nasty-tasting sprays, decoy birds, changing the wood out. None of that worked. JF finally paintball-gunned it away. I hope he didn't kill the bird, but I also hope he's too scared to ever come back.

Offspring is tempermental. It's the age. Half the time, she pretends we're not there, and when she's forced to actually --UGH -- *interact* with us, she does a lot of eye-rolling and grunting. Then when she wants something, I hear "Mommy...." She hasn't called me Mommy since she was about seven. Not unless she's angling for something. We've actually all been sick, and she's been more lovey since being sick. I think we all sort of revert to childhood when we feel unwell, and she's holding true to that.

Speaking of sick, we've all been passing around a virus of some sort within our family. I have spent most of this week with sinus congestion of massive proportions, so much so that I had supressed hearing in one ear due to cloggage on Wednesday. My throat has been so raw that I have honestly LOOKED FORWARD to taking NyQuil just for the numbing effect. I took Mucinex, which tastes like bug spray, just to get some relief. This illness, whatever it is, has kicked our collective asses in a MAJOR way this week. My throat is no longer on fire, but JF has been stumbling around with fevers of 102 and 103. Not good in adults. I'm surprised he's been able to function. I know I got all muzzy-headed, and I wasn't battling fever, just congestion.

So, that's all I got. Not much. Still alive, though not really feeling like "alive" fits after this week. Just surviving.

Nothing New to Report

I'm here, but have nothing of great import to tell you all about. I got off work early today to go to the local Girl Scout store to get some needed items for my troop meeting on Thursday, and then I went to Sam's Club, where I got some chicken sausage with mozzerella and roasted garlic for supper.

What a life, right?

I know. Try and stop yourselves from swooning from the glamor of it all.

And Once Again, All Is Right With The World

Offspring, who displays very little emotion lately except disdain and "I'm too cool for all of this" came up to me a little while ago, almost in tears. Her beloved iPod, which she got for Christmas, was somehow stuck.

My mother gave her an iHome dock, and we set it up last night because her cheapie CD player was no longer spinning with any regularity. I told her the iHome would not only play her iPod selections, but that it was also an alarm clock. Being that it's fericously hard to get her up at five-thirty in the morning, I forsee this coming in handy.

As she stumbles towards me in her haste, she says, with a note of panic in her voice: "Mom? Was there a certain way to remove the iPod from the dock?" I told her, "Yes -- remember? I showed you how to do it last night." And, I demonstrated the angle at which she was to remove the iPod.

She thrusts it at me, quivering with angst. "But, it's...like....STUCK or something! I took it off the right way, and now it won't do anything!" Listening to the earphones, I could hear that it did seem stuck in the middle of a song, and it was making this buzzy sort of noise.

I tried turning it off and on, and that did nothing, so I googled "troubleshooting stuck iPod" and came up with a list of several things to try. Apple's support page said to turn the "hold" switch off and on and then hold down two button simultaneously until the Apple logo appeared. It worked.

Offspring sighed a huge sigh and said, "Whoof! I'm glad -- I thought it was broken! Thanks, Mom."

See? I am still good for stuff!

Bingo!

Not long ago, JF came home with a "WalMart Bingo" card that he found online. We laughed about it, because a trip to El Diablo WalMarto usually involves about every slice of the demographic pie out there. Some of the categories on his card (the one linked above) were:

-- child without shoes
-- a visibly pregnant woman with a "tramp stamp" tattoo
-- frozen food item left to thaw in a random aisle
-- someone oblivious to the fact that they are in your way

Today, we ran into a few categories that weren't even ON the card, and one that we often wish would happen, but never seems to.

I did see a child with no shoes, but to be fair, it was a baby in a stroller, and most likely wouldn't have been wearing shoes anyway. The baby DID have on socks, at least.

There was a woman in slippers, but no hair curlers. She must have gotten a rude awakening when she left the store to find out that the heavens had opened and we were now about ankle deep in water.

There are *always* people who block an entire aisle while they try to decide: "BBQ chips, or Ranch?", and today was no exception. I think most of them know damn well that they're gumming up the flow of traffic, and they just don't care. Anything that puts the other guy out is a Good Thing in their eyes.

There was the kid trifecta -- one throwing a tantrum because Mama wouldn't buy her something; the trio of kids riding the cart by hanging off whatever space was available; and the siblings having a fight. JF espied one little girl pulling another (possibly her little sister) across the floor by her ankles.

There was the local-to-our-area freebie middle square -- the wildly dressed/wild hair art college student wandering around, complete with vacant stare and iPod turned up WAY too loud.

The one category that we sometimes long to see (but not nearly often enough) are the kids who TOTALLY DESERVE IT getting their butts whipped. We often see the mamas who will smack their beloved progeny for no reason -- Mama whaps Junior upside the head and says, "No, I TOLE you we wasn't gettin' no Pop Tarts today!" -- but I mean the really obnoxious kid who tells his parent to "shut up, stupid!" and who richly deserves a beating that never seems to come.

We hate going to WalMart, but it's a necessary evil. At least playing Bingo keeps us occupied.

Tales From the Schoolyard

Our little city is well-known for its sub-tropical climate, and lately has been no different. The temperature was 75 on Christmas. Really puts you in the holiday spirit, right?

It was unseasonably warm here. Until about three days ago. Then the cold and dreary, wet weather blew in, and we've had kids bundled up like the Michelin Man roaming the grounds for the last few days. (The sad thing is that it STILL isn't that cold yet, but it's on the way. the weather men say...I no longer trust the local ones. They're not even *trying* anymore! Their forecasts are: "It will be between 63 and 68." Huh? *I* can do that much, and I didn't go to meteorological school!)

At any rate, dismissal this afternoon, the kids were pulling on jackets as they left the main building. Most made comments about the cold. Two fifth graders walked by, and this is the little snippet of conversation I caught before they were out of range:

Big Boy: "Man, it's COLD out here!"
Other Big Boy: "Yeah, it's colder than a witch's....."
BB: "A witch's what?"
OBB: "I dunno, I forget the rest. But, it's colder than the coldest part of that witch!"

Sheer genius. And, no - they weren't modifiying the conversation because I was near -- fifth graders just don't care that much. They obviously have heard the "colder than a witch's teat" saw somewhere before, but probably didn't know what "teat" meant, so therefore forgot it. Ah, the joys of kids!

Maybe There's Something To Triskadecaphobia

Offspring twisted an ankle at some point during the weekend, and begged to stay home from school today. I let her, mainly because she's only missed one school day so far this year, but also because I didn't sleep well last night and it was a chance for me to make up some of that deficit. Does that make me a horrible mother? I'm sure it probably does, but I doubt I was in the running to win "Mother of the Year" before this, so it's a moot question, really.

On one hand, I did tell her that a condition of staying home was a trip to the doctor's office. And, in her favor, she didn't whine about having to see said doctor. (Offspring *hates* the doctor, and can work herself into a death spiral if there's even a hint of "injection" on the horizon, so this is a major step towards "I'm not faking.")

And, on the other hand, I have twisted and sprained enough ankles in my lifetime to know how miserable your existence can be with one. So, I opted to let her go back to bed, call into to work, and doze until 9, when the doctor's office opened. The doc's office said that they'd take her this afternoon, but that if we think she'll need x-rays, we'd have to traipse over to the ortho's as well. I told them that I didn't think it was that serious, but that I was thinking it was serious enough to require more than an Ace bandage and whatever comfort I could provide at home. Now, we just have to see what the doc says.

13 isn't treating her so well just yet.

You Be The Judge

We went back to school today, and it was HARD. I really got used to being a total slug who got paid for not working. Going back to work after the winter break is a slice of heaven compared with coming back after summer break, though.

One of my good friends called my classroom and asked if I could pop down to her room while she went out to the bathroom. I was happy to oblige, and started talking to her first graders. Some asked how my break was, and said "Happy New Year." One little girl raised her hand, and asked a question that gave me a moment's pause....

Student: "Mrs. KLee, do you know that song "Beat It" by Michael Jackson, back when he was black?

Mrs. KLee: "Yes, I know that song -- it came out when I was young. Back when he was black, huh? He's not black now?"

Student: "No, he's white now."

That's pretty bad if the six year olds, who weren't even BORN when he had his heyday know of his efforts to become Diana Ross. Needless to say, it was an interesting way to start off a new year.

Lazing About

Hi, all! Just a quick note to say that we're all still alive, and enjoying the time off. We have plans to head to CityOfMyBirth tomorrow to visit my family for the very last little bit of holiday gifting and assorted hijinks.

School starts back in exactly a week. I'm not looking forward to having to follow a schedule again.

Juggling Freak is busy playing with all his new gadgets, I've been messing with the Wii Fit that I got for Christmas, and Offspring has been MIA since about seven minutes after she opened the cell phone we bought her. (Thanks to all who offered advice about the cell phones -- we actually have had one for her for over a month, waiting under the tree, but I couldn't say anything about it here in case she read about it. Not that I'm "cool" enough to warrant her checking my blog with any regularity. Anyway.)

I hope all of you had a good holiday, and I send you all wishes for a great upcoming new year. May your 2009 be healthy, prosperous, and full of joy!

My Feet: They Hurt. A Lot.

Some of you may remember WAAAAY back that my feet have been bothering me. I was diagnosed with plantar's fasciitis in my right foot about two years ago. And shortly after that, I broke said foot, and the plantar's fasciitis went away. Until now.

About six months ago, my lefy foot started hurting in the same way my right had, so I self-diagnosed the PF and went out to get some lifts for my shoes. The pain didn't go away, and one night, after limping along like a hobo on a bender, Juggling freak insisted that I make an appointment to see the doctor. And I did.

I went to the doctor right around my birthday, which as you may remember was slap-bang in the middle of October. The doctor did absolutely NOTHING for me, not even giving me the benefit of believing that I knew what the pain in (now) both of my heels meant. He said that he doubted that I had plantar's fasciitis, but that he'd put in a referral to the orthopedist, and in the meantime, I was to wear shoes ALL THE TIME. Even in my house.

So, time goes by. October fades into November, and November into December. The pain gets better for about 3 weeks. Then, it comes back stronger than ever. There have been several nights where the pain was so intense that tears came to my eyes. I'm getting madder and madder that I paid my co-pay for a visit to the doctor that did nothing to help me AND that I still have no referral. Finally, after one too many painful evenings and one to many nags from JF, I call the doctor's office to complain that I STILL haven't gotten my referral. It must have worked, because -- Lo and behold! -- the very next morning, I had a call informing me that my appointment was a go.

I went to the Ortho yesterday morning, and STILL have hurting feet. The ortho ordered x-rays, which showed that I have very small bone spurs on my left heel, in both the front and back, and a smaller one on the back of the right. The Ortho Doc, however, says that "85% of the time, this problem self-corrects." He gives me these exercises to do (already doing them, which I told him) and tells me to get lifts for my shoes (already had them, which I told him.) He then goes on to say that I should take some ibuprofen for the pain, and maybe roll a frozen water bottle underneath my feet a few times a day. Yeah. Like I have time to do that.

He also says that if the pain doesn't go away with the exercises and the water bottle trick, to come see him in a month, and he may recommend physical therapy. Hooray. All I want is to not have to walk around in pain all the time.

In Which I Am A Twittery Teenage Girl

My friend (I'll call her "Small, But Sassy") and I have both long been sucked into the world of Stephenie Meyer's "Twilight." I had read books one and two back in the early summer, and had loaned them to S,BS shortly after. We were both hooked but good.

We both loved the storylines and characters, and quickly read and reread books one through three. (S,BS has read book four, which I have not yet done, but she plans to let me borrow her copy tomorrow.) So, when we heard a movie was coming out, we flapped out hands, said "Ohmigawd!" about ten times, and made plans to go.

We went to an afternoon showing today, and mingled with the hordes of Goths who actually braved the sunlight enough to venture out of their dank cubbyholes. We felt a little weirded out that we were probably the oldest people in the theater, but we settled back with popcorn and Cherry Cokes to drool over watch Edward. And everyone else.

I'd seen a lot of reviews that stated that the effects were not all that good, and the cast was full of "nobodies." S,BS and I both enjoyed it, and we plan to stay up late and talk about it on the phone while we paint our nails and trash what everyone in school is wearing. And then we'll look forward to the sequels we're sure are to follow.

The Weekend Is Getting Shorter

It seemed like the weekend went by way too fast, and I had no time to really get anything done.

I went out with a friend for a few hours on Saturday for fun and crafting, and then went to dinner on Saturday evening followed by the ever-scintillating pasttime: grocery shopping. We don't normally spend our Saturday evenings buying groceries, but we knew that Sunday was going to be chock-a-block, so we got it out of the way early.

On Sunday, I had to attend a friend's father's visitation. He passed away on my birthday, and the family was planning on a private funeral, so Sunday was really the only day that I could be there to support my friend.

Monday morning rolled around, bright and early. Way too early for my taste, actually. Which, sadly, leaves me with laundry undone and crafts uncrafted. I'm still working on Offspring's Halloween costume, which is almost done. I have to put the finishing touches on it, and then I promise to post a picture of her in it.

The Halloween crafts that I'm in the middle of making may get done, and then again, may not. Hopefully, I have time to finish those as well. If this weekend is any indication, then I think I'm in trouble.

Stuff I've Been Doing

As I mentioned in the post before last, I've been busy crafting. I had a craft team meeting a month or so ago that helped get some creative juices flowing.

Here are some pictures of things that I've been rolling around in my head for a bit...




Halloween is coming, Offspring and JF's favorite holiday. I have to dig out all the Halloween decorations and finish making Offspring's costume.




I have treat bags that I need to put together for my class, and now Offspring wants my little paper coffins with Gummy bones inside that were such a hit a couple of years ago for *her* class.





Not to mention all the other cute stuff that I see that I want to make, too! And then I've got to turn it all around and do it for Christmas, too?

Sheesh! Now maybe you see why I'm not blogging so much anymore!