So the desire to post is strong, but the desire to be creative is weak.  I have a sick little one, who collapsed on the couch in a heap after his playdate, and 60 minutes later was running a 102.5 degree fever.  Poor monkey.  And I have a two year old...a stereotypical two year old, fulfilling every cliche in the book these days.  Hittypants McThrowy Spit.  Yeah.  I'm waiting to write his "Dear Corben you're two" letter till I like him a little bit more.

Instead of trying to write when it's just not in me, I leave you with these few gems from our fun yesterday.

 (This photo?  Slays me!)

But look, he's OK!

And for today, mes amis, that is all.

Bye-bye 'tuff*

Since discovering our dream property a week ago, and partially because we've been off work with little to do but sit around and talk and dream, there has been a lot of just that - talking and dreaming about what our future might hold.

And since we are opening ourselves up to the possibility that our dream come true might be just around the corner, we have been going about my days with a sense of purpose. We've been researching, educating ourselves, learning new things.

We (or more specifically, I) have also been saying goodbye to old things.

Yes, there is a massive purge in progress here, people.

I've been starting slow - cleaning - going through cupboards and closets.  Every thing I pick up, I've been looking closely at.

I ask myself - When I move into my dream home, would I want to take this with me? 

And if the answer is no?  Sianora, stuff.

Because really, at the end of the day, if I don't want it in my dream home,why would I want it in this one?  If it isn't serving a purpose, making my life better in some way, then why is it here?  Now don't get me wrong...I'm not going totally bonkers crazy.  Like the bed that we currently own will NOT be coming with me anywhere past these doors, but sleeping on the floor would suck (only slightly) more than my current mattress, so it gets to stay.  For now.

It looks better in here already.  There is a pile of stuff at the back door that will likely make someone, somewhere, very happy.

And I am making me very happy too.

And that?  Is a good thing.

(* Imagine the post title coming from the cutest little two year old you've ever seen, in his sing song two year old voice, that likes to say bye-bye to just about everything in the room when he leaves it.  Or everything in the car as he drives past it.  It's one of the 239873 things that is adorable about Corben right now.)

Jennyear Resolutions

So, in case you haven't noticed, there has been some serious blog failing happening around here. There has been more than a few fails happening around here lately, blogging aside.

Exhibit A is here, you're reading it (or, lately, you haven't been at all because there is NOTHING TO READ.)

Exhibit B?

Laundry. But that exhibit is a permanent exhibit here, so we're getting used to it.

Exhibit C?

I am a wreck. There was the mystery virus, formerly known as Mono but then not mono. There is the cold sores, the weight loss, the exhaustion, and still, the go, go, GO!

I have not been taking good care of myself. I have been taking care of everything else, everyone else. But not that.

And so on and so forth.

So, time to do something about it all. Screw New Years resolutions, I'm making Jennyear Resolutions, and they can start whenever the heck I want them to.

So mwah!

I read something wonderful the other day, about more and less. It said you don't need to make resolutions of all the things you are going to DO. Don't make your goals so damn unachievable. Just keep it simple - what are you going to do MORE of, and of what are you going to do LESS.

(Now, if my darn head wasn't so scrambled in 18 different directions, I'd link to it, if only I could remember where it was. Help a girl out if you know the answer...)

So here is my list, 5 each. Five "do mores" and five "do lesses."

1. Less useless time on the Internet. Now, the key word here us "useless." There is a fountain of knowledge out there, on all kinds of useful things, and the fountain is not on Facebook. Now, facebook is darn useful, but only in dribs and drabs, not for hours.)

2. Less crappy food.(Which means more vegetables.)

3. Less of so many things at once. Do one thing (or three, maximum), really really well. (Ital mine, rest is John Sleeman.)

4. Less stuff. This house needs a massive perge. MASSIVE. EPIC EVEN!!

5. Less angry. I'm too darn angry. Life is short; find the joy.

More:

1. Water and excercise.

2. Reading (Note to self: Facebook is NOT reading. I'm taking BOOKS!)

3. Organization. I'm a damn Virgo, it's in my blood. (Sadly, so is ADD.)

4. Husband. We spend our days next to each other, working, but we often spend our nights apart, me soaping or internetting, him reading or movie watching. Stop that.

5. Quality time with the kids. QUALITY. Meaningful. Purposeful. Fun. Filled with Joy. Focused.

All in name of taking care of myself, so I CAN take care of others.

So there you have it. Ch-ch-ch-changes, I can feel them coming!

And it's good.

Thanksgiving

As per usual, Ontario shed it's grumpy October pants for a few moments this weekend, and we celebrated Thanksgiving in summery style. There were picnics, and tire swings, and rolling around on the grass. There was summer drives, and wanders down streets. There were evenings on the deck.

And there was turkey. And fresh veggies from the garden. Oh, were there veggies.

And there was my family - my beautiful children, my amazing husband, and my rockin' Ma. We had a delight of a weekend.

Riding the rollercoaster

Hello Blog. Or, shall I call you Blah-g. Because you are, kind of blah-g these days.

Or, is that me.

Whatever.

Things are happening around here. If you asked me what things, I'd probably have a tough time coming up with 10 things I've ACTUALLY accomplished since I last posted here almost a freaking MONTH ago, other than polishing off a few bottles of vodka and making some soap.

I have been making a lot of soap lately, that's true.

And then there are the children.

Holy heck, these little gaffers sure do take a lot of energy, don't they?

Griffin had a bit of a rough start to the school year, getting sent to the office THREE times in the first week.

He's in SENIOR FREAKING KINDERGARTEN, people.

He has since learned a few new important phrases - "Please stop, I don't like that" and "Please leave me alone, I need some space," which he is to use instead of his little hitty fists and kicky feet.

*Exhale*

Corben, on the other hand, is hurtling towards two at lightening fast speed. (This describes it all perfectly.) I did something I've never done before with him over the weekend...I left a wedding. Mid coctail party, not even at dinner yet, I picked him up, shoved him into his coat (kicking and screaming,) and walked out the door, leaving Steve and Griffin to fend for themselves.

He didn't want to be held. He just wanted to run. And I mean of course he did, he's nearly two. But he was running in and out of people, zipping between grown-up's legs, all over the room. And I was chasing him. Zipping through a crowd like that is one thing when you're cute and toddler-y, but when you're 35 and a stranger to everyone in the room but the bride and groom, it's less cute.

The LAST time I put him down that evening, I turned my back for 0.0076 seconds, and he was off like lightening. 5 steps ahead of me, he ran straight for the punch table, grabbed a wine glass off the table as he continued his sprint by, ran straight into the middle of the dance floor, and hurled the glass down into a crowd of 15 people, smashing it to 34 bajillion pieces.

And then promptly tried to escape in the other direction.

So there I am, one hand on the back of his shirt, trying to keep him from running in the opposite direction, or worse, back into the mosh pit of broken glass, and with the other hand, wildly gesturing at Steve to COME. GET. THE CHILD.

All of this, of course, while remembering to smile, because I didn't know a darn one of these people, and was likely going to have to eat dinner with at least a half dozen of them.

Oy vey.

*Exhale again*

After that, I was done with Corben, he was done with me (and more specifically, being held by me) and I knew I was fighting a loosing battle, so I hit the high road, and on the plus side, ended up spending a lovely evening with my friend Julia, watching Corben and Diego chase each other around in a fully child proof environment. Bliss.

SO, other than all that soap stuff, and all that kid stuff, there is seemingly eighty nine bajillion other things that need to get done in a week, and it seems like it never ends.

Someone, please tell me that I'll be bored one day. I look forward to that!

I'll be back. Hopefully sooner than 4 weeks from now. Thanks for hanging in...that is, if there's anyone still here!

xox

Travelling light

Griffin said to Steve and I the other day, after I fixed his plastic slinky for the eight hundredth time (after Steve had declared it unfix-able,) "Mommy's amazing. Mommy can do ANYTHING."

Wow. I'm glad you think that, buddy.

Most things I can do, if not well, then at least I can give it a shot. And I'm glad that's enough in the eyes of my 4 year old.

But I'm not a very good cook, I suck at keeping the laundry folded, and I can NOT. PACK. LIGHT.

But I HAVE to pack light. This year I HAVE to.

In 5 weeks we leave on an Epic Cross Country Journey. (So epic that it needs to be capitalized, but from here on in needs to be shortened to ECCJ. Or just Epic Journey.)

(5 weeks? ACK!)

We are traveling across Canada, camping our way from Toronto to Vancouver. We are taking a truck (not ours) with a trailer (also not ours,) loaded with gear for a 3 month cross country journey from Vancouver to Toronto, that journey that we won't be on. Some of our stuff can be on it, but we will be on a plane back to Toronto, with one bag each, and car seats, and a stroller. And maybe some of our camping gear...because we need it when we get back.

Oh, and there's the nearly 5 year old. And a year and a half year old too. (No dog. Phewf.)

I think this year, I best LEARN how to pack light. We're off in the next few days for a jaunt to Ottawa. Next weekend we're going camping...Steve will miss the packing and the setting up part of that...that'll just be me and the kids. After that then there is the family reunion/camping trip. And then the Epic Journey. And then another camping trip when we get back from the Epic Journey.

Holy eff.

So instead of packing light, which I should be doing right now, I'm blogging about packing light, because I'm really not sure how to get started with it. I LOVE being that girl, who when someone laments "oh, we should have brought the 'X'," leans over and pulls an 'X' out of the nearest Rubbermaid.

I suppose I best get over that.

Can you help? Are you a packer of light things? Do you have RULES? If so, I need to know what they ARE! And just how exactly you manage it with children in tow?

Grey hairs

I was sitting with my new friend Jen tonight, when she experienced a momentus first.

Under the glow of the 5 o'clock sun beating down in our faces, Jen discover her first grey hair.

I remember the moment when I discovered MY first great hair, about *cough* six years ago, around the same age that Jen is now. It's all gone to hell in a handbasket since that day of discovery, and I am now sporting more grey hairs than I would ever dare to count. Never mind daring, actually, I just don't have that kind of time, people.

I suppose I should consider myself lucky, actually. When my Dad was my age, he was sporting a full white frontal streak across his brow. Not just grey, white as white can be. And I think he'd have been sporting it for a few years by this age.

I'm surprisingly ok with the grey, I feel like I've earned each and every one of those little fuckers. However, they've been appearing at a more rapid pace these days, and I'm just not sure where to go with it all.

Here's the thing - I feel like I'd do a darn good job of rocking a full head of grey. It is, in fact, one of the reasons I've been letting my hair grow long these days, because I think there's something kind of sassy and sexy about a woman with a head full of long, grey flowing locks. But this half head of grey? These grey "highlights?" I just don't feel like they're all that attractive. I don't think there's much sassy and sexy about random wiry white hairs poking themselves this-a-way and that-a-way and every which way out of my head, announcing themselves to the world.

"Hey, look at me, sticking up all over the place, all wiry and unruly and not conforming with the other hairs on this head like...I'm GREY!!"

Yeah. So.

I know I'm not alone in this...I KNOW I'm not the only one checking out my multi-colored hairline, and glaring at my children while silently putting all the blame on them.

What I want to know is what the rest of y'all are doing about it!

Are you rocking it, or are you in the hair care aisle at Shoppers, pretending it never ever happened?

C'mon...you can tell...I can keep a secret!

;)

Technical difficulties

Yup, we haz them.

My computer has some sort of nasty disease. Luckily, our geek thinks he can fix it, but not without delivering him the whole box, for lord knows how long. The good thing is this will force me to figure out how to do everything I ever wanted to do on the iPad.

Including blogging, with photos.

If i could upload photos, maybe I'd show you some of my kid being THAT KID in the front row of the primary concert at school, making faces and goofing around and generally being an ass. Yup, THAT KID was mine tonight. Le sigh.

I'm going to bed now. Tomorrow is a new day. The computer will still be broken, but hopefully my kid will have slept off his assness, and with morning comes coffee, and coffee is good. And with afternoon? Comes husband, home from a 4 day jaunt to a beachside town on Lake Ontario. There will be some smooches, and someone cooking me dinner, and some "here, put these small things to bed while I take a bath, wouldja?" all of which i have missed.

Le large sigh.

Le large goodnight.

May Long Weekend: Check.

It's the end of a busy (long) weekend here, and the weekend turned out to be nothing like I expected.

Our Saturday plans got switched to Friday and then got canceled all together, which left Steve and I with six racks of ribs, and only us to eat them.

Oh, the hardships I endure.

Saturday came with an unexpected burst of energy to do a few much needed things, and the rest was spent relaxing. Like hardcore, naps on the porch in the hammock relaxing. We spent Saturday evening with the parents of one of Griffin's friends - the kids have spent a ton of time together, but we've never hung out and it was just delightful.

Sunday we toddled into the big city for a wedding (OK, there was no toddling, there was running around all hairy scary for three hours, trying to pack the seemingly ENDLESS amount of things that one needs to stay overnight in someone else's house with a 4 year old and a 16 month old in tow, plus spend the following day at an amusement park while Daddy works, PLUS fancy shoes and dresses and too many choices of undergarments...it really sucks that by the time kids are big enough to carry their own darn stuff that they hardly need anything anymore. Dang.)

But the wedding: the wedding was about 18 times more fun than I thought it would be. My family is ALWAYS in the mood for a good party, but this time everyone was particularly jovial, aided perhaps by the fact that no one had to drive anywhere at the end of the night, and both Steve and I and my brother and his wife were out! At night! Without the children! It turned into a pretty rocking party, there even might have been some shots at the end of the night...it's been a long time since I've ponied up to a bar with a row of shot glassed lined up in front of me...and it's probably best if there is equally as long until it happens again.

Today we headed to Ontario Place (where we've often been before) to hang out while Daddy worked. We parked ourselves inside a big tent to watch Daddy's big show, and while we enjoyed the show inside, our stroller "enjoyed" one of the heaviest downpours I've seen all season. Awesome. Despite a wet stroller and a rather traumatic rollercoaster experience, we had a lovely day.

When we arrived home, I decided to seize the proverbial bull by the horns, and did something I'd been mulling over for a bit. You see, last night while Steve and I were out witnessing a sacred union drinking, Corben was put to bed all by his lonesome in his playpen. He squawked once, and then fell asleep, not to be heard from again, until SEVEN FREAKING THIRTY this morning, more than half an hour after I had been up. So - bull, horns, push crib away from our bed, bye bye co-sleeper, hello Corbie's own bed.

He's asleep in there now, after a bit of a fit. There was screaming and head banging, and general baby obscenities, where he's just crying and babbling, but you know if you could understand what he was saying, it would have been enough to made a sailor blush.

If I thought for a moment that Corbie would never sleep in the bed with us again, I might take a minute and get a bit verklempt about saying goodbye to the co-sleeper, but I know there will be MANY more opportunities for little feet in my kidneys and little knees in my back. I mean really, do kid EVER really stop crawling into bed with their parents? I do love snuggling up with that little monkey at night, but I have no illusions that it's really over, so I'll save the verklempt for another day...I'm also certain that there will be lots of other opportunities for that. (Steve said last night "can you imagine us being at Griffin or Corben's wedding?" and I practically burst into tears in the middle of my sirloin.)

So now it's 10pm, on the last day of the first long weekend of the summer, and I would like to officially declare this weekend to be a resounding success. The boys were great, the weather was awesome, the drinks were plentiful, and the general company was delightful. I'm hopeful that this bodes well for an excellent summer to come. (Hopefully next long weekend I remember the camera...lame.)

Blogger's Block

I used to be able to write. Now I write draft after draft that sucks eighteen shades of suck.

But what I do have is cute kids. And a good camera.

So lets just stick to that for now, and pretend that I can still write, but I just don't have time. Yeah, lets go with that, shall we?(I also have a new picnic table...isn't it pritty? Happy Mother's day to me!)

Barf-o-rama

I don't know what is wrong with my small child, but he just wont. Stop. Barfing.

Do you remember that scene from Stand By Me, the one were Lardass barfs all over his pie eating competitors? It was like that around here tonight, except switching out the blueberry pie for mac and cheese. I have never been so thoroughly and completely barfed on as I was tonight.

This started on Wednesday night, and caused me to miss one of days of an already abbreviated work week - I abbreviate Fridays every week thanks to my new, "I'm a mother of two and don't have time for your 40 hours" schedule, and the holiday Monday this week made for a three day week. NOT GOOD ENOUGH, we decided, and took it down to two.

(You have no idea of the scope of the shitstorm that awaits me in the office on Monday morning.)

Corben barfed twice on Wednesday night, four times on Thursday, the last time almost exactly 24 hours after the first. And then yesterday? Nothing. Happy baby, eating whatever he likes. Until this morning, when breakfast was so thoughtfully returned to me. We spent the day snuggling. And then tonight, where an hour of bedtime snuggles and nursing resulted in the most epic vomit fest I've ever had the "privilege" to be a part of.

Luckily we were sitting in the big chair, and NOT on my bed.

This is all a long and overly descriptive way of saying I have no idea whats going on. But I'm starting to get a little worried, and for fear of spending another work day curled up in the big chair (lovely though it may be) we might be toddling off to the doc tomorrow. On a Sunday. That should be fun.

Wish us luck.

The February Factor

I have this theory, it's a new piece of math, kind of like Einsteins theory of relativity.

Except less epic...OR NOT.

I call it the February Factor.

Anything shitty that happens in February gets multiplied by the February Factor. The February factor is (Suck) to the power of 3.

Had a shitty day in February? It's (Shitty Day)(Suck³).

Feeling tired? It's even worse, because it's February and you're (Tired)(Suck³).

Oh, and every time you step on the scale? Each pound you'd normally gain, you get to gain (Pound)³ in February.

See where I'm going with this?

I'm not wrong, am I?

March dudes, it's right around the corner, I swear! Hold off on making any rash decisions for a few more days, wouldja?

March comes with the (Warm) factor...it's WAY more fun!

Dear Wednesday

You sucked. And then I got barfed on.

Please tell your friend Thursday that he better be nice to me, or I might cry.

The end.

Spring thaw

Ah, winter.

The land of boots and hats and mittens and snowpants and so on and so on.

Sometimes, you cram the diaper bag and the backpack so full in the morning, with snowpants and mittens and diapers and sippy cups and wipes and whatever else it takes baby to survive while they're away from you, that it's overflowing so much that the zipper won't even close.

And then you schlep wiggly baby out to the car, with his bulging bag on your shoulder, at 6:45 am, in the pitch dark.

And sometimes, while you're away, and the sun is coming up, the skies open again, and it snows, again.

And then, when you come home at night, after the sun has come and gone, it's dark again.

And then you fire up the snow plow, and plow the driveway in the dark, because there is just no other choice.

Repeat.

Until spring.

(So it's not really spring, but we've had what you might refer to as a "spring thaw" in the past few days.)

And then the sun starts to beat you to the punch in the morning, the snow starts to melt.

And then one morning as you're leaving the house, you remember the overflowing bags, and the schlepping in the dark, and the wiggly baby in your arms, and you remember a blue sippy cup that once was part of the family that you thought had gone to daycare, but daycare didn't know what you were talking about.

And suddenly, you think to yourself "so that's what that mysterious noise was when I was clearing the driveway."

And "so that's where that sippy cup went."So long, blue sippy cup. RIP. We hardly knew ya!

Happy New Year!

The New Year came in VERY low key for us, as we celebrated Christmas part three with my brother and my Mom on New Years Eve. It felt more like another Christmas rather than New Years Eve. Half of the kids were sick, my brother was sick, my Mom was sick, and I was kneeling down and praising the alter of the antibiotic, which in less than 24 hours took me from "the worst pain I've experienced since childbirth" to a semi-human again.

Lesson learned - I don't do ear infections well. Or maybe I do them a bit TOO well.

We've spent the new year so far pretty chill. We're in for a HUGE change here next week, as I'm heading back to work, so it feels like all of our energy and preparations are going into that. I'm cleaning. And looking for a cleaning lady to pass the torch onto. I'm organizing the pants out of everything. And counting down the days where it's cool to drink Baileys in my coffee on a weekday and wear my PJ's till noon.

Things may be a bit quiet around here until we settle into our new groove.

Wishing you all a happy, and healthy New Year!

Me, and the wind.

It's one of those wickedly blustery days here on The Roof. I know how this goes - the wind blows strong and hard all day long. The sound filters in through the weather stripping around the doors that needs to be replaced, and permeates the glass in the windows. It's low, constant rumble makes me feel like there is a freight train just over the horizon, chugging on, slowly yet relentlessly, all day long. It's ferocity means it's too cold to play outside, which is ok, because just the sound of it it enough to make me crank up the fireplace and turn on the kettle. Skip the coffee, it's a tea kind of morning.

At the same time that the sounds of the breeze whipping by makes me want to snuggle up under a warm quilt and read the day away, it also makes me feel unsettled and antsy. There will be no reading the day away with two smalls running around the house. The fact that I'm blogging at 8am is a minor miracle made possible only by a new iPad, and a baby who thought he was ready for the day at 5:30am, but has since changed his mind. But he'll wake again shortly, and be ready to go. And I'll be reluctant. To go, that is, just about anywhere with the wicked wind pounding away outside. It makes strapping children in the car seat difficult and chilling. It makes traveling to and from town messy and slick on the roads. It makes my list of errands that need to be done seem less important than they did last night, when all was still in the great outdoors.

And yet, the list will not go away on it's own...things that need to be done are some of the few things that the wind won't pick up and take with it on it's way by, making it disappear into the next township.

(My cast iron bistro set is one of the few too.)

But today, I think I might be brave. I think its time to conquer the wind, show the gusts who's boss on this here hill. The wind isn't going to go away, but neither are we, so we might as well find a way to get along. We don't need to be bestest buds, but we should at least be able to muster a wave across the fence in the morning.

Nod and smile, top of the morning to you. What are you up to today? Oh, just blowing and gusting around you say? Sounds delightful. Me, I'm going to bundle up the kids and head into town. Going to run a few errands. Buy some groceries, some weather stripping, some more tea. Maybe even a windmill.

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.

The Good

Oh, there is so much good!

-My present, that I eluded to the other day, is indeed a new camera. It's a Cannon Rebel t2i, and I'm in love, mostly because it takes gems like this one:
(Having an exceptionally cute subject does not hurt!)

We're still in the "getting to know you" phase, but I'm over the moon happy with it.

-Steve is off work for a whole week. A WHOLE week. This is good.

-Corben took his first steps on Friday! He'll still drop to the ground to crawl for most things, but he's getting more confident in his stance and balance...it's so much fun to watch!

-Christmas? Is going to be wickedly awesomely good this year!

-Steve and I are getting away, for 24 whole hours this week to celebrate our 5th anniversary. Can you even imagine the quiet? I hardly can right now.

-And tomorrow? We are going here. Be very jealous.

The Bad

-The pink eye. The pink eye is the bad. First Griffin, then Corben, then Steve all went down with it last week. Except Steve still has it...4 days later. I finally sent him to emerg this morning, when I decided that the Polysporin drops just weren't doing the trick any more. (They worked great on the kids, btw, but Big Daddy needs something a bit stronger!) He came home with meds for Pink eye, and for a double ear infection that he was unknowingly sporting. Awesome.

-Remember those fine motor skills I posted about the other day? Apparently they are even more fine than I thought. Last night, it was very quiet all of a sudden, too quiet, and I peeked around the corner from where I was sitting and found Corben in a puddle of boozer! He had opened the cabinet, taken out the bottle, and here's the amazing part - he TWISTED OFF THE CAP, and poured Grand Marnier all over himself and the floor...all without making a sound. Trouble. This kid is trouble!

The Ugly

I washed my iPhone. That is all.

Proof that this is my son.

I don't really need proof, per say, since I was, like, there when he was born, but it's nice to see some of my traits appear in my kids.

Like this one, for example...What can I say, the kid loves post-it notes!

Way to make your Mama proud, little buddy!

The name of my problem

So I've been having a few issues lately. I've been having "dizzy spells," that aren't really dizzy spells, but it was the best words that I could come up with to explain them. Basically, I'm walking around 80% of the time feeling like I'm drunk. Which is great for Friday nights, but not so great for stuff like driving. Or thinking. Or Parent-Teacher interviews. Stuff like that.

So I finally made it to the doctor this week, and now my drunken stupor has a name.

Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo.

(Gesundheit.)

To save you from reading the diatribe that is that website, I'll give to you in short: there's stuff rolling around in my inner ear, disturbing all the little inner ear hairs that tell the brain whether I'm standing up, laying down, moving forward, rolling over, and so on. I move my head to the right, send the "stuff" bouncing all over my ears, which tells my brain that I'm actually spinning around in circles, thus the "dizzy." But I'm not ACTUALLY dizzy. Just my brain thinks I'm spinning around in circles, but my body knows it's standing still.

It's a total mindf*ck, people.

The treatment is a simple maneuver that involves relocating the "stuff" by laying down and hanging upside down, and rolling over, and leaving your head hanging, and yadayadayada. Simple for most people. Except the hanging upside down over a bed part is less fun if your mindf*ck dizzy has also landed you with a cracked rib.

Good times.

The next part of the treatment involves keeping your head pretty much upright for AT LEAST 24 hours.

No bending over, no quick head movements, and no lying down.

Last night I slept in the Lazy Boy. It was far from awesome.

The doc recommended one night of this. The web page I read recommended two. EASY FOR IT TO SAY! Tonight, I'll be sleeping in my bed, come hell or eardrum debris. I'll repeat the shenanigans if necessary, but not sleeping in my bed for two nights in a row?

Nuh-uh.

I'm going to be dizzy with sleep deprivation if I spend another night in that chair, and that is less useful to me than any ricocheting ear debris.

So that's my story. I'm glad that my drunkenness has a name, and I'm so glad it's not a nasty name like "tumor" or something. (It's a terrible thing, but stuff like that seems to be all around me these days, and headaches and dizzy spells can lead a person to have nasty thoughts about the cause.) And I'm glad the treatment is simple and painless. And for all the times I've cursed the ugliness that is the monstrosity of a Lazy Boy that lives in our living room, I sure was glad to have it last night.

But now I sleep. In my own bed...Baileys induced, and horizontal. G'night!

(Stay tuned for tomorrow...we're going to open a huge can of Christmas whoop-ass here, and whip this place into Christmas shape! And there will be pictures! Fancy pictures!)

Shiny

I saved up all the money from my holiday soap sales...it was an awesome amount, more than I could have ever hoped for! (Thank you, soap buyers!) I added a few extra dollars that I've been saving since LAST CHRISTMAS. (The self control was phenomenal!)

And then today, I bought myself something shiny.

But I can't show you just yet, because it's shiny new battery is still charging.

But it's OH so sexy! And shiny!

Any guesses?