Wednesday, May 11, 2011


My Grandfather is one of 11 sons. He is the oldest. He has survived the loss of 7 others... It will be a long summer. No matter who he loses, he loses hard. Our last big loss was my Grandmother a month before the Princess was born. It's been hard. So very very hard. We joke and we talk and we go through the motions, but it is always bittersweet. He lost his youngest brother, his baby brother... the last brother to remain on the mountain. It is hard for all of us, for all the brothers I'm sure... But I know from being here with him, that this is going to shake his foundation. I want so bad to believe he can keep his feet firmly planted one in front of the other, but logic outweighs hope. I know the best thing I can be for him is here, constant and steady. I hurt so badly for my cousins. The youngest cousin being not much older than myself. We grew up together, I spent summers with her... She was the closest thing I had to a sister the first 6 years of my life. I hurt for her so bad it shakes me to my core. I cannot and do not want to imagine her loss. This man was a Father to three, Grandfather to 9, stand in Grandfather to many, and someone his community looked up to and aspired to be. Saying he will be greatly missed is an understatement.

Tomorrow is Stinky's "pre-k" graduation from 3-K to 4-K. Tomorrow we find out just how his first year went. We never got any sort of assessment throughout the year, no notes from the Teachers or comments from other parents so I'm assuming they found him to be as great a kid as we know him to be. I will probably cry considering everything else that we've endured these past 2 weeks, and I will probably be pissy afterwards because of it (I'm not a crier and don't like to be publicly emotional... I'm a walk it off and suck it up kind of girl, I know you're all falling over laughing. You can pull yourselves together anytime now.) I have been on the fence about the Princess going in early, even though my gut ALWAYS answers when questioned about it that I'm waiting till she can start with HER class. Her birthday lands middle of the school year so it's kind of awkward for her. In the state of Georgia however, it is very black and white that students must be 5 the DAY Kindergarten begins... meaning she would be in Preschool for almost 3 years by the time she's "legal" to start public school. Sounds pretty well laid out, right? It's just that I hear, more often than not, that she is beyond many 3 year olds that start out on time. That if we don't go ahead and put her in, we should seriously consider a Montessori school or other private Pre-K, which is the only way we can slide past the "5 years by the first day" rule. The other logical thought that nips the "baby genius" thoughts in the bud? Money. Have you SEEN the prices for Montessori's and private Pre-K's??? What we got back on our tax returns would have been the DOWN PAYMENT for that nonsense. Looks like the Princess and I will be studying on our own, THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

I hinted that we've been suffering through some pretty rough patches these past 2 weeks... kind of the understatement of the century. It started off with a nasty cough Stinky brought home two weekends ago. We chalked it up to allergies as brush burning is big around here and, lo and behold, the ban began May 1st. There were a LOT of people burning brush and rubbish in their backyards the weekend prior. While I have an asthma attack maybe once a year when the ban lifts in the fall, I was puffing on my inhaler the entire way home from my parties that weekend. So again, we weren't TOO surprised when the boy was coughing as well. And then he got a fever. So YAY, SINUS INFECTION! NOT! The Husband also ended up comatose for a few days and then I began feeling like the walking dead this past weekend. The Princess, who OF COURSE is getting all 4 of her 2 year molars YAAAAAAY!!!!, started hacking and sneezing a few days ago. We're all ready to jump off a bridge at this point. God help us that the little diva is teething, sick, and PISSED that sick or not, she's not allowed to join her Brother during "Party Week" at school. So we let her have full reign of the Roku. I'm pretty sure she's been watching Grey's Anatomy and some other shows as when I went to pick up on the episode I left off on last night it seemed like I was missing a huge chunk of information. So anyways, back to us sickies. I happened to notice that everything has started to taste nasty which is both good and bad, because "OH.EM.GEE I CAN TASTE FOOD AGAIN! MY COFFEE ISN'T HIGH VOLTAGE WATER ANYMORE!" but yet... hello? NASTY. It's a taste I can't describe. I go and check out my tonsils while bathing the Princess today and, yup! Ginormous, swollen, scabby, glandy goodness. Anytime I get a sinus infection/cold/flu/WHATEVER, my tonsils give up and quit. The best part? None of my doctor's have ever had an answer. The most logical answer I've been given is that my tonsils are "dead." I no longer feel pain in them until it gets to the point most people would be asking for a sedative and by the time they become a nuisance, they're at the healing point. Right now? Healing point. High five for scabby tonsils! TMI? Nobody told you to keep reading, you chose to read this far in on your own... ignore the man with a gun to your head. IT'S ALL IN YOUR IMAGINATION.

We've also had an ongoing poop crisis in this house. See? You can stop reading AT ANY TIME. It's called free will, people, USE IT! Monday morning, BRIGHT AND EARLY, Stinky wakes me up as usual by smacking the baby monitor base and screaming at me. He went silent for a bit, but I figured it was just because he left his bathroom and went back into his room. Yes, as a matter of fact I *do* lock my Son's bedroom door at bedtime. In an emergency he can exit by going through the bathroom to the Princess's room, but he knows that it's only safe to do that in an emergency. Would you shoot a hibernating bear with a paint ball gun? No? Why not? I HEAR THEY LOVE IT. He knows his life depends on not waking his Sister. ANYWAYS... BACK TO THE STORY. So I shove my glasses on and haul up the stairs to find a poop trail coming off his toilet and OH.EM.GEE.THE.HORROR. Let's just say I made him help me clean it up and then he IMMEDIATELY took a bath, all while the Princess is standing in the doorway from her room shooting daggers from her eyes at him and me. Also, just as a little background? I went to bed at, no joke, 5:59 a.m. that morning and I opened my eyes to see that it was 7:59 a.m. when Stinky first started summoning me. 2 hours of sleep, people. Two very very short hours. Once we get downstairs, I go to make the Husband coffee and when I turn around? POOP. AGAIN. Did I sign up for this? Was this on the release forms at the hospital post-partum? I would have checked a DIFFERENT box if I knew that post potty training I would STILL be removing fecal matter from every inch of every surface of the house. This time? We weren't dealing with cleaning up linoleum. Try fantastically awesome, VELCRO-LIKE, indoor/outdoor carpeting. You can't just wipe it up. Welcome to bath #2 before coffee #1 was even finished. I walk back into the kitchen to finish what I started with the coffee and BAM, I slip on cat vomit. It's been one hell of a week. Can I get a redo?

So now I'm trying to breathe without my tonsils knocking together and HOPING that we can all remain in one non-snotty piece tomorrow. Or at least all be in good enough spirits to make it through Stinky's little ceremony. Maybe if we're well enough we'll get lunch afterwards... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. And that's all I've got for you tonight, folks! Time for Tylenol Allergy PM and some breath mints because anything's better than my current state.

p.s. and YES Moms... I will be taking lots and lots of pics.

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