I Totally Get It

For the last seventeen days, my husband has dropped off of the planet. (See my previous post on Man-i-tis) I have 3 busy girls who I am running to dance and gymnastics and every where else under the sun. On top of all of that, we are trying to sell our house. Why? Heck, if I know! We are just seeing what will happen.

Well, you know what is happening....we are about to sell it! We have a couple who is very interested. They have seen it once and have informed us that after they come for the second viewing today, they will be making an offer! Oh My Goodness! Not quite sure if we are ready for this....

But that is neither here nor there. The point is that they are coming to see the house today, and yesterday I realized that our yard looked more like a field of overgrown weeds than the well sculptured oasis that sells houses. With my husband down and out, there was only one thing to do....I had to mow the grass.

Now I realize that some of you are saying, "What's the big deal?" Well if you knew my Bella Swan Clumsy self, you would understand. I have had 11 wrecks in my life. I injure a new part of my body everyday sometimes more than once a day, and I frequently mess things up due to my lack of patience and my need to do things the quickest way possible (which is not always the most correct way).

So I grab a water bottle, a hat, sunglasses, and my iPod and head out to the shop to crank up the lawnmower. Ten minutes later and I am still sitting there. My husband has to drag his sick tail out there and help me jump the piece of @#$* lawnmower off because it won't crank for like the 20th time in a 6 month period.

Finally, we get it going and I take off on my mowing adventure. Adventure should not be the word I should use to describe this task: peaceful would be much better to describe it. First of all, I have my favorite tunes blasting and am able to sing at the top of my lungs. Secondly, I get to ride around on this cool little toy (who doesn't love this!). Finally, it is difficult for wee munchkins to bother you on the lawnmower. In fact, for 2 hours no one bothered me!

2 solid hours of nothing but time to myself? I totally get it now! I totally get why men like to mow the grass. I like it too! In fact, I love it. Watch out, Brian! You might just have lost you job!!

Man-i-tis

Man-i-tis-(noun) the state in which a man behaves extremely sickly almost to the point of death but is in fact only inflicted with a mild case of something, like the common cold or stomach virus or even a headache. 

Man-i-tis is something that all women with significant others (that are men) are quite familiar with. It happens every time our big, strong men get sick. They are suddenly on death's doorstep and require much babying, love, and exemption from all household chores/parenting activities. It doesn't matter whether or not we (the women) have just been inflicted with the same sickness during which we continue on with our lives as normally while "sucking it up" because we don't have time to succumb to the bed like we desire, they will be soooooo sick. 

I know that you (women) know exactly to what I am referring and are probably standing whilst applauding in agreement. However, I am quite certain that upon reading this every man I know is shaking his fist at me in disgruntlement for drawing attention to this ploy of sickness. But man-i-tis is a true infliction, one that most every woman in America has experienced at some point in time.

My man has it so bad that he could be standing next to a woman that feels nauseated, and he will suddenly start feeling queasy. It won't matter that the woman was in fact pregnant and was nauseated because she smelled something that offended her pregnant self. He will still come down with the stomach virus and be down for the count for at least 24 hours.

So you can imagine what I thought when 2 weeks ago my husband started complaining of being achy all over after hearing about several children at school who had tested positive for the flu. He felt well enough to go play golf and convinced me even more that he was only infected with man-i-tis. When he got home from the course, however, he went straight to bed.

By Monday, I realize is probably a little more than man-i-tis. I make him go to the doctor where he tests positive for the flu. The FOR REAL FLU...in May...seriously?!?! Wednesday it is even worse when it should be getting better. He heads back to the doctor for a steroid shot and x-rays. X-rays which reveal his flu has now turned into pneumonia! OMG!

Over the weekend, he just gets worse and by Tuesday he has lost over 10 pounds (10 pounds which he didn't need to lose), is not getting enough oxygen, and is admitted to the hospital. His left lung is full of junk, and he is so weak he can barely walk.

I feel like a huge jerk!! My big, strong man is sick, really, really sick! He undergoes antibiotics, steroids, and breathing treatments 24/7. I split my time between my girls at home and being with him at the hospital. Thank goodness for help from my family or I truly might have gone off the deep end.

Finally, on Friday, he was released. He is still sick and weak, but at least he is home and slowly recovering. It will take a while for him to get back his strength, and his lung may always cause him to be a little short of breath. It is definitely not going to be the fun, productive summer that we thought it would be.

I did learn one thing: Man-i-tis is a pain to deal with but it is 10,000 times better than seeing your big, strong man beat down with pneumonia. As much as I complain about it, I will take man-i-tis any day!

Thank Goodness for Google

A couple of months ago, we came across a major milestone in my seven year old's life. She decided that she was ready to get her ears pierced. I am one of those people who think that piercing should be one of those special "coming of age" things in a child's life, so I waited until she asked about getting her ears pierced.

"What had happened though" was this...
She is part of a competition dance company, and  not only do they have a certain kind of costume, tights, shoes, and makeup to wear, but they also have a certain king of earrings. For the last year, she has worn clipons and has complained the whole time. Almost to the point of causing me to go into complete insanity! After an all day competition and all day complaining, we decided it was time.


 So with much trepidation we enter a Claire's store somewhere in Jacksonville, FL. She was so brave and did not cry at all. The same cannot be said for her mother, who was not at all ready for the cost of getting one's ears pierced to be close to $60!

She has been so responsible about cleaning her ears. Much more responsible than I ever was. I had to get my ears pieced 3 times because they always got infected and I would just let them grow up.

I thought that we were out of the woods when we reached the 6 week period. We bought a set of 4 sterling silver earrings, and my extremely organized daughter even set up a "rotation schedule" for wearing her earrings. However, the smooth sailing sunk last weekend.

She woke up Monday morning and told me that her earring had fallen out during the night. Upon closer inspection,  I shockingly found out that it was in fact still in but had been pushed back into the hole! Needless to say, a traumatic event incurred with much screaming and crying and pain and holding down.

As with everything, I immediately Googled to find out what to do. We tried everything but the only thing that truly worked was soaking her ear in a solution of 8 oz of warm water and 1 tablespoon of Sea Salt. It is supposed to draw out the infection, and with only one 5 minute soaking, her ear was amazingly better.

We repeated this everyday, twice a day for 3 days. We also cleaned her ear and earrings with Hydrogen Peroxide 3 times a day, and slathered it with Neosporin at night when we left the earrings out and then again before putting the earring back in each morning.

Five days out and it is oh so much better. Thank goodness for Google!