The jury is out

Our family is in the throes of a major crisis right now.
The stomach flu.
Payton had it first. Poor girl. She was absolutely miserable. And then I had it, and I was absolutely miserable. And now Geoff has it. And we're all absolutely miserable. The way he tolerates being sick is making me sick right now. God. When I had my stomach flu I was awake practically all night long from either vomiting or nursing the baby. When babe woke up at 7, I tried to hand him over to Geoff so I could sleep for a little bit. But no can doozle. He had to get ready for work. Apparently that is a process that takes over an hour and requires total concentration. I mean, never mind the fact that I can and I do get ready every day in ten minutes flat, and true, I don't look that great most of the time- but still. Neither does he.

Okay, that was just plain mean. But I'm in a nasty mood. I mean, he stumbles out of bed this morning at quarter to ten, rubbing his eyes, moaning and groaning, listing off every symptom that he has, even though, HELLO, I had the same damn thing yesterday!! And I didn't get the luxury of sleeping in. I was up and at it at seven am, relying heavily on Gravol, soda crackers and Coke to get me through the day. I had to take Payton to dance lessons, which I didn't really want to, but I thought 'it won't be so bad once I get there' But once again, no can doozle. What I hadn't counted on was the enthusiastic proclamation of the bouncy dance instructor "PARENT PARTICIPATION DAY!!" and so there I was jumping and marching and pirouetting whilst carrying baby Alex on my left hip, sweating heavily from the flu- although, let's be honest, I probably would have been sweating regardless. Anyways, my point is , that as parents, we don't get sick days. At least, us woman parents don't.

Not to even mention the fact that when I woke up this morning the house was a balmy 26 degrees.
 If I had cranked the heat up like that- do you want to know what would have happened to me??

No, you probably don't. Because it's bad.

But apparently, he's the only one that can handle the thermostat. Me, being just a silly woman, can't understand big works like "thermometer" or "temperature". Anyways, I turned the heat down to twenty. And then down to nineteen, just to spite him. Although, I don't think he's really noticed yet. Me again with my passive agressive attacks that just don't work out. I just end up being cold.


The good news is that I won ten air miles at Safeway the other day. Yes, that is what constitutes good news in our house. Pitiful, really. So I figure that, at this rate, in the next five to ten years or so I may get the chance to do some travelling. And yes. I did say Safeway. As in, not Superstore. I am done with Superstore. Every time I go there I have to wait in line for like half an hour. I figure, it's not worth it to save a few dollars. Because, really, time is money, too. Or so they say. Although, I have actually never been paid for my time, but... that's not the point. The point is, it's annoying.



So... getting back to the travelling thing... I am going to Calgary tomorrow to visit my dear friend Nadine and bringing Payton and Alex with me. I think it will be fun. Payton's first flight so I'm excited for her. It will be nice to spend some time with Nadine. We are planning on going to the Zoo, maybe doing some shopping, should be fun, except for the whole kid thing. Kidding. Love kids. But really, I do hope that they sleep at some point. It will be nice to kick back with Nadine, have a little one on one girl talk- you know, talk about our flow, tampons, that kind of thing. I don't really get that with Geoff. He doesn't like talking about my flow for reasons I don't completely understand. And he could stand to talk about it more. There's a lot that he doesn't know. Like the time that Payton stuck pads all over the bathroom wall, and Geoff said "Randine- Payton stuck tampons all over the wall" and I was like "well, that's interesting, because tampons don't really stick, Geoff." Men. Like the time he said that the liquid fabric softener I've been buying doesn't work. I was like "are you sure you're using it properly, because it seems to work fine for me?" and he was like, all indignant like "Yah. Of course I'm using it properly. What do you take me for?" And I was like "You're pouring it into the little chamber in the agitator that says "Liquid Fabric Softener"?" And he was like "Agi- what?" And I was like "my point exactly."


Turns out he was just dumping it on top of the clothes before he turned the washer on. And then he wonders why it doesn't work.

Anyways, back to my travelling. I want to get a gift for my friends kids, and I always over think these things. I was thinking of getting a Barbie or something like that for the little girl, and a truck or something for the boy. But then I could picture the conversation she would subsequently have with her husband "Honestly, Mark. She should have just got Marisa and ironing board an apron and Jared a big old fishing pole. She could really stand to take some of those gender sensitivity training classes we took at the community college." And I mean, she's totally not like that. My friend Nadine is, God bless her, one of the sweetest people I know, a close second to my dear SIL Lorrie. So now I am thinking maybe books? Those are pretty gender neutral, right? Well, unless I get a book on Sewing Applique for the girl and a Gun and Rifle Book for the boy, which I wouldn't, believe me, I wouldn't. I'm planning on steering clear of those. Believe me you, I don't need a class on gender sensitivity training at the community college to know to avoid those. God. That word 'sensitivity' is such a bitch to type. I type it wrong every time and have to go back and fix it. I just had to do it again. Argh. Anyways, ya, books, books are good, right? But you know what? They'll probably throw their books on the ground and then go off to play with their REAL toys. I'm always projecting my love of books onto other people. "You should read this book or that!" followed by thrusting said book into their arms. Buying their kids books for Christmas and their probably like "ENOUGH with the books already!! If we wanted a damn book we would go to the library!!" But oh well. If books aren't good enough for those kids, then, well, that's too darned bad. They can exchange them. I'll save the receipts.

There. I took a stand.

And speaking of books: the bad news. Another rejection letter. That's two of the four query letters I sent out in January. The other two I've practically given up on. I mean, if they were so intersted in my book you would think that they wouldn't take four months to get back to me, unless they're REALLY slow typers, which you would think, being in the book business, they probably wouldn't be, would they??. But honestly. Is my writing so shabby that they can't even dignify me with a response? A paragraph? A sentence? A rubber stamp on my original letter that says "REJECTED". I would take that right now. I really would. This business. It just sucks.

And speaking of sucking, I need to get back to my real life and tend to my ailing husband, who I can hear from down here, is snoring away up there so God only knows what my kids are doing.
Oh, thank God, he's finally resting. The poor soul. Pray for him.
Pray for ME.
TTFN.