Ugggg

I am at home right now while the rest of the family is off to Great Grandma Eve's Birthday party. Last night, the stomach flu that has whipped through the gym landed in my gut. On four separate occasions, I had the joy of violently vomiting into my disgusting toilet. It certainly put a perspective as to how dirty my bathroom was. I believe looking, really looking at my toilet bowl probably helped expedite the process of hurling. Every time I put something on my stomach, I regretted it later. Sometimes your favorite foods can become your enemy. After each episode, my body hurt SO BAD. Every bone, tendon, muscle, and all of my skin hurts. My freakin' cheek bones hurt! So, Farrah and her Dad left to go to the birthday party while I have chosen to hang back so not to be the ass hole that gets everyone sick. I intend to stop typing and pull myself upstairs into my bed and get some much needed rest. I honestly wouldn't mind if the flu moved from my stomach down to my intestines. It would give one end of my body a bit of a break.

No Immunity

I just puked my brains out. Thanks, Farrah.

Puke

Farrah now has a touch of the stomach flu. I went to wake her up this morning to find her in a pile of barf. She stood up, reached for me and started to cry. It was heartbreaking and smelly all at the same time. There is, indeed, a difference between spit up and barf, fo' sho'. I picked her up and bathed her while her Dad put her bedding in the wash. Scrubbing the barf out of her hair was quite the task. Not only was I having to pick out pieces of last night's dinner, I had to massage the shampoo in her hair until I could get the smell out, only that never happened. Her hair was super stinky. Her spirits were up and she was her usual self. I figured she must have eaten something that didn't agree with her. Wrong assumption. She spent time with me at work and was just tired and not hungry. I decided to take her home and pick up some lunch on the way. When we were literally one block from my house when she started to cry. A couple seconds later, "AGGHHHH"! She barfed all over herself while she shed some tears. It was so sad to watch her this way. My car instantly filled up with vomit stench. Mike met me at home and helped clean things up. What a trooper! She was all cleaned up and herself again. I pumped her full of Pedialite and am getting ready to serve her some chicken broth. She doesn't have much of an appetite, but I don't blame her. So, there it is. Farrah has had two stinky days in a row. Don't worry I called the doctor and she'll be just fine.

Turd

I was warned that it could happen. I have been told horror stories time and time again. I don't think they truly prepared me for the event that I was presented with today. Lately, I have been getting up early to get ready for the day and if I'm lucky, Farrah is still asleep when I put that final coat of mascara on. However, there are the days when she is awake with me and decides to hang out in the bathroom with me. So, to help keep her occupied while I put on my make up and do my hair, I let her have some fun in the bath tub. Well, today I was doing my thing and noticed her just standing there. My rule is that she needs to be sitting in the tub. I told her twice to sit and she wouldn't do it and she just stared at me and smiled. So, I picked her up and made her sit in her bubble bath. When I did this, she started to whine. She picked up one of her toys in the bath water to show to me. At least I thought it was a toy. The water was so bubbly I didn't notice what it was until it surfaced. I squealed, "PUT THAT DOWN!!!" which made her start to cry. Now I knew why she was so upset. When I made her sit down in the tub, I was actually making her sit down in what she was trying to avoid in the first place. Her shit. My daughter crapped in the bath. My daughter does not like to be dirty. And unfortunately, my daughter doesn't give many warning signs when she's gotta go. She picked up a giant "Farrah turd" to show me as her way of saying, "Look Mom, the reason I was standing up and ignoring your requests is because you decided to remove my diaper and place me in here approximately 5 minutes too soon. So, here is what happens when I don't have a way to communicate with you that I was prairie dogging. Poop is what happens." I placed her on her towel while I drained the crappy tub. However, while I was trying to take care of that, she wasn't quite done. She's so freakin' quiet!!! I cleaned her up...again. I scoured the tub and started a new bath. She was so tired of bath time by the time she was a clean, she whined and whined until I put her down for her nap. It must have been horribly exhausting for her; pooping and all.

911 Junkie

The last couple of days, I've called the authorities twice. The first time was because a Semi-Truck driver was driving very aggressively on the freeway, making me feel incredibly unsafe. He was tailgating people and leaving only enough room about the size of a bicycle between him and the other car. Should he have to have stopped, he would've driven over the top of the car. Today, I had to call because as I was getting onto the freeway, there was a seagull on the side of the road just sitting there, clearly with a broken leg or wing. It was distracting in so many ways. First, it was just sad because it looked helpless. Second, it seemed like it was just waiting to be hit. And third, it had friends flying above it waiting for something to happen so they could swoop down and eat him. Just a little disturbing. In any case, there I was dialing away. At least I don't call them on Thanksgiving looking for a good stuffing recipe.

Language Arts

Last night I watched a couple Harry Potter movies and made a decision as it pertains to my daughter. British children have the best accents. Therefore, I will be raising my daughter to have a British accent. As I work on this with her, please don't give her a hard time as she might feel weird for not sounding like everyone else, but she'll appreciate it as she gets older. I can just picture her in school when kids come up to her intrigued about where she comes from, but she'll just tell them she's from Arlington, WA. Her first words will be: Mum (for Mommy), Ded (for Daddy), Ello (for Hello or Hi). British Farrah will be sooooo cute.

Tally Ho!

Funk

I am in a funk of a mood. I believe my hormones are toying with me which, ultimately, ends up making the rest of the world suffer. I called my doctor on Monday about my "pills" and mentioned how it can sometimes make me a bit moody (kinda funny, huh?) and I tend to get horrible raging migraines. Well, it has also made my skin look better than it ever has...ever. Because of that, my doctor decided changing my pills was not an option as I have changed so many times, I have probably tried them all at least twice in my life. I have to toughen up when I get my headaches and just keep telling Mike "nothing is wrong" when he asks. I guess if I just stare in the mirror and admire my new skin, the pain pulsating through my head and eyes and my need to want to kick mud in the faces of those I love should dissipate. Mind you, I am not knocking my doctor for suggesting we leave well enough alone, because she has worked with me and my pill situation for 10 years. Enough is enough.

On a side note, I'd like send a shout out to my husband and daughter who always know when I'm not myself and know to give me hugs and kisses at the right time. However, the squeezing of my boob isn't going to get the effect my husband is looking for when I'm in one of these moods. He usually gets the rolling of my eyes or some name calling like, "raper." My boobies should be considered off limits whenever he sees the scowl on my face.

Barf

I have a migraine right now. It usually likes to stop by once a month and say a friendly hello with a feeling of a 10 inch nail stabbing me in my right eye. Light makes me want to throw up, sound makes me want to throw up, and the sour cream and onion potato chips Mike is eating in bed right now are making me want to throw up. Thank you for putting them aside, honey.

Also, I'm watching The Daily Show and they are giving a little bit of a recap of the Caucus elections. Umm...it, too, is making me want to barf a little. Politics are so lame sometimes. I have a favorite, and it seems that all the rest of the politicians love him so much that they are stealing his words. When he says it, I feel alive, when they say it, I want to stick my head in the toilet and wait to see the sequel of what I ate earlier. Also, sorry if some of you love him out there, but Guiliani drops 9-11 every chance he gets, and that too, makes me choke on bile. I know it is shitty to talk politics, but there it is.

Gonna get off the computer now, so the brightness of the screen will stop hurting me.

Peace out, bitches.