Nothing at All

There's nothing fun about smelling something funky at final bedcheck, turning on the light, and realizing the baby has been visited by the Midnight Barf Fairy.

There's nothing pleasant about shampooing yuck out of your son's hair as he shivers and cries in a tub of chunky vomit soup; because even though the water is warm, a few minutes ago he was sleeping and now he's naked and wet.

And there's nothing worse than soothing a finally clean child, who rests his head on your shoulder and heaves an exhausted sigh; because while you're pleased to be providing a bit of comfort, all you can think is "Damn does this baby need a breath mint."

Took a Day Longer Than I Predicted

(Caution: Grossness Ahead. High Ew Factor. Do not read if you are eating or have just finished a meal - unless you're too full and can't find the ipecac.)

This morning Lula woke up sick. It seems to be the same "I Feel Fine Except for the Vomiting" virus Lumpyhead had on Tuesday morning.

She had those awful empty-stomach pukes -- you may know them from such hits as Horrible Hangover and Horrible Hangover II -- that come with full-body convulsions and orangey-colored bile and mucous product. Then she ate breakfast and erupted spectacularly.

Lumpyhead threw up only once, rallied to eat another breakfast, and kept it down. We assumed Lula would follow a similar path and must have said "surely that is the last one" at least seven times.

She projectiled her snack while sleeping on the sofa. She expelled a chocolate milkshake onto Bump's chest. She had four sips of water and blew chunks into a bucket.

We postponed Thanksgiving. We just didn't feel right about feasting in front of a hungry child who couldn't eat anything; and honestly, neither Bump nor I had very enthusiastic appetites after cleaning up and catching (but mostly missing) puke all day.

(Seriously, people. I know I served it to her, so it was totally my fault, but no one - no matter how grave the offense - should ever be subjected to cheddar cheese and Chicken in a Biskit crackers on the return. Ever.)

Today I am very thankful for my washing machine.

When I Told Bump About It, He Immediately Went to Locate the Fire Extinguisher for My Future Baking Needs

In what was perhaps a questionable decision, last night Bump allowed me to go to the grocery store to complete the Thanksgiving shopping. (One time Bump sent me to the store for bok choy and I came back with napa cabbage. Evidently those two things are not interchangeable.) (Ditto on snow peas and frozen sugar snap peas, apparently.) (I suck.)

It was late and the grocery store was deserted yet bustling. There weren't many customers, but the employees were scuttling around like ants. The produce section was cordoned off for mopping or something, which meant that every time I got to the end of the aisle at the front of the store I had to turn around and go back the way I came. Efficiency! Thy name is not Lumpyhead's Mom. (I guess my name is technically not Lumpyhead's Mom either, but . . . eh, nevermind.)

I decided that pre-made pie crust was worth $1.50, but store-made cornbread was not worth $3. I bought the mix and planned to bake cornbread with the kids' help this morning.

Lula helped with the mixing. When it was time to pop it in the oven, I remembered that I wanted to move the oven thermometer to the center of the oven. Our oven temp is a little erratic, and I worried that the thermometer was too close to the heating element to register the correct temperature.

I reached in to the preheated oven - with a towel, because I'm an idiot, but I'm not that much of an idiot - grabbed the thermometer and POOF! accidentally touched the heating element with the towel.

That sucker went up like a marshmallow in a campfire.

I am awesome.

Have a great holiday, and here's hoping your spouse is more helpful in the kitchen than my husband's.

Happy Thanksgiving - I've Got a 25-lb Turkey

My office is closed tomorrow, so my holiday begins in a few hours. Five-day weekend! Hooray!

Nathan Jr went to the pediatrician this morning and got four shots, including seasonal flu and chicken pox. Lumpyhead woke up this morning complaining that his tummy hurt, and promptly ejected the entirety of his just-eaten breakfast onto the kitchen table.

So, tomorrow morning I will be dealing with a freshly inoculated baby, a maybe-recovered four-year-old, and -- if things work out the way I expect -- a two-year-old who's coming down with a stomach bug of her own.

Who wants to bet that around 9:30 tomorrow morning, I'll be dying to go to work?

Are Veterinarians from SE Asia Called Vietnam Vets, Too?

Apparently one of Lumpyhead's preschool classmates wants to be a vet, so everyone was invited to bring a stuffed animal to school today. I guess she is going to give them all exams or something. Lumpyhead chose this:
Bump: Is that a crocodile or an alligator?
Lumpyhead: It's a crocodile. His name is Mr. Alligator.
Bump: I bet that gets confusing.

Also? Holy cow does my son need a haircut. Maybe one of his classmates wants to be a barber.

All Look Same

So help me God, I cannot tell the Voltaggio brothers apart on Top Chef.

I'm usually pretty good at names and faces, but these two are a complete mystery to me. I've been watching all season, and constantly confuse the two.

Maybe it's a sibling thing. When I was growing up, my brother had a friend named Faron who I couldn't distinguish from his little brother Vincent. One was blond, the other wasn't. (But which ONE was blond? I DON'T KNOW!)

Have you ever mistaken someone for somebody else? Please tell me about it so I don't feel like such a moron.

A sibling mix-up would make me feel a lot better, but you won't be doing me any favors if your story involves identical twins.

That Handwriting Thing I Was Telling You About

Hey, remember when I told you that Beth did this cool handwriting thing? She even did a follow-up post and I'm so slow I didn't even get this done in time for that.

I created a submission for her right away, then forgot to scan it, then left it at home and my computer is still busted so [shrug] you know.

I finally got my head out of my ass and realized I could just write another one. It's not like it's hard. I swear, some days it's amazing I can drive to work and remember to wear pants.

Behold (click to embiggen, and if you can't read it, then aren't you glad I type this blog):
Yes, my hand cramped up while I was writing that. And I think that's the first time I've ever signed something "Lumpyhead's Mom." That was kind of weird.

H8NU H1N1

I dithered a bit about getting the kids vaccinated at first. I had some crazy naggings about vaccine safety, and I really didn't want to wait with the rioting masses of frenzied nutjobs.

Then I read and heard from enough people stricken with H1N1 who were all WOE! and IT'S GOING TO KILL US ALL! and 47 KAJILLION CHILDREN ARE ABSENT FROM SCHOOL! that I decided to get it done.

But the largest factor in my decision-making was that my county has a clinic less than a mile from my house, and had shots on a day that was convenient.

Plus Bump and I felt that if we made a perfunctory effort to get the kids vaccinated - even if it failed - we wouldn't feel so guilty when they were inevitably stricken with the flu.

So yesterday we raced to get everyone loaded in the van, I notified my office that I would be a little late for work, and we showed up at 8:30 for an 8:00 clinic. (Our goal was to arrive before 8, but, [shrug], you know.)

They had 300 doses. I'm guessing we were number 340.

But waiting in line for an hour and getting turned away gave us a plan for today. By God, now that we had gone through a little bit of trouble, we were going all the way and getting the damn vaccine. (Why waste only an hour, when you could waste several?)

So. This morning I packed my thermos and a folding chair, bundled up and got to the clinic at 7am. Bump met me there with the kids at 8 o'clock.

We were numbers 110-112.

I was feeling good. We juggled the children and toys and snacks in a long line in a frigid parking lot. More importantly, it was someone else's kid who was whining incessantly and kicking his mother. (GO US! WIN!)

We finally got inside where Bump filled out paperwork and I tried to keep Nathan Jr from bolting away while I threw random books and things at Lumpyhead and Lula to keep them quiet.

Lumpyhead and Lula bravely got the mist and Nathan Jr squealed angrily when he got his shot. Then we were reminded that we needed to come back in a month for their second doses.

And I almost cried.

Obligatory Halloween Costume Photos

Yeah, yeah, it's like the 4th of November but I've had issues. Here:

Balloon Boy

King Kong
King Kong after I figured out how to put the collar of his costume on right.

Dora Being Abducted by Aliens

Lula HATED her costume. Lumpyhead agreed to wear the alien suit during Trick-or-Treat Round II in Aunt Bob's neighborhood, so at least my work wasn't all for naught.

--

Oh, did you see that Brad Pitt wants to be like Lumpyhead?

Brad Pitt went trick-or-treating.

Lumpyhead is all: Dude, that was so two years ago.

Oh My God You Guys

In the last month or so, my car has needed new brakes, a new side mirror (ahem), and a new exhaust system. My camera broke. Over the weekend my computer died.

Ded. Doornail dead. My IT guy at work took a look at it and uttered the words "total loss." The data is irretrievable and of course I haven't backed anything up in like, ever.

So there's that.

I've got so much to tell you. There are Halloween photos to share and I did a sleep study and Beth did this really cool handwriting thing but first things first:

We voted today before the kids went to school.

"Hey Lumpyhead, put your sticker on your head."
"Hey Nathan Jr, be distracted by these animal crackers long enough for me to put a sticker on your head."
"Hey Lula, put your sticker on your head."
Uh, Lula declined to be photographed wearing the sticker.