Arm Funk
The funk on my arm that started on Monday (that I originally thought was ringworm) is some sort of "contact dermatitis". I went to the doctor today because it kept me awake alot last night by being an uncomfortable nuisance (and because it seems to be morphing into something of apocalyptic proportions). The doc said it was probably from Poison Sumac or Poison Oak. The interesting part is that you have to have some sort of contact with said poison trees in order to get it, and considering I seldom go farther than the back garden room... I'll let you ponder that for yourself. It really is becoming quite a pestilential encumbrance. The doc gave me a prescription for a steriod cream to aid in decreasing the itchiness. I will be able to aquire said cream tomorrow, until then I just have to suck it up and use the completely unsuccessful hydrocortisone cream.
Interesting factiod:
Hydrocortisone cream is an anti-pruritic. It is used to stop itching
The definition of prurient:
1. having, inclined to have, or characterized by lascivious or lustful thoughts, desires, etc.
2. causing lasciviousness or lust.
3. having a restless desire or longing.
So does that mean that I have a lustful rash on my forearm? Thus I should put anti-lust cream on it? And if I am a prude should I use an extra amount to be sure the lascivious rash doesn't threaten my propriety?
I know pruritic means itchy, I was just being silly.
Anti-Social
I have been thinking lately about how anti-social I tend to be. I think that this has been prominently in my mind since watching
What about Bob?. Watching it made me realize that maybe, just maybe I am actually not anti-social, maybe I actually have some sort of mental disorder that makes it not possible for me to be comfortable around people who are outside of a home. I never make any sort of effort to talk to people. I try to stay at home as much as possible ( mainly because I don't like to go out, that requires getting out of p.j.'s and making sure one doesn't have bed hair, not to mention getting the kinner into a socially acceptable state). I have so many good and viable reasons to stay at home, to not talk to people who I don't know, to keep my children as far away from others as possible. Why in the world should I be social? I mean, there are a few select people who I really enjoy being around and getting to know better, but outside of them I don't really
care. I feel like some sort of horrible troll hiding away in my cave and if anyone gets to close I have to slam the cave door (some caves can have doors) to make sure no one will see inside. Yeah, I think there is something wrong with me.
Speech impairment...
X-man went to the Doc’s for a normal “well baby” check up today. He is thirty six pounds, eight ounces; and three feet, three inches tall. She suggested that I need to take him to a speech therapist. I don’t particularly know that that is necessary, but I kind of want him to talk like a typical two and a half year old. So what I am saying is that I can’t decide if I want to go ahead and accept the appointment they are going to make for him, or if I should cancel it completely. I know boys develop more slowly that girls, but I can’t help but wish that my child was as verbally adept as all the others his age (and a lot that are younger than him {there was a boy waiting in the doc's office, his mom said he would turn two in two moths, and he could say pretzle, PRETZLE!!! My kid hasn't even made it to "p" words yet}). It makes me feel inadequate. Like I haven't done a good enough job of trying to teach him to talk. I mean, I myself stutter rather often and mangle phrases and words that I know how to say, it is just that my toungue doesn't want to cooperate. So maybe I am the one that needs to see to speech therapist. I seek the advise of my peers...
hmmm...
First giggle, exactly one week ago. It made my insides go flip-flop.
A freind of mine brought up some very thought provoking questions this past Wednesday. It mainly had to do with how my time is spent in relationship to how time should be spent. The one that I really had trouble figuring out any kind of answer to was one that asked what my goals are. I honestly have no clue. How can I have goals when I don't really look past today, much less ten years from now? I am trying so hard just to "get through" life that I have not even attempted to find something to look forward to. Right now, the only thing I have to look forward to is when the little man will stop whining because he is in time out.
Feeling much better now. Just have a raw nose now.
Sick, AGAIN...
I feel like I have been squashed through a garlic press and sauteed to a fine caramelized stage (yes, I have been watching
America's Test Kitchen with RC far too much). I suddenly developed a head cold today at about one or two p.m., and it has been kicking my butt ever since. I can't believe how quickly this snuck up on me. All yesterday I felt fine, last night (during my wonderful shower) I felt fine, this morning I felt fine. Why? How? I never knew that it could happen this suddenly. I feel positively abominable. I love the conviniences of modern day science, that I can sit here in my bed, eating pizza while on my husband's laptop and complain to the world (or whoever reads this) about this loathsome head cold is absolutely priceless to me.
In other news...
I had a wonderful shower last night, thrown for me and my new daughter by our small groups. She got lots of beautiful, useful gifts from all of our friends. I also went to a children's consignment sale today (and used up an entire package and a bit of the pocket packs of kleenex) and bought some good winter clothes for the kids. I felt horrid while I was there, so I didn't do as much looking as I would like to have done.
I tell you what, as much as I like this modern day convinience, I keep hitting the touch pad button instead of the space bar. It is somewhat disturbing.
Free!!!
So, I got the tags the very next day, after much driving back and forth between the bank and the buy-your-tags place (whatever it is called). I then went and bought dog food (YaY!), and got my hair cut (again, YaY!). Then I went to Target, but when I got off of the interstate it started pouring down rain. So, I ended up sitting in the truck for fifteen minutes waiting for it to blow over since I didn't have my umbrella, and I wasn't about tp try to haul two kids through that down pour. Then I went home. That is all there was to that exciting day.
I am practically becoming an expert on breast feeding in public! Next time you see me at Wal-mart, I'll probably be walking around with my little sweet feet attached at the bosom. Yeah, that was pretty gross.
I am so happy to be pain-free now. It was so tedious, not being able to breathe with out pain. I hope I never again take something so simple and routine for granted again. Unfortunatly, I know that I am bound to.
I realised today while emailing someone that I haven't got many photos of "the new one" up over
here. I will try to remedy that soon. I do have wonderful gory photos up though.
The latest...
License plates are expired. No money for new tags. Feel caged. Need to get out.
In other news, the little man now can say diaper (daaaaaaaaaaai-puh), tea, two (while he holds up his two cute little fingers), and he has also learned how to disarm nuclear missiles (not really, I wish, but yesterday he did help to mix up the pancake batter). He also kisses and hugs on his little sister so much it is almost bothersome. When ever she starts crying he crosses his arms and violently shakes them back and forth and then forcefully jabs his finger in her direction several times as if to say (with out making any noise at all) "Lady, can't you hear that kid. Go shut her up!" Either that, or he looks at her scowls and says in this un-earthly nerve wracking voice "nyu-oh". Yes, that would be the two year old version of "Shut your bloomin' pie hole". All in all it is not very surprising that he does that, since that is what we say to the dogs when they make any sort of noise. He also says it to the dogs, but normally just when they are in his way. He accompanies that vocal order with a sweep of his hand as if it were a plane taking flight, as if to let them know exactly what he wants them to do.
