Spike's Bitches 22: You've got Angel breath
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
{{Cashmere}} Brendon Jr. has vomitted maybe twice in his entire 13 years of life. Bobby was nicknamed "back at ya Mom" as a kid. He still (at 10) gets sick once or twice a month. He is almost trained to at least seek tile floor.
Speaking of Bobby, in my never ending battle to get him healthy I sent 4 viles of his blood off for allergy testing. The only thing that got a moderate reaction was oranges. It seems more likely that his constant congestion is dust, or mold, or dog related. Ugh.
Anne - would you be so kind as to send me your snail mail address? Not sayin' why.
Gronk.
The neighbors started bumping obnoxious music before I wanted to get up. Until there's coffee, I'm just going to sit here pondering how they should die.
ION, Happy Birthday -t, Kristin, and MFNLaw!!!
Laura, insent.
I was planning on lounging until noon, then working, but the motivation has kicked in. I'm gonna get up and get to work. Yeehaw!
Bobby was nicknamed "back at ya Mom" as a kid.
Hee!
He still (at 10) gets sick once or twice a month. He is almost trained to at least seek tile floor.
Oh, poor little guy. Sounds like his allergens aren't easy to avoid, either--at least dust and mold, and if you have a doggie, well...shoot.
We had one horrific night, when Ben and Chris both had a stomach virus, one from which Julia was still recovering. Ben would
vomit at 12:00. Chris would vomit at 12:15. Ben would vomit at 12:30. Chris would vomit at 12:45. It went on 'til (I think) 4 o'clock in the morning. Chris was still a baby, maybe Owen's age, and we couldn't get him to aim, at all. We finally put him in the portacrib in the living room, surrounded it with towels, and put more towels over the mattress. Ben could at least hit the bucket. We were up doing laundry all. night. long. During this, Ben tried to make it to the bathroom, rather than the bucket, one time. He threw up in the hallway on the floor and wall. Scott washed the floor while I settled the boys. Scott took the mop & bucket down cellar to empty it, slipped, and dropped it, and so ended up having to wash the cellar stairs and floor, too.
It was like something out of Dante.
Ah yes, the joys of parenhood. I see the acupuncturist Monday with the allergy report. He had wanted me to do the trial and error method, but I couldn't deal. Since food has been ruled out I'm glad I went the testing route. He actually said that if it is the dog we can fix that. He explained that we would take a swab of saliva from the dog, and Bobby, then they mix them together in some chemical or something and make a "vacine" of sorts. No doubt I will find out more about this Monday.
If it is dust and mold causing his problem he needs a new mother.
I just ran a bunch of errands...all at the post office. I feel all accomplished. And it's not even noon on a Saturday. I treated myself to Dunkin' Donuts. Of course, there's a little problem with that plan. I'm still going to have to make coffee when Emily gets up (either that or run back out to DD). Oh, well. The breakfast sandwhich is worth it.
Hi everyone! Thanks for all the birthday wishes!
Happy Belated Birthday, -t! Happy Birthday Kristin and Maria!
{{Cashmere and Owen}} Poor babies, all of you. I hope Owen starts feeling better and you get some sleep, Cash.
I'm up, not so sure about awake. Coffee is not to hand yet, so awake won't occur for a while.
If it is dust and mold causing his problem he needs a new mother.
If it is dust, he needs a new planet, Laura. If it is mold, y'all need a new home state.
Sail, coffeefastma to you.
vw, Emily is a big old sleepyhead, isn't she?
Kristin! Are you doing anything special for your birthday?
If it is mold, y'all need a new home state.
Mold is a bitch. (And not in a good 'One of us' kind of way.) I'm really sensitive to it, and when I worked at a bookstore, I could walk in the door, be there about thirty seconds, and tell my boss "We have a mold problem."
