2/21/2005 12:10:00 PM|||Amy|||The last few weeks have been tricky at best. With a new found resolve, I started working out again to achieve better health, peace of mind, and whatever else comes as a benefit from vigorously shaking one's ass in half hour stretches. Bear turned 7. All three kids came down with a horrible (but only because of spiking fevers) virus which necessitated one emergency visit to the doctor on a Saturday morning, and another emergency visit to the ER of a children's hospital last night. Then, of course, I've been dealing with my own personal, internal melodrama of trying to figure out where things stand in my adult relationships, and fighting off the depression demons which sometimes come a-calling whenever I think about the events of the last two months.

So, the working out thing lasted two days, and for the last 3 or 4 I have been on a binge. I've been trying to stem the binge a little by snacking on fiber rich cereal, but then there were a couple of episodes with a tub of frosting, cups of hot chocolate from Starbucks (have you tried that shit? It's really, really... well... to put it in an understated way... fucking incredible) and some chocolate chip cookie dough. All that, and if I don't lose five pounds by the first of March (plus, whatever I've packed on since the first of February) I have to buy a co-worker lunch at a place I can't afford for just myself. The pressure is on, Baby!!

Bear's birthday went a lot better than I had hoped. We had a very small and understated family party at home on the evening of his birthday which consisted of a dinner, birthday cake with a Power Rangers landscape, ice cream and presents. The dinner part is a long standing family tradition in which the birthday boy or girl chooses the menu. Our dinner on that night was corn dogs and carrots, though I included sausages for the grown-ups. (Probably that was actually day one of my binge which - when I tell the truth - has been going on since February 9, the day of Bear's birthday.)

Then, on the Saturday we had a party at McDonald's to which he invited kid's from school. I was worried that all 18 of his classmates were going to show up, but in reality there were only about 11. The whole thing was a lot less expensive than what I had expected, and did you know that McDonald's provides party bags, cake, ice cream, happy meals, balloons and invitations?? Holy Christ! I'm glad I didn't give in to the local pizza and games joint. The thing about this particular McDonald's is that it had been recently re-modeled and therefore, it was still a cool place to play. Only the best for my little boy!

So, then, last Thursday Bear woke up with a sore throat and being the kind of Mom I am - I didn't even blink before I told him to go back to bed and stay home and rest. He was running a fever (which I realized later) and stayed home on Friday as well. Saturday morning at around 5 or 6am - before the sun was up anyway, he vomited a couple of times. And thus began Bear's morning of hell.

As soon as the doctor's office opened for their Saturday hours, I called and made an appointment. Bear was fine, of course. No fever, no throwing up, no nothing. Then, afterwards, we went to the store and he spewed all over the self-service check-out.

Last night Winston was discovered to have a fever of 104.4, and off she went to the ER because their pediatrician, unfortunately, doesn't keep Sunday evening hours. It cost a hundred bucks for a dose of Motrin and the knowledge that she has a virus.

This morning, Monkey is following in the footsteps of her brother and sister, and is sporting a temp. of 102.

God help us all. All I really want to do is get the goddamned house cleaned.

So, off I go, because as it turns out - company is on its way and I can no longer wax eloquently about my children's illnesses or my interpersonal skill set.|||110901134463215947|||Whew!