Pertussis and How to "Whoop" the Whooping Cough

First off, I need to state that I am not, by any means, a medical doctor.

Second of all, I need to state that I am not, by any means, over this dreadful cough. This will be the first post on this subject as I will hopefully learn and experience more relief as the days and weeks continue. Yes, you read right- WEEKS (!), as I am currently on week 5, at least.

Third of all, regretfully, I will not be giving you any links because I still feel really cruddy, I'm on my laptop and the articles I read are on my phone. I did write down these facts that lead to my final disclaimer:

• the incubation period (when you are exposed to it and when you show symptoms) is typically 7-10 days, but could be anywhere from 6-20 days
• you are contagious for the first 3 weeks, which is usually before you realize that anything is really wrong (it presents as a typcial cold or a simple cough)
• the cough lasts for months and is called the "100 day cough" because of this

Finally, you need to understand that this post will be full of sarcasm because the more I find out about this disease, the more I realized that so much is known, unknown, diagnosed and undiagnosed.

Alrighty then, without any further ado,

How to "Whoop" the Whooping Cough:

1. Get a vaccine, or don't; get a booster, or don't. Our family history includes the following: me- no booster, I've had the many pretty severe symptoms for 5 weeks, milder coughing for a week or 2 before that; my husband- no booster, seems to have mild symptoms; 13 year old daughter- booster last year, seems to be fine but has coughed a few times this last week (we're keeping tabs on this!); 7 year old daughter- full series of shots (the last boost in 2008), she's started showing signs this last week and is the only one that has actually "whooped"; and finally, my 2 year old son- 2 shots (the last one was 3 months ago!), he's on about week 4 that we can remember.
2. Take antibiotics, or don't. It really depends on when you realize you have pertussis (aka: whooping cough). Antibiotics only do any good in the first 2-3 weeks and the point is to stop you from being contagious. From what I have read, it does very little to help with the actual symptoms and doesn't shorten the disease. I took them, possibly during the right time and they didn't help my symptoms AT ALL. I may or may not have spread it to my family since they may or may not have been exposed to other people with pertussis.
3. Take probiotics, or don't. I don't know about this one because I haven't tried it yet. I have a friend that is on them at the suggestion of her naturopath. I guess you can sprinkle the capsule on food and take it that way. I doubt my son will do that, even more so since she told me her daughter won't. She also mentioned that they make a gummy form, which I will try to find tomorrow. Cod liver oil is also on the naturopath's list of remedies, but again, I know I can't get my son to take this.
4. Don't get angry, it makes the cough worse. For me this means staying away from everyone and not reading anything, especially nothing medical or political. Seeing as I've been very sick for over a month now, you can judge for yourself how good I am at the "no angry" step. I've been better at keeping my son calm, which does help. If he gets upset and cries or yells, he often goes into a coughing fit. You get it, be happy.
5. Be cool, but stay warm. This may be specific to our little family of symptoms, but it seems to be common amongst the 3 of us. We want to be warm but we all need fresh or cool air. I am most comfortable under a blanket with socks and the front door open. My son constantly wants to be outside and sleeps better with the window open but under covers. My daughter is in long sleeves, long pants and a light blanket with the ceiling fan on. Why all the details? Because these are atypical actions for all of us and I noticed them AFTER I read somewhere that this was one of the signs/symptoms that one might be suffering from pertussis. I'm not making this stuff up.
6. Eat chocolate, but not the candy coated kind. Dark chocolate has theobromine in it that helps sooth a cough. I didn't really care about the cough until my son went 3 days without holding anything down. The cough would cause him to gag and upchuck everything he had eaten. Eventually he wasn't even gagging, just throwing it all up as he asked for a bowl. It was quite sad. I haphazardly found the chocolate solution while trying to find a homeopathic remedy for pertussis. Not having any dark chocolate on hand, I gave him some semi-sweet chocolate chips. He hasn't thrown up since. I bought some dark chocolate that he won't eat, so I'll be enjoying the Ghirardelli myself. (no worries there: I eat less of the dark chocolate and I had a $1 off coupon at Walgreens)
7. Cold drinks may help. There are several stages of the disease, and several symptoms that one may experience. All 3 of us seem to be showing different symptoms (that I know about). One homeopathic site I was on suggested that cold liquids may make one feel better. On top of the chocolate, I started giving my son ice water. Being 2, he can't really tell me his symptoms, but since he had been throwing up even tepid water and juice, I figured ice water wouldn't hurt.
8. Check into a homeopathic remedy, if you want. My friend sent me a link to anAustralian Homeopathic group. Alright, here's the homepage: http://homeopathyplus.com.au/ You'll have to search for the pertussis stuff yourself. There were at least half a dozen remedies, depending on what stage and what symptoms you had. One seemed to help me, but it either didn't work on my son or made him worse. It's kind of hard to tell since pertussis runs in stages.
9. Have a pertussis test done, or don't. I don't think it will really matter. It is very rare that this test will come back positive. This is the most frustrating of all things I've come across. I actually read on the CDC website that the clinical test is super sensitive so they don't miss any cases in their studies, but that the public test is super INsensitive so that the public is not alarmed by an outbreak. Wait, aren't you the Center for Disease Control? Yeah, I guess if the public finds out there is a pertussis outbreak you are proving that you aren't controlling anything and that the vaccine doesn't really prevent anything. I guess it does make sense to use a test that won't diagnose anything.
10. Try a juice fast, or don't. I actually did this before I found out I was exposed to pertussis. I was having such a hard time breathing and I felt like I was choking and gagging on everything. Those particular symptoms did improve because there was simply nothing to gag on. I read how to do a juice fast it in a book at Hi Health which included: 2 days of nothing but (raw) fruits and veggies, 3 days of fresh juice (no tomato or orange), and 2 more days of fruits and veggies. I never would have made it without my husband and quite honestly, after day 1 1/2 I didn't want anymore juice. I think I got 8oz down on day 3, and then lived on lemon water. Possibly the most important thing this did for me was to stay away from dairy, which reduced the amount of mucus to hack up. OK, update: that was super, super important so I'm giving it it's own number.
11. AVOID DAIRY LIKE THE PLAGUE. I realize you probably feel like you have the plague already if you have pertussis (although those who have had the plague will probably argue), but if you have dairy you will feel worse. 'Nuf said? Words like phlegm, mucus, paroxysm, etc. are just the beginning. Don't go there, no matter how good the food sounds (although no food probably sounds good), and don't let your child with pertussis have it, no matter how hard he screams. (We bagged up the yogurt and hid it, bought soy milk for cereal...)

What will I be doing next? I was sort of bullied into taking my kids to the doctor tomorrow since my son was still throwing up. I considered cancelling, but since my daughter is still possibly within the 3 week contagious window I will keep the appointment and see if we should start her on some antibiotics. If it can possibly reduce her symptoms and stop the spread of this wretched disease, then I'm going to give her some meds. Ugh. My son is past the contagious point so I'm going to try to find the probiotic gummies, and possibly the cod liver oil if I get it for myself. I'll be going with some probiotics for sure and probably getting another homeopathic remedy based on my new symptoms.

Since it was hard to find, yet has some of the best details on pertussis, I broke disclaimer 3:

http://homeopathyplus.com.au/whooping-cough-homeopathic-prevention-and-treatment-2/

Dear Allrecipe Critics,

If you don't like spinach, don't make spinach enchiladas. Duh! Please don't give them a bad rating because you are stupid. Of course you didn't like them, you don't like spinach.

Let's review: don't try a recipe with ingredients that you don't like and then say it is no good.

Fondly,

H

Are You Sick of Highly Paid Teachers?

by Meredith Menden on Friday, February 18, 2011 at 6:32pm

Are you sick of highly paid teachers?

Teachers' hefty salaries are driving up taxes, and they only work 9 or10 months a year! It's time we put things in perspective and pay them for what they do - babysit!

We can get that for less than minimum wage.

That's right. Let's give them $3.00 an hour and only the hours they worked; not any of that silly planning time, or any time they spend before or after school. That would be $19.50 a day (7:45 to 3:00 PM with 45 min. off for lunch and plan-- that equals 6 1/2 hours).

Each parent should pay $19.50 a day for these teachers to baby-sit their children. Now how many students do they teach in a day...maybe 30? So that's $19.50 x 30 = $585.00 a day.
However, remember they only work 180 days a year!!! I am not going to pay them for any vacations.

LET'S SEE....
That's $585 X 180= $105,300 per year.

(Hold on! My calculator needs new batteries).

"Men Are Such Pigs"

Bill uttered these words to me after recounting the lecture they received at work on how you are not supposed to put your gum in the Sharps container in the bathrooms. Really? Duh. What moron would do that? Here is Bill's answer:

"It's probably the same idiot that takes a dump and wipes his boogers all over the stall door, then washes his hands so he can get a paper towel to drop on the floor before he sticks his gum in the small hole of the Sharps container to clog it up."

This is also probably the same guy that got binoculars banned from the University of Phoenix building. Yep, you're not allowed to take any magnifying device of any kind onto the premises. Parking lot included. Why? Some idiot was oogling someone in the parking lot with some binoculars.

"Men are such pigs." (a woman never would have been caught!)

Thud!

That was me falling off the bed at 3am this morning.

Who does that? Who actually falls off the bed?

Stupid boys taking up the whole bed! It's a good thing they are cute.

Ugh. What If I'm Really Just Not a Morning Person?

"Early to rise and early to bed..."


BLAH! Makes me want to puke. Or at least stay up late eating ding dongs and chips and salsa and watching scary movies so I'm sure to have nightmares, thus rendering me useless come dawn. I thought some of this attitude would change when I became a mother and had responsibilities. So far, four responsibilities later, no change. It's nearly 11pm at night and I'm just now getting around to opening a school letter that apparently came last week some time. Why would I open it in the daylight hours? All the chattering, hungry, filthy responsibilities are running around at my feet and in my face. I can't get anything done or concentrate with all that jibber-jabber going on.


In my welcome letter the teacher writes, and I quote:


"Your child's educational experience begins upon waking...Try to make your child's waking, readying, and travel to school as pleasant, consistent, and rhythmical as possible, for a child who is awakened gently, has a consistent and timely morning ritual of washing, dressing, etc, and who receives a warm, nourishing protein-filled breakfast, is a child who is ready to begin a day of learning."


See now, if I had read that last sentence in the morning it would have made no sense to me at all. It makes perfect sense to me right now but that doesn't mean I can do it. Well, I could do it if I could start the morning off at 11pm at night. OK, I realize I'm coming off as joking about all this, but I really am sincere. I've tried to be a morning person but it's just not in me. I've met morning people, and it just doesn't rub off. I've even had a stint of a couple of months where I woke up at 5am every day and I tell ya, still not a morning person. I'm perfectly capable of doing stuff and thinking and whatnot, but please don't ask me to interact with people in a "pleasant, consistent and rhythmical" manner. When I was teenager I actually told (maybe screamed) my mom, "can I PLEASE just have a shower before you bombard me with questions?!"


The letter goes on, assuming that you have had a peaceful morning ritual in your home and not the draggingherbuttoutofbedandeatingoatmealinthecarwhileputtingonhershoes experience that is more typical of last year, and says:


"Sometimes travel makes it difficult to sustain the peacefulness of a morning ritual. Please make every effort to let your child's travel to school be as hassle free as possible. Young children especially, need not be exposed to audio book tapes, electronic hand-held games, news, music or inappropriate conversation while traveling to school. parents are encouraged to discuss their expectations with any carpool drivers in order to reach a common understanding."


Double ugh. Tell me now: how am I supposed to drive to school with out some head thumpin' music to drown out the children's inappropriate conversations? Huh? Huh? Answer me this question please! I'm trying very hard to figure out if I'm turning onto Priest or 48th street, I can't redirect conversation amongst elementary school children. If they want to talk poop and pee or Pokemon then that is their business. I can't maintain a coherent thought in my own head, much less come up with appropriate 6 and 7 year old conversation over the whines of 9 month old. Music I tell ya, music is my saving grace. Sorry carpool buddy, this is the way we roll.

So, I'll try with all my might to entertain these values. But, at the end of the morning, I'm going to be happy if Tasha made it to school dressed, 2 unmatched socks, unkempt hair, and a few spoonfuls of oatmeal that she ate while singing, "I am a rock star, I got my rock boots, and I don't need you tonight." It's alright. School will go on and learning will commence.

Are you Freaking Kidding Me?

There I was, minding my own business, typing a blog post, when I look up to see an invader. At the very toppest of the wall, right below the popcorn ceiling, was a bug, crawling. And it wasn't just any bug. It was a stupid freaking cockroach. And it wasn't just crawling. It was crawling it's stupid freaking cockroach legs across my wall, over my computer desk where I was sitting, minding my own business. Where the freak did he come from?!

Of course, I do what any unreasonable woman would do at 11pm at night when there is a freaking cockroach crawling around over her head. I jump up and go wake up Bill and run back in the room to make sure that monster doesn't get out of site. He's halfway across the room by now and Bill is not coming fast enough. I am glad, however, that when he finally does make it he has come armed with a weapon of mass squash-struction. I was sure that bad boy would do the trick.

I moved the diaper bag from under the stricking point so if he fell he didn't fall in there. I armed myself with a broom, just because that felt safer than nothing. Then I watched Bill line up for the kill. He stood back, held up the squasher, struck and missed. Damn it! Move quickly, move quickly, strike again before he runs too quickly. As Bill went back for another strike, I did the little dance of "Holy crap you missed, damn it, damn it, damn it, get him, get him, get hiiiiimmmmm..."

Well. I can't really talk about this next part. I am seriously close to tears just thinking about it. I keep getting shivers and cringing and popping my feet up on the chair even though I know that damn thing isn't crawling around by my feet.

OK. He flew. As Bill aimed for the second time that freaking cockroach flew off the wall, whizzed by my head, and flew to the other side of the room not to be seen from again. I kid you not. I've heard of flying roaches before, but You.Have.Got.To.Be.Kidding.Me!!! Oh man, what do I do?!

SH--! That damn thing just reemerged. I ran back, shoved Bill awake, grabbed the weapon, heard Payton yell out and ran back to the scene of the crime. He was gone. Damn it. I opened doors, banged on cabinets, threw out a few swear words, but nothing budged that little monster. I went back the bedroom, defeated, once again. While I nursed Payton back to sleep, Bill went out and did who knows what. I half expected him to come back claiming that he got the thing, but he didn't. It's a good thing too because I know he would have been lying just to help ease my mind.

Tomorrow I'm calling the exterminator. Better yet, I'll go online and see if I can set up an appointment via the Internet. Until they come, I'll be the one not sleeping...

R.O.F.L.

Rolling On the Floor Laughing (for you non-texters)

I'm a fan of allrecipes.com. I can search for anything and find it. I can list ingredients and get something for dinner. I can list ingredients I don't want, and not have them. Whatever. I like it because they send me a recipe every day which makes me think about dinner, which, in turn, gets me to cook dinner. Allrecipes.com has gotten me to cook. Thank you.

I sort of like that there are many takes on certain foods. Take, for instance, a search for "tuna casserole". How many ways can you combine tuna, noodles, and a cream soup? Apparently 56 different ways. Some have cheese, some veggies, some crushed potato chips, and some have french fried onions. How do you pick? Well, I'd not pick one with peas if I don't like peas. If I don't have potato chips, I don't think I'll pick that one. Seriously, with 56 recipes, I can be picky.

So I read the reviews. Ugh. The reviews. But you kind of have to read at least some of the reviews because they are helpful and sometimes there is a drastic mistake in the original recipe. (I read several comments on a chicken recipe that said the chicken was burnt...apparently the original directions said to cook it at 450 for something like 45 minutes. Yeesh. It was a typo, should have been 350.)

But here's where some people crack me up. (Bear with me, I'm almost there.) These are the first 2 comments on the Easy Tuna Casserole recipe I decide to go with:

Reviewed on Jan. 14, 2008 by ChgoFoodieGal
The recipe's fine as is. I don't understand the need on the part of some to completely re-write the recipe. If you do that, you've created a NEW recipe, so why bother rating this one, as is? (Am I gonna be banned/kicked off the recipe.com site now for pointing out rudeness?) Just curious. :) This is a new take on the tuna casserole recipe. You either like it or you don't. I think it's fine, as written. Thank you to the creator for posting their creation.

Reviewed on Oct. 23, 2008 by Bennybbc
Great recipe but I'm completely in agreement with the review and comments by, "ChgoFoodieGal". And in that spirit I made some changes to the recipe. For the macaroni I substituted flour, baking soda and baking powder. For the tuna I substituted eggs. For the onions I substituted oil. For the cheese I substituted buttermilk. I ended up with a batter that I cooked on a hot griddle and ended up with pancakes. But it was a great tuna casserole recipe! ;~} Honestly, making a minor change to a recipe you're reviewing is one thing but most of these reviews have changed so many ingredients that I don't see why they bother to review it. It kind of misses the point of posting recipes with specific ingredients, doesn't it? This recipe is either good as it is, (or with a minor modification) or it isn't.

That being said, my noodles are cooking, I'm subbing cream of mushroom for chicken and possibly adding some corn or peas. A-HA! L.M.A.O.

Dear Jenny,

I hate you.

And your stupid sister-in-law.

I went to your blog, linked to one of the blogs you follow, and read this post.

Damn you. Now I'm all worked up and there's nobody home for me to rant at.

I'm such a bad Mormon. That post I read just confirms this fact. I won't be teaching my children all this nonsense about marrying early and starting their family right away. That's just garbage. Do I really think that they will have such little self-control that they will have sex before getting married just because they wait until they are mature enough to marry? I would certainly hope not. I have no problem if they truly meet their spouse at a young age and marry, but I agree with your mom that rushing to get married because you're afraid you'll have sex is just plain stupid. She's a wise woman, your mother. You can tell her so.

I hate your sister-in-law because I borrowed her book and it tells me that I can't actually blame you for my feelings. I need to take ownership for them or else you are in control of me. We all know how I feel about people controlling me now, don't we?

This book that I'm reading (Easy to Love, Difficult to Discipline) is, in fact, the dumb book that you were supposed to read for a book club and didn't read. It's "therapy in a book" and it's "knocking my socks off" to quote 2 very brilliant women, that I hate.

And, FYI, when I say "shut up" to Bill, he responds with "I love you too." So, you can figure out what "I hate you" means and get back to me.

I really should have gone to bed with Payton. I'm really just waiting for Bill to bring me home one of a couple hundred chicken legs that he just bar-b-qued.

H

Then and Than

People, please! You know the difference between these two words. Use them correctly! There are way too many educated people out there switching them around. There is no excuse for this nonsense. Slow down, take your time, and sound it out. It's not rocket science. But, since rocket science takes a fair amount of time and effort and sometimes we are typing quickly and spewing our thoughts across the net, I will forgive you some of the time. One of those times, however, is NOT on your blogger profile. If I click on your name because you comment on some one's blog that I know and in your profile it says then for than... well, I think you're just plain stupid!

Rant is over. Thanks for "listening".

Whatsa "tare"?

Bill just left to go see about a stroller he found on Craig's list. I sat down to prepare my lesson for YW tomorrow and he had left the listing up. It read: "This stroller is in very good shape and has no stains or tares."

I'm almost in tears.

That's the kind of tears that come out of your eyes, not the thing that can happen to a piece of paper or fabric. You know, like there is a "tear" in the fabric of this stroller cover.

I Know You Have an Opinion on...

Hard boiled eggs in salad. Just gross. I tried it to get some protein and it ruined the whole dang thing!

Quilted toilet paper. Does it really matter? And why are the squares 4x4.5 inches? If they were perfect squares then we could probably craft with them.

Ice in milk? I like "ice cold milk" just as much as the next guy, but ick. I know, I know, blend it up and it's a shake. But if you put an ice cube in milk and then drink it it's like there's something lumpy in your milk and that's just disgusting, no?


Pickles on sanwiches? Yick. Hamburgers are OK, but not with deli meat. I made a kid a sandwich at my house one day and he asked if I had any pickles. I said, "no" just because the thought grossed me out. I think I really did have them. Poor kid. Then there are bread and butter pickles...let's not even go there people! Pickles=sour, not sweet! Double, triple, even quadruple yick!

"Environmentally Friendly"

I attended an event this past weekend where they served us lunch. We received instructions on how to pick up our food and then they requested that in an effort to be "environmentally friendly" we should empty our water bottles and recycle them in the designated bin. Very nice, recycling.

Then I got my lunch. In a colorful paper bag, with a contrasting color of tissue paper in it. It looked very nice. I sat down to a table with colorful paper plates that we could use for our sack lunch. Then I pulled out my lunch. One snack sized Ziploc bag with grapes in it. One snack sized Ziploc bag with veggies in it. One snack sized Ziploc bag with a croissant in it. One snack sized Ziploc bag with a tortilla roll in it. One snack sized Ziploc bag with 2 cookies and an individually wrapped chocolate in it. One snack sized Ziploc bag with some sun chips in it. One styrofoam container with some delicious chicken salad, accompanied by a plastic fork.

I folded up my tissue paper and tucked it inside the colorful bag and put it in my bag to take home. It will make a nice birthday package for someone soon. I cringed as I threw away the remains of all my plastic lunch containers in the very colorful garbage bin. It was colorful because everyone else seemed to have thrown away their birthday packaging. What a waste!

Sure am glad we recycled those water bottles!

The School/Vacation Cycle

As school is ending we are thrilled that we won't have to pack lunches anymore, drive to and from school daily, deal with the social drama and homework, end of the year parties, teacher gifts and hoopla. Yada, yada. School is over for the summer, what a relief. If we're smart we have planned at a least a class or trip for the kids to look forward to and for us to get some relief.

About halfway through the summer we start thinking to ourselves, "Is this almost over? Are the kids ever going to stop bugging me?"

A few weeks later we're talking with other moms, "Is this almost over? Are the kids ever going to stop bugging us?"

A few weeks after that the kids are asking us, "Is this almost over? Are you ever going to stop bugging us?"

Then we have the chaos of getting ready for school to actually begin. Some years it is easier than others. Most years you have to go through the wardrobe, tossing clothes that are too small and inappropriate for school., dividing play clothes from school clothes. Establishing a routine again. (Because, let's face it...even though we say we'll keep a routine, it's nice to be the mom that doesn't really care that your child stayed up too late because WE wanted to have fun with OUR friends, right?!) I gave up buying new backpacks and lunchboxes a few years ago, but some people still do that. Pencils, binders, and notebooks of some kind are usually a given. And, because we live in a desert, a new water bottle (to replace the one used all summer) is in order.

Then school starts and we're happy, the kids are happy, there is time for everyone to have their own space. A few weeks, and now closer to a month, goes by and we have Labor Day. The first 3 day holiday of the school year. 3 DAYS! Really that's only one extra day off, but it sounds cool in writing and feels great when your spouse has the day off as well. It's one more day of goofing off. One more day that you don't have to get in bed right on time because you have to get up in the morning. One more day...

But what happened?! Wasn't it just a month ago that we were wishing that school would start right away? What happened to the bliss of having our own time? It's almost midnight and I should be in bed so that I can wake up happily and get the kids to school. But no, I'm wishing that tomorrow was another holiday and that the weekend was longer. What happened to me?

So now I'm thinking that I'm very grateful our charter school does not take a Fall break for a week. That would really throw my groove off. If one extra day does this to me, then what would a week do?! Geez, I better get sleepin'.

(Men are Jerks) AND...Women are Hormonal

We are. Face it ladies. Even when we're not hormonal, we could be. I fought this thought for years and years and even tried to hide the fact that anything during the month had changed. Guess what? It doesn't work. Ask Bill, he knows. In fact, Bill was the one that caught onto the mood swings and PMS before I did and he learned to act (or react) accordingly. What does "accordingly" mean? When I would go on a rage, say mean or hurtful things, cry uncontrollably for no apparent reason, take offense to something really stupid, or just give up for a day, Bill wouldn't blink an eye and he definitely wouldn't point out what time of the month it was. That folks, is why Bill is not a jerk (to me).

So then you'd think, being pregnant, that the hormonal issues might go away for a bit. Maybe they did, for me, but they were replaced by sick, puking feelings, and heaving up stomach acid every morning for 3 months. Nice visual there, huh? Sorry about that. But seriously (!), is that really a fair trade? I think NOT. Then we move onto the late fourth and fifth month when things should be great. Nope, no mercy here folks. I'm not going into details, but let's just say that this summer has sucked (minus a few brief interludes of fun times), and it's hot. Now, I'm headed into the third trimester and this is when, for me, the emotions kick my butt. I take everything personally (probably because I'm getting enormous and am very self conscious about it), cry at the drop of anything, and try really hard not to lash out at anyone but then go into a deep guilt trip once I do. I'd say that's just me, but I've heard reports that this is pretty standard. We all just deal with it differently. But I digress...

Pregnancy doesn't help the hormone front. In fact, it just increases the emotional turmoil going on inside of a woman. It's chaos I tell ya, pure chaos. Most men know this because to see a pregnant woman crying because her lemonade split is not a big deal to them. They understand that hormone clause, but they don't apply that transitive property that we discussed in the "men are jerks" post. Let's try to figure out that equation: IF women are hormonal, AND your hormones temporarily disengage all rational thinking, AND it takes rational thinking to act properly, THEN a hormonal woman is temporarily unable to think and act rationally. Did we all follow that, or were there one too many steps there? If you are a woman and followed that, you are probably not hormonal right now. If you are a man and followed that, bravo (!), you might not need as many jerk cards as you think. Well, you might still need the cards because you really need to apply that theory to make it work in your favor. You need to apply it ALL the time, with ALL women. Most of you figure out how to apply it to your wives (eventually!), but you really have to work it across the board with all women to stay off jerk status. Some of you do this through avoidance (Dave!), which tends to work, in most cases. If we have a (non-jerk) husband or someone else to turn to then we're fine. I think this is where "Girls Night Out" originated. It probably began with a bunch of newlywed women with husbands that hadn't figured them out yet and they all got together to sympathize with each other. But I digressed, again...

Monthly cycles can be brutal and pregnancy doesn't help, so then we have post-pregnancy right? Wrong again, my friends! Some women have postpartum depression, which I have fortunately avoided so I can't really go into detail on that one, thankfully. Then there's nursing. Yes, beautiful nursing... the special bond between mother and child that again, can bring a tear to their mother's eye. I've enjoyed every minute of that time with my children, even the moments when they bite and I want to pitch them across the room. But again, let's be honest here... there comes a point when you say to yourself, "I just want my body back!!!" That body that nobody was reliant on for food. That body that didn't gain 50 pounds to carry the kid. That body that didn't ever fully recover from the last pregnancy, or the last pregnancy, or the pregnancy before that. A few weeks ago my friend was saying how unfair it was that her husband had basically the same body he did when he was in high school, he just grew into it and developed more muscles, and that he could probably continue to have the same body for as long as he wanted. True, oh so true. If they work at it, men really only have their own metabolism against them, right? What do we have? Metabolism, bleeding, nursing children, night-time wakings (which leads to sleep deprivation), necessary weight gain for a healthy baby, etc. Oh, look at that, I digressed, AGAIN (!)...

So "Aunt Flo" is not helpful, pregnancy doesn't fix everything, breast-feeding has it's ups and downs, so we think ahead to the day when all of that is behind us. NO WAY!!! Menopause (!), are you kidding me? I'm not even going there. But let's imagine, for a moment, that you get through menopause without too much emotional scarring, next comes osteoporosis. Oh joy. Brittle bones and the constant fear that you will fall and break a hip. Yep, I think I'll stick with my hormones, thank you very much.

Now the logical man brain is thinking that this is all just a big problem to be solved. Stop just a minute now and remember that you are all jerks! You can't fix us because we're not broken. Stop trying to come up with ridiculous pills and potions and shots that you think you're doing to save us from ourselves but we really know is for your own benefit. And what about natural remedies? Sure they work, and then they don't, and then you have to figure out the other one that works, and then it doesn't. Drink milk to avoid osteoporosis. Oh yeah, except for the years that you can't because dairy makes your nursing infants spit up your breast milk. (And who do I have to thank for that one? Yep, Bill, a man...he and Billy both had a milk intolerance as babies, so it's clear to me that that gene came from him) So you switch to soy milk which ups your estrogen levels and screws with your hormones again. Yeah, yeah, rice milk, almond milk...blah, blah, blah...who has time to figure all this out. Really!?! Because once you find something that works for you it either stops working, or the FDA declares it unsafe and takes it away, or someone in your family becomes allergic to it. I'm sure I digressed here again, but let's face it, I think I've forgotten what this post is about anyway. Oh yeah...

Women are hormonal.

and (back to the original point)

Men are jerks.

Men are jerks because they don't have to deal with any of this. They get to go to work and tune into a different channel for a while. Yes, I sympathize, because it is work and it is responsibility. I support that and try to respect your time at work. I let you opt out of my crying phone calls and pathetic emails when I'm down. I don't call you in the middle of one of your children's fits and have you deal with it. I try to do that without you and, when I can't, I pull the "just wait 'til your father gets home" line and go cry and scream in the laundry room, far away from the eyes and ears of the cause of the problem. And then, in the end, I'm sorry for everything. I'm even sorry for calling you a jerk and for one second wishing we could switch places. I really don't want that. Being a woman can really be a joy and I think being a man must really suck sometimes.

Now, do you really think that any man hung in there to the end of this post? Who am I kidding, they stopped reading at the word "hormonal", am I right? I want to dare them to comment, but instead of doing that I'll give them a free jerk card and end with another math question (and I'll disguise it in words so that I'll know if they just jumped to the end, looking for letters and numbers). Name the theorum: 'a' squared plus 'b' squared equals 'c' squared. That's all I've got. I remember it because I was able to use it while working at the hardware store, with a bunch of men. I think that was when I determined that all men are jerks, I just haven't admitted it until now. Now that I'm openly hormonal.

Argh, Shopping!!!

I haven't been a fan of shopping lately. The only place that has been fun for me is, sadly, Walgreens. Weird, I know. That's where I got all of Kyra's birthday gifts this year. Again, weird, I know. (Birthday post, coming soon) Walgreens is where I pick up my photos and venture down the school supply isle each time. Ah, school supplies. "Don't you just love New York in the Fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. If I knew your name and address I'd send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils..." School supplies gives me hope that there is an end to the summer.

Now, I'm going to attempt Good Will. After psyching myself into it on several occasions, and listening to several women regale me with their good finds and cheap prices, I'm gonna try. Plus, I have a few bags of goods to give them so I can get that coupon for a discount. Wish me luck, the last time I went was for Halloween.

But what about shoes?! I'm seriously in a depressed funk about shoes. I refuse to buy shoes at a second hand store. Rubber rain boots for Tasha, or the pair of skates that she wears once in a blue moon, fine, but not everyday shoes that we're going to sweat in and somebody else has sweated in. Yick. Foot fungus anyone?! (and that politically incorrect line from Bend it Like Beckom comes to mind. What it is A?! That makes me laugh.) I don't even want Kyra wearing my shoes unless they are something like sandals to take out the trash.

But the real issue I have with my shoe funk is that I've probably only bought church shoes at one store in the past 5 years. In fact, it was almost a tradition for me to stop at Mervyn's after the women's conference each fall to see what they had. Mervyn's always had shoes that fit comfortably without even needing breaking in. But alas, my Mervyn's is gone and "they're probably going to put in something really depressing, like a Baby Gap". Oh wait, I'd like a Baby Gap. Instead they're putting in...a...WALMART. Now that's really depressing. I'm gonna go cry now, into my lone pair of black church shoes that don't fit my fat pregnant feet very well anymore...

Men are Jerks

I haven't determined if men have a jerk gene or if they are just missing several genes. You know, the genes that enable you to empathize and care, the one that picks up on signals that help them relate to other human beings (women in particular), the gene shows compassion and a willingness to help even when the situation is not something they understand. And then there's the fact that you can tell them over and over again and they can't seem to transfer the information from time to time or situation to situation. There's a geometry term for that, I think. Or maybe it's a combination of the commutative and distributive property of multiplication.

Yes, full blown pessimistic pregnancy hormones have hit our home. April, come take my computer away from me!

It all started last Saturday while I was watching Something's Gotta Give on TV. I'd never seen it before and I can't really stand Jack Nicholson, but I like Diane Keaton and Amanda Peet. And yes, of course I know that Jack is going to portray a jerk. That's his job, he's good at it. Boy, oh boy, is he good at it. If you've seen this movie you will know that there is a scene, after Jack and Diane get together, where he leaves her. He's not breaking up with her, in fact he's just saying goodnight, but he's breaking her heart. It was gut wrenching to watch. Every single pleading look that Diane gave him was just overlooked by him. Why? Because all men are jerks. That's just really the only explanation I can come up with. And she was SOOOOOOOO convincing! I swear I should teach a class to men on how to read women and give them what they need and want. I'd use this movie as homework.

Then Bill has me watching West Wing reruns. I said to Bill, at least half a dozen times inside of 2 episodes, "men are jerks!" By the last time he retorted with, "Hey, watch it! I'm a man." Yes, yes dear. You are a man. And no, you're not a jerk. I think there must be some sort of husband clause that exempts him from being a jerk in my book. ANYWAY, we're watching a scene and there is a conversation between Josh and Amy where he is breaking a date with her. It's fine, no big deal, she takes it with ease. She makes a little joke, and he goes off on her like an idiot! We actually rewound the DVD so I could show him the exact point in which Josh turned into a jerk. Bill knew, but he didn't catch it the first time. See, men are just not quick enough to pick up on these cues.

So tonight at dinner Bill said something dumb. Like, really dumb and obnoxious that nobody would take seriously. I didn't but I said, "You're a jerk!... do you know why?" He said, "because I'm a guy?" Yes, he's catching on. "And what are guys?"


wait for it...


Tasha says...


"All guys are jerks."


I swear, I have never taught her this truth. She's just a very intuitive 5 year old that can apply the associative property or whatever property it is. You know the one, the one that says if A=B and B=C then A=C. It think it's geometry. In fact, I'm opening it up to save a man from jerk-dome. The first man to offer up the term for this "If...then" statement gets 2 get out of jerk jail free cards. Bill you don't get to play.

Tomorrow I'll probably clear things up with the girls. I'll clarify that all men are not jerks, they just do jerky things... or something like that.

SERIOUSLY!!!

How many times must a pregnant person apply deoderant before she stops sweating? Isn't twice before noon enough if I haven't even gone outside?



Seriously.



And does Tasha really have keep putting my shoes up, in the hanging shoe rack in my closet? I keep looking for them in the bottom of my closet and they are not there. Then I search the house, get frustrated and look in the closet again. Then I realize.



Seriously.



Is the kitchen island really the dumping ground for all things in the house? Receipts, coins, printouts, old playdough, old and new batteries that get mixed up so I don't really know which is which, fuzzy produce that probably wasn't fuzzy to begin with but it is now because it got buried under all these other items, cars that don't belong to us, a keyring, a chongo, vitamins, EMPTY cereal boxes, 4 empty cups...



Seriously.

Is it my fault that a fire truck was parked outside the QT that I needed to gas at this afternoon? And was it coincidence that said firetruck was manned by 4 fine lookin' men, 2 in the navy blue short gear, and 2 in fireman pants with hanging suspenders and boots? Is anyone doubting my love for firemen?

Seriously.

Why can my kids get along when I'm gone to the chiropractor, but then fight like cats and dogs when either myself or Bill is home? Bill has a theory that we should leave them alone more often so they know they can get along together and will get used to it. Somehow this theory makes sense, but sounds wrong. Very wrong.

Seriously.

It's my husbands birthday tomorrow. Do I really have to write nice, gushy things about him? We all know how great he is, right? Blah, blah, blah, he's super. 'Nuf said.

Seriously.

Are They Just Snobs?

I like to get recipes off of allrecipes.com, more so than cooks.com. You can put in a list of ingredients and non-ingredients and pick a recipe from there. There seem to be multiple choices for the popular recipes so you will get a I, II, III, IV... version of the same dish. Nice, because then you can pick and choose what will work for you.

But I'm wondering who these people are that comment on the site. Are they food critics? Are they chef's in training? Do they work for Rachel Ray or Emeril? OR, are they just snobs? Women (I've never read a man's comment) who have too much time on their hands to experiment with recipes and criticize others. Geez. Very few comments don't include a suggestion on how to make the dish better, and I don't feel like it is said to be helpful, mostly critical. Sure you added onion, but maybe the author has picky eaters that don't like that texture. I'd imagine that, if I were making a dish that typically has onion in it, I would add it if my family liked it.

Where does this rant come from you ask? Beef Stroganoff. It's Bill's favorite and I wanted to make it for Father's Day. The traditional version that we both grew up on was called "S.O.S" by my father and uncle. They both served in the military and this dish was served often. As a child, I thought SOS stood for "Save Our Ship" but didn't really question why you would name a food that. Yes, I'm a little naive since neither of them were in the navy. Later, I found out it really meant, "SH-- on a Shingle." Yikes! Ground beef with cream of mushroom soup, served on a piece of (inevitably) burnt toast. Not so yum. I thought I could do better so the search began.

I stopped my search at the second recipe I found on allrecipes.com. It fit the bill because it used real beef and could be done in the slow cooker, which I love. The ingredients were in my house, and it had a 4 1/2 star rating. Then I checked out some of the comments. The first 3 people gave it a 5 star rating, but all had 9 changes to the recipe which just about doubled the ingredient list. One of them even said that original recipe would have been 1 star worthy, but with the changes it was fabulous. What the heck? Who are these people? Snobs I tell ya, cooking snobs.

Selling Crap and Washing Cars

Apparently I've not been out on Saturday very often. Either that, or this was the weekend for everyone to sell their crap (AKA: Yard Sales) and have an end of the year car wash. I saw no fewer than 10 yard sale signs and 4 car washes. What was so strange was that 3 of the yard sales were right by where I was going so I could not avoid them and had to look at their crap. Yep, crap, I don't need it. Then, after passing one of the car washes for the 3rd time of the day, I was harassed by the sign guy. I guess the bird poop on the passenger's side window was screaming "I need a car wash!" and since I was clearly not complying they felt it necessary to bug me about it. Nice.