More Flaws In My Character

See the little Facebook thingy on my sidebar? If you're a Facebook member, would you please join my network on there? I only need one more member before they actually start keeping stats for me! You don't have to do anything besides join the Network. I promise.

So things are slowly improving here at the Casa De Sick People. Ironflower and Lovebug are now completely over their pneumonia/ear infection combos. ChunkyMonkey is still fighting the good fight against sinus yuckiness, but he is improving daily. I think if the poor little guy could blow his nose, or spit things out, he would be well by now. Hot Guy's stomach virus seems to be fading. And I have become an expert wound cleaner.

Yes, folks, I still have an open wound. Apparently these things take a long time to heal from the inside out. And last week I got the okay from the doctor to NOT have the home care nurse come every day to take care of it for me. It's not that the nurses weren't super sweet, but scheduling a time EVERY day that they could come while the kids could be otherwise occupied - what a pain. Plus I realized that it was time for me to face the grossness myself, so that it could be cleaned more often.

Yesterday when I went to the doctor I was even praised for how clean my wound was. And how it's healing so well. In fact, it's SO clean now that next week when I go to have it checked? She's going to STITCH IT CLOSED.

I almost hugged her when she told me. Because while I face the grossness twice a day, every day, I am now sure that I would never, ever make it as a nurse. Or a doctor. Or a medical assistant. Or a medical transcriptionist. Anyway, I have nightmares about how it feels (I have decided to spare you all any more details than that. Thank me.). Also, now that it's healing it's starting to hurt. In short, THIS SUCKS.

I just long to be normal again. I want to exercise, not just walk. I would like not to ooze. I would like to stop telling my children to not touch my stomach. And I do realize that there are people going through so much worse than I am. In fact, I feel guilty for being so whiny about this when so many have it so much worse. But then I have to go change my gauze and suddenly I don't care.

The Archives Meme

I borrowed this meme from Anglophile Football Fanatic. And if you would like to borrow it from me, please feel free. It's a cool idea, especially if you have great old posts that you wrote before anyone was reading your blog. You need to put up links to five posts from your archives, the catch being that they have to follow certain themes.

Link 1 must be about family. On Motherhood
Link 2 must be about friends. (not old, but I like it) With The Girls
Link 3 must be about yourself, who you are… what you’re all about. About Me
Link 4 must be about something you love. A Hallmark Card and the Superbowl Too (sure, I could have put my children or Hubby here, but how original would that be?)
Link 5 can be anything you choose. Why I'm Not A Teacher Anymore, part 1

It All Makes Sense Now. . .

Hubby made dinner tonight. Not a surprise, as Hubby is the cook in the family. The surprise tonight was that dinner wasn't very good. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. If I don't have to attempt to cook (thus protecting myself from injury and the children from salmonella), I'm happy. As dinner concluded, Hubby said, "Damn, I hate working so hard on something that doesn't turn out." I consoled him sweetly (no, I did, honest) while realizing. . .

THAT'S WHY I HATE COOKING.

When I cook, it almost never turns out. For me, cooking is like gambling. I spend all this time and money AND I NEVER WIN.

The only time I ever enjoyed gambling was when I played with someone else's money. My friend and I met these guys and because we were just so fascinating (or maybe they were just so drunk, who knows?) they gave us money to shoot craps. For someone whose previous gambling splurges included dollar slot machines and using gummy bears with my friends, the lure of the craps table. . .for free. . .was great. But I'd never have fun wasting my own money like that. Especially since I didn't win once (nor have I ever won on the slot machines OR playing poker with my friends). The people I know who enjoy gambling (even though they actually do it very rarely) win $1,000 on a boring Monday night. It turns out for them. . .like a good meal.

The only time I enjoyed cooking was when . . .okay, I've never enjoyed cooking. Even when I've made edible food, it's never the kind of food that makes you feel like you've won 1,000 or even 10 dollars.

You know what else I hate? Softball. Why? BECAUSE I NEVER HIT THE BALL (no, really, I have depth perception issues and I have never, ever, successfully hit a ball with a bat).

Maybe I didn't try hard enough during softball in gym class. Maybe I shouldn't have needed to go rest (and read) in the nurse's office every Thursday. Maybe I should spend more time with cookbooks and Rachel Ray. Maybe I should try gambling again. Maybe if I just gave all these things one more chance I would discover the joy that other family members get from them. . .

Nah, f*** that.