health care reform

Enjoy this awkward text between my BIL Howard and another medical professional.

I know I did.

thanks, auto spell check.

uncle.

You win, Influenza B.  We give up.  We're broken down.


My poor Jax is on his 7th day of misery.  Everyone but McFlorence Nightengale has it. I'm sensing that he's getting a little weary of managing the entire household and attending to us whiny sickies.  We're a lot of work.


Thanks to the friends who have brought in meals (thx Dalee and Tiff/Janie) and thanks to friends who have offered to bring me everything from magazines to Vitamin D capsules to Sonic Cherry Limeades. So kind.  Honestly.

Anybody who will kindly shoot me in the upper-left flank with a big-game tranquilizer gun will receive some free barf bags [featured below]. 

So very miserable am I. 


Tamiflu?  Give me a break.  They may as well give me a bag of Skittles and tell me to take two and see if they help.  Not working.

[ergonomically designed vomit bags {pilfered from ER sometime in '09} modeled by my ellison. I actually gave some to friends for christmas this year--they'll thank me later]

almost ready

My Caroline (now in the refusing-to-be-photographed-stage) is getting to be quite the crafty little bugger.  Probably gets it from that krafty mother of hers...
[push "snickering under breath" button on computer]

Conversely, my Charlotte just prefers to tape and tape and tape and tape and tape and tape and tape and tape and tape. And tape.

 My girls looking through the sooper-cool National Geographic photography coffee table book that I got for Christmas from Marco. (POLO!) 
Seriously stunning photos.

They paused extra long to gawk at the photos of the African women in Namibia/Gambia/Mozambique with their bubs on display.
Ellison immediately dubbed the photos "inapwopwiate".
Yet still she gawked on.

Charlotte picked her nose a little.

And finally, Jackson's perfect valentine sentiment.

sure did have fun

Unfortch, it was only for one night, instead of our originally planned TWO nights.

You see, I had to have my entire big toenail cruelly yet mercifully yanked by my pod[ihateyou]atrist.

Which rendered me essentially lame.

It hurt like stink.

But--you know me--I suffered through the weekend at a five star resort with aplomb and grace.  We met our friends the Hoffmans for dinner here for some serious French food.