A man with haunting eyes stares at you, his hair writhing, while he ages six years in six minutes.

The plague is making it’s way through our area. Everyone I know has either had it, or is coming down with it.

Our turn came after a friend tried to avoid exposing us, only to have the Bear curl up next to her to read her library books. Sigh. He started coming down with it three days later, just like clockwork. A couple of days later, I started to feel it. So I started dosing up on Airborne and Zicam, the only line of defense for a nursing mama. It has helped a bit – I haven’t begged for death yet. But I sure do miss psudoephedrine, which is off limits.

Want to know the downside to having unusually healthy kidlets? Expired medicine. Because when they finally do get sick, every medication you own will have expired six months ago, forcing you to drag your tired and sick self over to the pharmacy so you can act like a felon in order to get your kid the good stuff. (That whateveritis HCI stuff is absolutely worthless.)

Yesterday the baby started to come down with it. I hate hate hate when they get their first cold. It always feels like a battle with tuberculosis or something. What seems trifling for me, and annoying in a three year old, seems like a life-or-death battle in an infant. It just terrifies me to hear all that slurping and snorting coming from someone so small. And I can’t do anything about it but nurse more and wield the nose-sucking bulb.

Of course, this would be the week that Mr. MG is away at school. Because, if everyone – including me – is going to be sick, we must do it when I’m the only adult on duty.

Want to know something crazy? The Princess, formerly our PFAPA queen, is fine and dandy. Once again, her inhuman immunities win the day. (Which is why the fever spikes so got our attention. She really is abnormally healthy.) She’s been tripping along tra-la-la, happy as can be and having a dandy time not producing buckets of mucus each hour.

Fine. Next trip to the drug store, she’s driving.

A meme over at Quiet Life – the A-B-C’s of homemaking…

(I can’t imagine a nicer house to be in than Donna’s. I bet it is peaceful and smells of cinnamon.)

Aprons – Y/N? If Y, what does your favorite look like?
I used to never wear one, then my mom-in-law got me a gorgeous blue and yellow print one. Then I found out it saved me a ton of laundry when I remembered to wear it. I manage about 50% of the time.

Baking – Favorite thing to bake.
Cookies. Oh, how I love them so!

Clothesline – Y/N?
There’s a retractable one in the garage – it’s great for hanging out swimsuits.

Donuts – Have you ever made them?
No, but I’ve thought about it.

Every day – One homemaking thing you do every day
Wash the dishes. I hate waking up to a dirty sink.

Freezer – Do you have a separate deep freeze?
Yea, verily. I am a food hoarder, and this gives me extra storage space. An extra freezer = more ice cream!

Garbage Disposal – Y/N?
Yes, although I probably should compost more. I would, if it weren’t such a rat attractor.

Handbook – What is your favorite homemaking resource?
I like Home Comforts when I have a question.

Ironing – Love it or hate it? Or hate it but love the results?
I wouldn’t even own an iron if Mr. MG didn’t need to iron his uniforms. Anything I iron ends up with more wrinkles – which is why I use the dryer instead.

Junk drawer – Y/N? Where is it?
In my desk. (Heck, my desk is the junk drawer!) I also hide my candy from the children there.

Kitchen – Color and decorating scheme
Maroon with oak cabinets. I plan to paint the walls light green when Moo is old enough to occupy herself.

Love – What is your favorite part of homemaking?
I love to cook. Love, love, love it.

Mop – Y/N?
Nope. Swiffer.

Nylons – Wash by hand or in the washing machine?
I throw my tights in the washer, in a mesh bag. Nylons are instruments from hell.

Oven – Do you use the window or open the oven to check?
Both. I look through the window, then open the door for a second opinion. I have no idea why.

Pizza – What do you put on yours?
Spanish roasted tomatoes, artichoke hearts, roasted red peppers, and hot Greek pepperocini

Quiet – What do you do during the day when you get a quiet moment?
Blog, read the Sonlight forums, and eat candy.

Recipe card box – Y/N? What does it look like?
I use a 3-ring binder and computer print outs

Style of house – What style is your house?
Hmmm, I’m not sure. 70’s suburb-style, but not split level.

Tablecloths and napkins – Y/N?
Those just make more laundry. Paper napkins when needed.

Under the kitchen sink – Organized or toxic wasteland?
Organized. I keep the toxic wasteland in the laundry room.

Vacuum – How many times per week?
Whenever it comes up on the Princess’ chore list. I don’t usually do the vacuuming anymore.

Wash – How many loads of laundry do you do per week?
2-3. Things have picked up a bit with the baby here and Mr. MG home.

X’s – Do you keep a daily list of things to do that you cross off?
I wish I could remember to keep a list. Perhaps that could be the first item on the list…

Yard – Y/N? Who does what?
I actually like to mow and do yard work. But Mr. MG gets the unfair load of it these days.

Zzz’s – What is your last homemaking task for the day before going to bed?
I neaten the living room before heading upstairs. It makes the next day start better.

Thanks, Donna!

…under an impossibly long call number.

The Card Catalog Generator – with a tip o’ the Swiffer to Thicket Dweller.

AirTran Backs Decision to Boot Family From Plane After Toddler’s Tantrum

So, after making the plane late by 15 minutes already because their bratty three year old is pitching a fit, crawling under the seats, hitting her parents, and refusing to buckle in, the crew finally asked the family to kindly get the blankety-blank off their plane. I imagine the remaining passengers let out a gusty sigh of relief once the child and her excuse for parents were gone. At least hey wouldn’t be trapped in the air with this banshee for hours on end.

The airline refunded the family’s tickets and offered round-trip airfare to anywhere the airline goes for the inconvenience. The family’s inconvenience. Great jumping jackalopes, what is the world coming to?

The father said his family would never fly AirTran again.

What is the deal with these people?! Yes, we all have bad parenting days. And heaven knows a three year old can go off like a bunker buster at any time – especially when there is travel involved and you’ve got somewhere to be. But to blame the airline and get huffy because no one wants to live with your inability to redirect your child? Sheesh.

I have a love affair with food. Yes, I know – lots of people really enjoy eating. Plenty of folks have a good time cooking and having a nosh. But I love food. I thank God every single day for the fact that he made food delicious, and not just for routine physical nourishment.

I feast when I’m happy. I snack when I’m sad or lonely. I graze my way through novels. I ponder food, love to appreciate it’s beauty, linger over the smells and textures. Sometimes I’ll be contemplating my next meal as I’m finishing the one in front of me. (No wonder morning sickness just about kills me.) I see the world through cheese-colored glasses.

And it’s such a beautiful relationship! All that adoration is returned back to me every time I eat and consume what I love. Me and food – we’re good together!

Hmmm…you see the problem, right?

I know it’s pretty unhealthy to put that much emotional stock into eating. But can something that feels so good be so wrong? Well. Maybe a little bitty bit. Because, instead of being a healthy, lively relationship, it’s turning into the monster that’s grabbing at my heels and slowing me down. I got down to my prepregnancy weight two weeks postpartum, and now the scale is slowly but surely creeping up again. Ack!

So now I have to run away from the monster. That delicious, cookie-covered, french fry-wielding, chevre-slathering monster. (Pausing to wipe a little drool off of the keyboard.)

That’ll be him – trying to catch me on the treadmill.

An example of a totally frivolous, absolutely wonderful use of technology: the Africam! (After you click the link, look to the sidebar and click on “Nkorho Stream.”) A live web cam at a watering hole in South Africa. Amazing! And don’t forget to have your speakers on.

The other day I logged on, and it was 2:30 am there. At the watering hole were about four lions, drinking and resting and generally lion around. (Oh! That was almost painful!) There is something very right with the world when I can sit here at my desk in the afternoon and watch lions panting in the South African night heat, breath for breath. The occasional bug flies by. The grass sways in the breeze. And I’m in out of the chilly, wet Pac Northwest winter witnessing it.

It’s not as amazing to those who have lived with technology’s leaps and bounds all their lives. I called the Princess over to see the lions and explained that all of this was real! And happening right now! Woo-hoo! Her response: “Neat, mom. Huh. Can I go, now?”

I remember very clearly touching a real computer for the first time. I was in fifth grade, and it was an Apple with the big green letters and numbers on the screen. I could hardly believe they would lets kids play with it. And from there, we’ve come to here – where I can be warm and safe as I hang out with the big cats halfway around the world.

I kid you not.

They even have games.

Wow!

• You have a matress detector with a very sensitive pressure switch built into each cheek. I know this is true because you can be floppy tired – we’re talking major milk coma, here – and yet, when I lay you down next to me and try to get some much deserved sleep, you wake up and holler like I’ve just insulted your ancestory.
• I should have paid more attention to the pictures of tribal women in National Geographic, so I could be fully informed as to what childbearing was going to do with my bod. Then again, maybe not. What the pictures (and my mirror) don’t show are all the payoffs for the bagging and sagging. Your open-mouthed grin has already paid for much of the treadmill time to come.
• Because of the all-night feeding sessions, I am a walking authority on the deaths of Saddam Hussein, Gerald Ford, and James Brown. But they all blur together in a very disturbing way.
• You holler louder than any baby I have ever known. And it’s not just my imagination – you even shocked the pediatrician’s nurse with your wailings. And since you scream whenever you are naked, being changed for a diaper, riding in your car seat, or just put down for more than 30 seconds, your lungs get a lot of practice. Because of your earsplitting roaring…
• I can do anything one-handed while nursing. I can floss while you eat. It may seem inconvenient to the uninitiated, but as long as your mouth is full of milk you aren’t wailing. Totally worth it to me.