Dear Mom,

I miss you everyday, but today I miss you an extra scoop.

I love you.

Same Old

I've been remiss on the updates, but they seem to repeat themselves, so you can simply refer to previous posts to see what is going on:

1) Hurricane
2) Amy sick
3) Writing/working on book.

Gosh, I haven't even been reading much to report on, either. I really wish I had more variety at the moment to constitute a fun post, but I simply don't.

Perhaps by the end of the week there will be a plethora of interesting material.


Let's hope for all our sakes.

"The strongest hurricane on record"

Back from Disney, the stomach flu and storm preparations. How about you?

While in the happiest place on earth, was less than for many of us. It started with Matthew's digestive system and quickly spread to everyone else. I cannot remember ever being so sick. I prayed for death and its sweet release from expectoration hell. Amy, of course, got it the worst, and her 24 hour stint is now going on Day 4.

That brings us to today, and Wilma. Another storm; another flurry of preparations and worry.

It's Wednesday, and the storm is not expected to hit until Saturday, so that means that the projected path will change at least 6 dozen times until then. It is the nature of the beast. So the only thing a reasonable mother can do is to prepare for both scenarios: staying and leaving. Both with its own set of pros and cons.

No decisions until at least tomorrow, my friends.

Party

I think my hangover has a hangover.

We went to a big glitzy event last night. All of the players and playahs were there. My recollections:

Free draft beer. Gambling. Free beer. Hockey goalie dealing blackjack. Toasting player with free beer. Spending $600 on a hockeystick toybox. More beer. Stanley Cup. Beer. My favorite hockey player signing said toybox. Beer. Headache. Advil with beer.

We got this beauty in between rounds apparently.

"But that's what I've always called you."

Tears are brimming in my eyes from this kindergartener's request and declaration:

Matthew: When you come into my class, could you not call me "Moo" or "Moose?" Just call me Matthew now.

No.

Why I am Writing This Book

Because on the day when I need to become serious to sit down for hours to write--concentrate and focus on a job that needs to be done that almost makes me feel like a grown up--Amy toddles into the kitchen with a bottle of iridescent purple nail polish (which God only knows what decade she found it in) which she drops on the tile floor and nail polish, glass and my sanity shatter.

I just spent the last 45 minutes scrubbing the grout trying to make it not pink anymore.

I guess at least it matches the kitchen now.

What a difference a week makes

It's been a week now since Amy's sickness and my book news...wow, no wonder I'm tired.

Amy's infection is gone, but I am more than a little surprised how long it took for her to really feel better. Usually, they always bounce back rather quickly after the strong meds, but this one really took its toll. She spent the week resting--not a typical almost 2 year-old activity. Her sleep patterns (the little she had) are completely out of step, which has been tough as well.

Last night, we went to the Lightning pre-season game--our first game in a year and a half, and our first outing in more than a week. We had a great time,(Oh, how I've missed my beloved hockey!) and Amy enjoyed the 2 periods she stayed awake for. Tonight, we'll be going to a friend's house for communal play while the husbands are out, so I suppose we're back into the social swing.

In between, I'll be here at this keyboard, typing away. I am almost done with the editing phase, and am working on some new material to include as well. I hope to get a sneak peek at the illustrations this weekend also. I will be putting a stamp on Ver's letter project, too....

Thanks to everyone for their mad props and their concern for Amy. We appreciate it!