My physiological response to all this beauty is disgusting.

It is so beautiful here. This photo is taken on Queens Road West, less than a block from where we live. I am amazed, daily at the magnificence of the oaks lining the streets in our neighborhood. It is picturesque, to say the least. As for us allergy sufferers, it is almost too bad we can't live in pictures.

With this beauty comes a price. As I sit at the computer typing this, it is literally raining pollen, dogwood petals, and oak flowers out my window. I'm told the pollen counts around here are among the highest in the country, making it one of the worst places for allergies. When "pollen season" arrives, you don't need to be "from here" to know what's happening. A thick, greenish-yellow sheen begins to coat everything. It is messy and annoying.

Every surface outdoors is coated and we all hope for a spring shower to wash some of the mess away. However, that's just the first phase (as far as I can tell). Because now in addition to everything being hazy-yellow, the entire world yard is covered with oak flowers. This is a shot of the driveway this afternoon. The gardener came yesterday evening and had these all blown away.

Now I'm getting to the fun part. Here's a picture of me from Wednesday. {insert hilarious pirate joke} With the help of pollen and my AWFUL allergies, what started as a small eye irritation a few weeks ago, turned into a grotesque chalazion earlier this week (that's something similar to a stye but far more disgusting). I won't even make a link here--but if you'd like to be visually disturbed, I encourage you to google image "chalazion." (Don't say I didn't warn you.) Chalazions have to be removed by an opthamologist. It's a "minor" in-office procedure but it does include a scalpel and it is highly unpleasant. Though, not as unpleasant as say... having a disgusting growth on your eyelid. 

The patch is gone now and all that remains is an awesome shiner which should last only a few days.  That is plenty of time for you to get in your tasteless jokes at my husband's expense. Poor Greg, I think he was more uncomfortable at the girls' school function last night than I was. Cheers to Spring in all her glory, Mateys! 

(Image 1 via Sun-Times)

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My Vicious Cycle (pun intended)

Today I did laundry. Lots of laundry. Loads one through four are folded and put away. Yep. It's awesome; I know.

There's more...

Load five is in the dryer and load six is in the washer. Seriously. It's so cool.

Wait... just listen to this:

Loads seven through ten are sorted and ready for their own turn at "the cleanse." Um-hm. Super cool.

Here's the problem (as I'm sure you've figured out--was coming):

I feel so accomplished and self-congratulatory after a day like today, I reward myself with a "laundry hiatus" that typically lasts about two weeks... Which, as I'm sure you can imagine, results in this same scenario repeating itself... indefinitely.

Not. So. Awesome.

But *cheers* to me anyway [patting myself on the back] for filling our closets and dressers with clean, folded clothes!

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One of "Those" Days

Wow.

Geneva and I had an episode today.

It was public--in a place I visit often and will have to return.

She went ballistic.

I was mortified.

There was hitting...

It was on her part, though I was so close...

Kicking...

Screaming.

I managed to get her to the car (and Piper too).

I called Greg and broke down.

She didn't stop screaming the whole way home.

My adorable husband talked me down from the ledge.

I turned up the radio.

Piper in the house with a snack.

Geneva remained in the car for several more minutes.

I was letting her in on the plan and explaining what was going to happen if she hit, kicked, or pinched me again.

Once we understood each other I took her from the car and put her in bed.

She told me she hated me and started screaming for her lunch.

Two minutes later she fell silent.

Exhausted.

Sleeping.

Two and a half hours later, I had stopped asking myself how I had failed so completely and a fully-rested Geneva emerged from her bedroom.

We survived.

And yes, she is dealing well with her consequences... so far.

She also wrote this song to remind me, I think, that maybe I'm not such a failure at this after all.

If you're concerned you can't understand what she's singing about... stop. She's not singing most of it in English. I'm not sure what language it is.

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