I pulled myself out of bed this morning around 4 am, and stumbled to the kitchen, scrubbing at my eyes and not wanting to wake the kids. Since giving myself that raging sinus infection, I've been leery to use my stupid breathing mask thing. As a result, I've been suffering through some of the weirdest dreams ever.

I dreamed that I was being forced to adopt seven kittens and while I was stressed about the logistics, the thing that woke me in a cold sweat was the dream-kids fighting over what to name them.

I dreamed that my entire extended family except me had been turned into zombies, and I was stressed about the logistics, but the thing that shot me awake with a pounding heart was the fact that I was (in my dream) behind on emails for work.

I also dreamed I had a tail, and my tail had a rash. I woke up itching. It was blue and spiked. The tail, not the rash.

The weather has been chilly, but today enough sun broke through that I felt justified in taking the kids to the pool for an hour. They jumped right into the cold water, while I basked in the sun like a lizard, trying to absorb some warmth.

Back at home, I noticed that while my legs remain ghostly white, my face has now taken on a ruddy tone, perfect for all those BlogHer photo opportunities.

That reminds me of another weird dream. I was being held against my will in some sort of prison camp, and I woke up because I couldn't remember all the words to a song I was trying to sing in the dream. I woke up totally irate, but couldn't remember what song it was.

Yeah, time to brave the mask again, methinks.

My oldest has been obsessed with her upcoming start of middle school. She's so ready for this show to get on the road. She wants to shop for school supplies right this minute, despite the fact that we still have a ton of supplies, and we don't know what the school recommends or requires. She has also spent quite a few days planning possible outfits, all of which look like something out of a Japanese anime. I'm not sure how to break it to her that she'll be wearing jeans and tees, not thigh-high platform boots and cat ears, but maybe the lack of these items being available in the mall will resign her to a more 6th grade friendly look.

My son hasn't grown, and since it is summer and I can scarcely keep a shirt on him, most of the summer tees and jeans I bought him at the end of the school year still fit perfectly and look like they are new. Or that faux-aged look that we pay good money for.

Oh my GOD. I just aged 30 years by saying that.

He's never shown any inclination to follow a certain style. He likes striped shirts the best, but I think that is from all the Blue's Clues we watched back in the day. He just wants to be comfortable. And I can work with that.

My youngest is reaping the benefits of having an older sister and has a ton of hand-me-downs she's just now growing into. I'm still going to get her a new outfit or two to start school. It's not a need, but I want to do it, so she'll feel special and so the back to school photos will be cute. Really, it is about the photos.

Every year, we've hauled the kids out into the front yard and posed them under the tree in their new outfits, lunchboxes and backpacks in hand. But this year, my oldest starts her new school the day after the littles go to their first day. I'm left with a dilemma - should I dress her up in her new outfit and make her pose with the kiddies? Or do I do a shot of her first day separately?

Yes, I'm thinking about this three-weeks early. My time would be better spent obsessing about what to wear to BlogHer. But the truth is I'm going to wear a handful of dresses and maybe some shoes. No, definitely some shoes. And I'll probably do some panic shopping on Saturday. Do I need to do this? No. I have a ton of stuff to wear in my closet. Will I do it anyway? Yes.

I went into the BlogHer offices last week for a visit, and half the staff was discussing how they had scheduled hair and nail appointments for the week before the conference. I am overdue, and luckily was able to con my stylist into working me in this Saturday. Now, I too will prance into the conference like a My Little Pony named Dazzleberry, gray roots banished.

My husband will tell you this hair baloney is not a necessity, but my gray roots are probably going to be the next thing that jolts me awake from a dream about being shipwrecked or something.

That's sort of my pattern this year - yeah yeah, major bad things are going on in the world but my kids have cabin fever and THAT is what is jolting me awake.

You can call me the the queen of minutia. Or Dazzleberry. I'll answer to that, too.

Posted by Jenny at 6:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

We've just returned from our annual camping trip to the coast. As usual, the sky was pretty much socked in with fog the entire time, which gave us an excuse to huddle around the fire.

Where there's fire... there's smoke. Wait. I did that backwards. Anyhoo.

The kids wanted to be right up on top of the firepit, but the smoke kept stinging their eyes. I give you their solution:

Posted by Jenny at 8:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

If you ask my kids, and I don't recommend it, but if you ask them how summer has been, they will tell you it has been pretty boring.

Nothing chaps my hide more than kids who believe that doing whatever they fancy most of the time is boring. Imagination. Use it. Am I right?

With the BlogHer conference approaching quickly, work has been crazy busy for me for the last couple of weeks. Those days where I could work poolside while the kids splashed and played have temporarily evaporated along with our summery weather. It's been overcast and windy this last little bit, not exactly swimming weather.

My oldest has been missing her friends over the summer - and one friend in particular. They both participate on an online drawing site and talk on the phone, but they haven't really seen each other.

This last Saturday, my daughter announced that we would be going to the park at 10am, and her friend would be meeting us there with her mom. And so, that's what we did.

I need to back up a bit. Before we went to the park, I had to run to the pharmacy to pick up my medicine - an ordeal that totally needs a whole blog post of its own. The van, although I had cleaned it out just the week before, had a sickly fruity fermenty rotty smell going on, and I couldn't figure out where it was coming from... until I looked in the trunk and saw that the watermelon I had bought two days before and apparently not taken into the house with the rest of the groceries for some reason had developed a crack and leaked juice all over the floor of the trunk.

OH MY GAAAAAAAAH that smelled bad. I sponged and soaked and sponged and toweled and sponged and sprayed with carpet cleaner and scrubbed and toweled some more. And it was GRODY.

And the net result of all that effort was that the van reeked for several days, of both nasty rotting fruit and chemicals.

Okay, so back to the park. We hung out playing and letting the big girl catch up on a whole summer's worth of whatever they talk about. I walked some laps around the park with her friend's mom, and got some sun on my face. Red noses are what's in this year. Don't let anyone try to tell you differently.

After the park, we piled back into the stankmobile and went out for a nice lunch and ran some errands. Once we were back at home, we relaxed for a bit, but then I got really restless and demanded that we get out of the house.

We weighed our options, and decided on miniature golf. Even better, we decided on Anything Goes mini golf, so we didn't have any disagreements or drama.

I did mean Anything Goes, you know. My husband tried to teach them the right way, he really did.

Basically, this resulted in my son running two holes ahead, my oldest smirking as she putted and my youngest celebrating like she just won the masters after every hole, whether or not she put the ball in the cup using her hands instead of the club.

After mini-golf, we headed into the arcade, and the kids got skooled in pinball by their father, who apparently is quite good at it.

Then we headed off for In N Out burger at 9:30 pm. On the way home, drowsy in the backseat, the kids all agreed - this was a very good day.

Posted by Jenny at 8:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

You! Yes, you. Keep it down. I know you are several states away. Look, my head is actually increasing in size with every inhalation, and shrinking again every single time I exhale. I don't need YOU breathing away over there.

I am being ridiculous? I did this to myself, so, yeah. I know. And still... My head feels like someone has a billows in one ears and is randomly inflating my face.

I thought I was okay with the stupid CPAP machine. I mean, they warned me not to try to use it if I had a cold, But It was allergies. I took some decongestant before bed, and I figured it would be fine.

And no. Now I have sinuses plugged but good, my face feels like it has been kicked in by a horse and my ears are stuffy.

Whatever, I guess you can breathe if you do it quietly.

Posted by Jenny at 9:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Over the long holiday weekend, we spent a lot of time outdoors. Us, plus outdoors, equals allergies.

We had a great barbecue over at my parents' house on July 3rd, and on the way home, we were all feeling a little itchy, scratchy and stuffy. We took some allergies meds, we did. I swear. Yet a few hours into the party, we were all starting to feel the effects of my parents' yard blooming and the breeze blowing.

On the way home, we drove through the twilight, eyes tearing and hearts noses filling.

Before heading to the party, I had cleaned out the van, tossing all the floating packages of tissues into the trunk. This was not helpful at all when my husband's allergies triggered his sinuses to GO! GO! GO!

Desperate for a tissue, and on a road with no shoulder to pull off on, he started making bleating noises and flapping his hands in the general vicinity of his face. I clutched the wheel and told him to hold that thought.

The bleating and flapping continued, and turned into a high-pitched whine. The man needed to blow his nose something fierce.

Horrors - I could see a sneeze building. My windshield was about to get plastered with snot. I cursed the lack of ejector seats and barrelled on, snarling "don't you daaaaaaare."

A few more turns and I was able to pull into the parking lot of a convenience store. I leaped out of the driver's seat, heading for the trunk to get the kleenex. The husband simultaneously leaped out of the passenger side door, took two steps and unleashed an unholy sneeze that emptied both nostrils onto the pavement and left him lurching around like he had been hit by a stun gun.

The world froze for a moment, and the husband, the clerk behind the store counter, my kids, the guy who was walking into the store to buy some brews and I all contemplated the results of my husband's sneeze. The kids started up with a bunch of "eeeew grosssss" and I slapped a box of tissue into my husband's chest. He was still semi-crouched with his hands on his knees, recovering from The Sneeze That Shook Down The Town And Left Craters In the Pavement. He gingerly wiped his nose and handed me back the box.

Then he bought a soda from the store. I mean, that's the least we could do, right?

Two days later, replaying the scene in my head, I started giggling, picturing it from the perspective of an innocent bystander. It was like a superpower - where the fledgling superperson is still learning how to control the toxic goo or lazerbeam eyes or whatever.

The only thing that would make it better would be if he had said "Sorry about that, man" and saluted the clerk.

Posted by Jenny at 8:32 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

I slept in until 8:30 this morning, after staying up late last night watching a movie. I got up, took my stupid thyroid medicine, and smiled at the kids popping their sleep-tossed heads out into the hall on my way back to bed. I didn't want to be up yet.

I crawled back under the covers and dropped into a weird twilight sleep. I could hear the kids up and about. I was aware that my husband was in and out of the room, and yet I was having the weirdest, most vivid dreams.

I finally emerged, feeling more tired, about an hour later. My stupid allergies have been making it hard, if not impossible, to use my stupid breathing machine nose thing at night, and my stupid sleep apnea is catching up with me again. This bone-weary fatigue will go away if I can just get a few good night's worth of sleep.

It has been a beautiful June. My sister's final surgery went off without a hitch on Friday, and although it was a very long day, I didn't end up having to sleep at the hospital. (Not that I would have minded, but still.)

We've got another 7 weeks of summer before the school rigmarole starts up again. How can we be almost halfway through?

It's a gorgeous day outside, and while my husband and son just left to attend the end of season baseball team party, I'm thinking of taking the girls to the pool. I might actually get into my suit for the first time this year and loll about in the water instead of hiding in the shade, watching the kids boss each other around.

I'm in a weird space, emotionally, about my physically appearance. A year ago, I was more apt to say "eh, screw it" but this year, I'm very conscious of how misshapen my face is from the extra weight I'm carrying. I'm more annoyed by the double, sometimes triple chins that appear, and I'm sick to death of looking like I'm 4 months pregnant. I'm eating well, but always, always, the piece of the puzzle that I need is exercise. A lot of it. Consistent. And I'm not doing it.

I can point to my thyroid woes. I can point to my sleep apnea, both culprits in my weight retention. But the fact is that my weights are gathering cobwebs, and my sneakers haven't been laced on my feet in more than a month. It is becoming crystal clear to me that I'm never going to feel like exercising, at least not right now. I'm never going to want to make time for it.

I've had lots of offers from friends and family to be my workout buddy (something I abhor. I don't like to chat while I'm working out, and I tend to drop into a very meditative state while I'm walking/jogging or lifting weights.) I know once I establish a pattern of about a week solid of daily exercise, the endorphins will keep me at it. So far? I've managed a day here and a day there, but there's always some excuse.

I'm going to hit post on this entry, and then I'm putting on my swimsuit - and rather than lolling about, I'm going to do some pool running, which looks about as stupid as it sounds. I don't want to, not really. But I have to start somewhere.

No one is going to do this for me.

Posted by Jenny at 12:07 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Posted by Jenny at 5:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)