The fun continues

The boiler melted – I don’t know what part it was and frankly, I don’t care – and we have no heat. Well, TCBIM has no heat. I am at my mother’s. Oy. He is at the house, replacing the boiler. Remember the boiler? It sat in my driveway for several months and finally got moved into the cellar, where it’s sat for more months.

Being of the “Why do now what you can wait until it explodes to do later” school, TCBIM never worked on said boiler. So, old boiler shit the bed and it’s roughly 19 degrees Farenheit outside during the day and colder than a witch’s tit inside my house.

It’s been ok-ish staying here, although the sleeping arrangements are tight, to say the least. One toddler, one baby and one grown up in a bedroom. A very tiny bedroom. The bed creaks, which wakes Boo. The Bug cries, which wakes Boo. I have a cough (and a sinus infection), which wakes Boo. You get the idea. Everyone is suffering from severe sleep deprivation. It’s loads of fun.

I can’t believe I’m blogging from my mother’s. If she finds this blog, I’m not going to be happy.

And Kerri, I hope I can get my articles to you on time. The computer is, of course, in the room where we’re sleeping, so it’s difficult to get time on here. I’ll do my best.

Heath insurance woe

TCBIM just called to tell me that his company is changing health insurance, effective Jan 1. What the fuck? Five fucking days notice? And guess who’s not covered? O’s pediatrician AND her diabetes team at Joslin. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Fuck.

I do NOT want to go to Bay State. I’ve heard horror stories.

I hate health insurance. Hate. It.

O is going to be crushed by this. I may have to go get a full time job just to get some decent health insurance.

I am a lemming

So, I put that Technorati thing over there in my sidebar. What does it do? Is it like Bloglines? I’m confused.

No good drugs yet. I have an appointment tomorrow morning. I’m hoping to get some then. Still coughing up a lung. Both of ’em, sometimes. It really sucks.

I got a baking cookbook from my sister’s girlfriend. It’s by the pastry chef at Spago. Oh. My. Gawd. The stuff looks delicious, but oh, so complicated. Still. I may have to attempt some of these things. There’s a recipe for Banana Chocolate Beignets that sounds delicious. I’ve never been much of a baker – there’s too much measuring and I’m more of a toss some of this and add a dash of that kind of cook. Baking is chemistry and I was never all that good at chemistry. But I’m willing to give it a try. I have this friend, T, who works at this fancy schmancy foodie shop in Cambridge. When he and I get together, we cook. We plan out the menu weeks in advance and we don’t usually do dessert, but I think the next time he comes out here, we’ll attempt it.

Between this cookbook and the Les Halles one, I am one happy little girl, let me tell you. I love reading a good cookbook. It makes me tingle all over and want to go do, make something, anything. Today, I satisfied that urge with some homemade macaroni and cheese. Yummmmm…. So good.

Three a.m. blogging

Just call me Typhoid Mary. Tuburculosis Tessie. Chronic Cough Cathy. I’m fucking miserable, which is why I’m up at this ridiculour hour instead of sleeping the sleep of the just and fucking tired. Every time I put my head on the pillow, I hack up a lung. I’ve already woken up the baby three times and while she’s always happy to have a little nosh, my boobs can’t take too much of that.

So here I am. Now what? Play solitaire. Think about shit. Nothing is going on that needs to be hashed out, which is nice. Unusual, but nice. I can’t find anything to complain about. Again, unusual, but nice.

O’s untethered right now and I’m not liking it. I don’t think she checks her blood sugars as often when she goes untethered. And I know I’ve been forgetting to log. Gotta start doing that again. She has an appointment at Joslin at the end of the month and I want to take along a nice stack of log sheets this time. Last time, I had a nice stack and left them sitting on the kitchen table.

Boo figured out how to climb out of her crib today. Fantastic. Guess it’s time to get her to sleep in the toddler bed. She’s getting so big.

My father and his wife gave the Bug some totally inappropriate toys. The stepmonster is a teacher and gets freebie books from school. That’s all fine and good, give them as gifts, but jeez, do you think you could maybe NOT give the not-even-four-month-old a book that has MAGNETS in it? They also gave her a doll with itty bitty shoes and hair bows and a brush. And a Leap Frog barn thing. Stuff that is SO beyond her, it’s ridiculous. Most of the stuff is even too old for the Boo, never mind a tiny baby. I was confused when I opened the gifts. It’s like the thought she was four years old instead of four months. Weird stuff, man.

Oh, great. In addition to the incessant coughing, I’ve added non-stop sneezing to the mix. I’m SO calling the doctor and getting the good drugs tomorrow. Fuck this for a game of soldiers.

Happy Christmas

Twelve bags of trash
Eleven electronic toys
Ten packs of batteries
Nine nervous breakdowns
Eight boxes of Kleenex
Seven cups of tea
Six lost receipts
Five cozy fleece
Four fighting children
Three tissue sneezes
Two aching boobs
And a rapidly escalating fever.

Dear Santa,
Next year, I don’t want mastitis for Christmas. I’d rather get a mop.
Thank you,
Julia

I hope everyone had a healthy, happy Christmas!

Budding Fashionista

Adorable, no? (Well, minus the scary red eye thing – I still can’t get those to go away.) She let me put the little pony tail holders in her hair, even looked at herself in the mirror and said “Pretty, mama!” Her hair is at that stage where it’s all over the plac and she rather resembles that infamous Nick Nolte* mug shot. I was thrilled that she let me do this because she generally hates this sort of thing.

It didn’t last five minutes, though. She’d pulled them out and replaced them with this. No, it’s not a sunbonnet and I’m not raising a little Laura Ingalls Wilder. Any guesses as to what it is? G’wan. Take a guess.

* Told you. Minus the whole haggard, drunk, old guy thing, they’re identical. Identical, I tell ya.

Christmas Song Meme

A bunch of people have tagged me for this meme, so I guess I’d better get off my butt and do it.

My five favourite Christmas songs:

1. Fairytale Of New York – The Pogues
2. Peanuts Theme (Linus & Lucy) – Vince Guaraldi
3. A Consort Of Choral Christmas Carols – PDQ Bach
4. You’re A Mean One, Mr. Grinch – Thurl Ravenscroft
5. Marvellous Toy – Tom Paxton

Best Christmas Song Ever.

Is anyone else surprised that Shane McGowan isn’t dead yet?

Why I like my mother-in-law

Two posts! In one day! And me all sick and shit. See how much I love you guys?

This is why I like my mother-in-law. She gave me this for Christmas. It arrived today.

I love Anthony Bourdain – seriously, as in if he knocked at my door, TCBIM would be sleeping in the car. If you don’t have this cookbook yet, go buy it. The introduction is hysterically funny and it’s the only time I’ve ever, ever seen the words “sweet fuck all” between the covers of a cooking tome.

SIck

• I have such a cold. And so many blogs to read. And so little energy or inclination to do anything. It sucks.

• I finally put up the tree. It took me three hours to get the thing up and get the lights on. I was two strands from being done. Plugged the next string of lights into the ones already on the tree and blew the fuses in three strands. Three strands that I had to hunt for. I fucking HATE putting lights on the tree. Next year, I am buying a pre-lit tree. Just call me Scrooge.

• My apostrophe key is bringing up a Find navigation bar on the bottom of this page. I have no idea why, but it is pissing me off. Damed computers.

• I cut off most of my hair today. Well, not me, I paid a hairdresser to do it, but it is much shorter now. It was almost to my waist, now it is just below my shoulders.

• The company TCBIM works for is having their Christmas party on Thursday. Who has a Christmas party on a Thursday?? I bought some adorable peep toe black satin pumps to wear with my red Chinese tunic – the one I wore when TCBIM and I got married. With my nice new haircut and my pretty new pumps, I may actually look like a person, rather than just a mum. That will be a novelty.

All I want for Christmas….

Kerri already posted this on her site, but I’m putting it up, too. I can’t say I’ve completely given up hope that there will be a cure some day, but I have always doubted that I’d see one in my lifetime. This, for some reason, has given me a glimmer of hope. Please, oh please, oh please, don’t let it be misplaced.

Now, do I talk to O about this or not? I just don’t know….