spring fever

(which is, hands down, waaaay better than cat scratch fever. Just so you know.)

So tomorrow, I'll be dropping the girls off with Grammy and Grandpa, and Davey is going backpacking, which means that for a solid 24 hours, I'll be alone. I'm a little giddy.. hell, I'm downright drunk and slaphappy with the notion of doing pretty much whatever I want, with noone to answer to but myself. Unfortunately, this will probably go down about the same as when I knew that I had a chunk of spending cash coming for my birthday, and by the time I actually got my grubby paws on the money, I had it spent 14 different ways in my head, and deciding which way to spend it in reality was quite another matter. I ended up piddling it away and never really accomplishing much of anything. And these 24 hours are so much more precious than cash. I could go shopping (oooooh! the grocery store! the craft store! heck, every craft store in town!) and not have to worry about changing diapers, nap times, feeding times, grumpy kiddos and grabby hands. Not to mention lugging kids from one car seat, stroller, cart, etc to the next. I could go to the park and pass out on a blanket and get a righteous sunburn. I could spend the evening in the bathtub with a bottle of wine and a good book. I could go out with friends and enjoy some grownup girl time. I could stay up ALL NIGHT. Because I WANT to. Not because I've got a sick kiddo to look after. I could sleep in til 8. Wait, scratch that. I do that already :). I could finally get the curtains and cribskirt and throw pillow made for Maezie's room (and the living room, for that matter). I could finally clean out the utility room. I could accomplish any number of cute crafty things I've been wanting to do. I could work on the garden. I could scoop out the chicken coop (which, frankly, really NEEDS to happen). And I'll probably start every single one of these things and finish none of them. Or if I get them done, they wouldn't be done well. I don't think I have ADD, I think I'm just greedy.

Sooooo. Deep breath, slow down. I'm going to try my darndest to enjoy my 24 hours, and maybe even accomplish a few things. At the very least I'm going to get my shopping done, go to the craft store(s), and get me a Starbucks, and savor every wonderful sip, with no darling little distractions. And then I'll probably go home and cry myself to sleep, because seriously, who couldn't miss this?

And this?

and this?!?!

It's gonna be tough. But somehow I'll survive it.

(and right this moment I am thoroughly pissed at my camera, because there's this super cute picture I took yesterday of Punkin playing outside in the flowers, but I can't get ANY of my camera batteries to work so that I can upload it. Grrrrr. Maybe later.)

little lumpy dumdums

Some parents have the unfortunate luck of getting kids who are obsessed with Thomas the Train, or Dora, or -heaven forbid!- Barney. But my girls, kinda by accident, love the Muppets. Their Daddy is so proud! And I can actually pretty well tolerate watching The Muppet Movie and Muppets Take Manhattan, so I count myself lucky. Even Miss Piggy is better than that stupid purple dinosaur (oh, and so much for my high and mighty, not-going-to-let-my-kids-watch-tv principles, also).

Still, even The Rainbow Connection can wear on the nerves after a while, so I introduced Punkin to the magic that is Babes in Toyland. Ding ding ding! We have a winner.

Anyway. All of this was to sort-of justify my blog title for the day and to make the point that I've seen the Muppet movies waaaaaay too much.

On to the real news: Lump update. I have cat scratch fever. Great. I'm a Ted Nugent song. That alone makes obvious the need for an antibiotic. So they gave me this massive, killer, one-shot dose that is drunk all at once and then slow-releases in my system over 5 days, killing the crap outta some bacteria and making me feel like crap in the process. Hoo-ray. It will still probably take about 3 weeks for the lump in my arm to go away, but it should start to calm down soon. That'll be nice. I'll be quite glad when this whole thing is over. And I'm quite glad to know that it's nothing more serious. Davey can stop freaking out now. At least about that.

Coincidentally (providentially?) during the Great Lump Ordeal, they've decided that there is most likely a problem with my thyroid. That would explain the extreme exhaustion I've had lately, among other things, and (most importantly, in my mind anyway) the 10+ pounds I've frikkin' gained while breastfeeding. So I'm waiting for the test results, but they said that my thyroid gland felt large, and when I googled hypothyroidism when I got home Monday, I read about post-partum hypothyroidism. Yeah. I can pretty much check off every single symptom on the list. So I really feel right now like I'm just waiting on confirmation. Fortunately it's very treatable, and most likely temporary.

In happier news, it's SPRING!!!!! Everything is green and growing again, and all the little seeds we planted are popping up in the garden and starting to grow (I can't wait for the peas.. I love fresh peas!), we got some more chickees from the co-op (Blue egg layers again. So fun.) and the weather is warm enough to go camping! We've got a trip planned in a few weeks, the same weekend that Davey is taking me to see Toad the Wet Sprocket at the Bijou in Knoxville. I've never seen them live, but they're one of my all-time favorite bands, so I'm pretty excited about this. Plus, grown-up time! And, I'm pretty sure I can finagle a trip to Mast General Store while we're downtown. It'll be a lovely time. Maybe I'll even be able to stay awake for it!

the only thing we have to fear

I should be more scared than I am, I think. Others would be. The poor hubby most certainly is.

Lemme explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up. Buttercup is going to .. wait. That's not it.

Ok- seriously this time:

Last week I found a lump on my arm. A big, gnarly, painful lump. A little bit of internet searching showed it to be a lymph node (who knew there were lymph nodes in the elbow?). A little more searching led me to think I might have an infection maybe, but surely it was no big deal. Right?

I felt exhausted and flu-ish all weekend, and then Monday so tired that I just didn't even want to get out of bed. So I decided it was time to go to the doctor. Got an initial round of bloodwork (which didn't show anything useful), some looks of concern, and an antibiotic, just in case. And an appointment to go back in 2 weeks, sooner if the lump got any bigger or things appeared to be getting worse.

Back to today. The lump is bigger. It hurts like the dickens. I'm tired all the time (some of that could be the antibiotic, though). I'm giving the antibiotic 1 more day to start working (and the lump one more day to stop growing) and then, I'm calling the Dr. again. Maybe it's just the wrong antibiotic for the potential infection that I have. Maybe it's not an infection after all. This is what has been on my mind all week. There are no answers yet, and there probably won't be for at least another week. Maybe longer. Because the biggest rub is this: we don't have medical insurance. Part of the "leap of faith" we took when I quit my job was to go without insurance for a while, and trust that God was going to get us through, somehow, until we could afford the insurance offered at Davey's job. Naturally it has already occurred to me that if I'm really sick, no insurance company is going to touch me if they can help it. So tests are expensive, and have to be paid for out of pocket.

(and let me just back up and say this: God has been so incredibly faithful. Everything we need and so much more has been provided, sometimes in the most unexpected, beautiful ways. That's part of the fun of living on faith. God gets to do stuff way cooler than we ever could do on our own.)

I should really be scared right now, I think. I am, just a little. But two thoughts keep coming back to me. That God will take care of us, and that if this is more than just an infection, I am strong enough to fight it. Maybe not to win, but to at least give it one hell of a bloody nose. Should that be so comforting? I don't know, but it is.

I am also reminded every single day what an amazing gifts I've been given. Being able to stay home with my girls, for one. The last four months have been supersweet, and I wouldn't trade them for anything. I've got the greatest husband a girl could ever hope for, and I'm constantly being given the opportunity to fall in love with him a little bit more. Every day we share an amazing adventure. I live in the most beautiful place (methheads next door aside. I just don't look that direction), surrounded by mountains and forest and the beauty of creation (not to mention all the fun farm animals we've been collecting).

This past week, in spite of everything, I feel more connected to it all. So if nothing more comes of this than that, well, cool.

I feel a certain determination not to let this ... whatever it is, slow me down. In fact, it's becoming something of a motivator. Not much of one, because I'm still pretty exhausted every day, but still. This past weekend we started our vegetable garden (Davey did most of the real work while I "supervised"). Yesterday I started working out again. Nothing strenuous, but just enough to be able to say that I did it (And yes, sadly, I'm sore from it today. I haven't really worked out in 2 years!). I even got some laundry done today. Seriously, that last accomplishment is more impressive than you know.

Maybe I'm a little more scared than I'm willing to admit. It does feel good to get all this out of my head. Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and the antibiotic will have kicked in and the lump will be smaller and all will be right in my little speck of the world. I hope so. But if you think about it, say a prayer for me, and especially for the poor, freaking-out hubby.

And since I don't like to be bringing people down - here's some adorableness to brighten things up:

Dang, I've got some cute kids.

10 days?!? Already?!

It doesn't seem like it's been 10 days since Maezie was born, but it has. Most of it's pretty much a blur of no sleep, junk food, a massive 'Scrubs' marathon, and dirty diapers. All last week I had Davey here to help me cope, and that was HUGE, because he already knows what needs to be done without anyone having to ask. He's a good man. Not even kidding.

But now Davey's gone back to work and I'm on my own. I'll tentatively say that it's going ok. I did have a bit of an emotional breakdown this morning, but only for about 10 minutes. I do seriously miss a good night's sleep. And I hope and pray that Punkin will adjust to having to share the spotlight with her sibling. So far that's been the hardest thing to deal with. Usually Punkin is a happy, easy kid. She just wants to hang out and do her thing. But for the past few days she wants to be held constantly, and is super duper fussy. Hard to deal with when there's a newborn around, too. Maezie, on the other hand, is a breeze. Much like Punkin was at that age, only even easier because I've had a little bit of practice this time around.

I'm optimistic about this staying at home business. I think I can handle it.

t-minus

12 hours and counting. We're due at the hospital at 5:30 in the AM to finally get to meet this little girl. This day has taken FOR EVERRR. Davey and I have spent the day trying to get labor going on it's own - we took a long walk, spicy food, all the little "tricks" (except castor oil.. I figure I'll be kind to the Drs and nurses.) While I do feel a wee bit more relaxed, I'm still totally anxious to get this over with. Sleep tonight? I doubt it.

3 weeks, 4 days..

.. and counting.

That's the maximum amount of time remaining before girly # 2 makes her grand entry into the world. ( I know this is the MAX amount of time because I sooooo scheduled an induction this time around. I know it's not all natural and blah blah blah, but I'm not going to be in the hospital for Thanksgiving, dammit!) Whew. Anyhow. You'd think that with the clock ticking and time running short I'd be just about putting the finishing touches on the nursery, lovingly staring at wee baby socks and newborn-sized clothes. And you'd be WRONG. This time around my nesting impulses are on misfire. I have made about a dozen adorable baby hats, and some booties, and started organizing all my crafting supplies. Oh, and I got some new furniture for Punkin's room, which I totally redid and got looking all neat and orderly again (seriously, friends and family, no more baby clothes!! NO MORE!). But Maezie's room? Well.... Davey put the crib up on Friday, so I guess that's a start. And my dad is painting it for me this week. And we moved the twin guest bed into the master bedroom and smooshed it up next to our queen to make one giant-sized bed (Can you say "awesome"? Yeah you can).
I keep having this recurring dream where I go into labor and my suitcase isn't packed. Sometimes I'm at home screaming at Davey not to forget the boppy, others I'm at work, screaming on the phone to poor Davey not to forget the boppy, or I'm driving home from work (the hospital is 5 minutes from my office, and 1 hour from my house, for perspective) so I can pack my suitcase, because I'm not forgetting that damn boppy! As you can see, the insanity is on overdrive 'round here. And the stupid suitcase isn't packed. I keep thinking I'll get to it, but there are dishes to wash and birthday parties to plan and Halloween decorations to put up. I bring the madness on myself.
Speaking of Halloween- we took Punkin to Boo @ the Zoo on Friday night. It. was. awesome. Crowded, but awesome. Adorable kids in costumes (Punkin went as, what else?! a pumpkin), free candy, the zoo. What could be better? I got to wear my jack-o-lantern t-shirt that makes me look like the Great Pumpkin. Yes, I'll post pictures.
So. Maybe tonight I'll get around to packing that suitcase. Or just bake some cookies for the Halloween party instead...

less chemicals = healthier hair. who knew?!

I'm one of those people for whom clean hair is a really Big Deal. As a teenager wallowing in the throes of puberty, my hair was super-oily and I could just never get it clean enough. At one point, I was washing it with dish soap (!) to get it clean and non-greasy feeling. (oh yeah. I was that girl. The one with the stringy hair). Anywho.. over the years I've had a love/hate relationship with my hair, trying to keep it feeling clean and product-free (well, except for that short affair with hairspray and huge bangs in the 7th grade...) and healthy. I always, ALWAYS had split ends. Baaad ones. Trimming my split ends just meant that my hair got shorter and shorter every month. Seriously. It was ridiculous. Then came pregnancy and the birth of my darling daughter. For all the while I was pregnant, my hair was relatively thick and healthy, thought I still had mad split ends, but then came the post-pregnancy hormone crash (and the ensuing whoopsie, I'm pregnant again! hormone rush) and literally, my hair was falling out. And I was freaking out. Seriously. Bald patches. I'm not even kidding.
I remembered once a long time ago that a guy friend told me that certain chemicals in shampoos actually caused hair loss, so I decided to do a little research. What I found was that the main ingredient in most shampoos (sodium lauryl or laureth sulfate) is actually really bad for your hair and causes split ends, and can cause hair loss. So I went in search of a shampoo that didn't have any of that nastiness in it. I ended up trying Burt's Bees, because, well, I'm a huge sucker for those bees, and because the price was actually less than I was paying for my 10-11.00 shampoo and conditioner that was wreaking havoc on my hair. I noticed a difference almost immediately. It doesn't foam up as much as regular shampoo, but my hair is clean and smells nice, and I haven't had a split end in months. AND, I stopped having handfuls of hair come out every time I washed! Hallelujah!
Sadly, my beloved Burts and most other natural-ish shampoos are hella expensive, and what with our upcoming economic downturn (aka me staying home to be a mommee) I'm going to need to come up with some way to get clean and healthy hair that doesn't cost me 30 bucks a month. I know of one friend who washes her hair with baking soda and vinegar, with great results, she says, but I'm just not ready to go that hippie... yet. So, off to research ways to make my own shampoo. Anyone got any suggestions?

A trip to the Delano Farm Market

Last Sunday for the 4th, Davey and I were feeling a wee bit on the lazy side (we had celebrated his 30th birthday the day before with good food (STEAK!) and lots of good friends) so we decided it was a good day for a drive. We'd been meaning to get out and do some exploring of the area, to get more familiar with what's nearby, so we struck out towards Benton and the Ocoee river to see what we could see.
A few weeks ago at camp we tubed the Hiawassee (well, some of us tubed. I mostly got stuck on rocks in a raft. But it was still fun!) and I caught sight of something I had been wanting to check out ever since: a sign for the Delano Farm Market. I love me some farmer's markets and this was 15 minute from the house, so definitely worth checking out. DEFINITELY. When we turned at the sign, the very first thing I noticed was a road sign warning of horse and buggy crossings. What the hey? Turns out this little portion of Tennessee is Mennonite country, and the farm market is run by the Mennonites, selling the produce from their farm. The Farm market was closed on Sunday (naturally), so we decided to come back the next day (hooray for 3 day weekends!) and check it out.
This place has got to be one of the best farm markets I've ever been to. The produce is FRESH - as in, they just literally picked the crops, loaded the wagon and drove them up here 10 minutes ago kind of fresh. From the parking lot, the farm spreads out in this gorgeous panorama, and it's fascinating to watch all the horse drawn wagons and buggies go by as the Mennonites go about their daily business. It's so serene and simple. Davey and I just sat there and watched them working in their fields for about 20 minutes. But then it was time to get down to the business of shopping (heck yeah, baby). The market has about 8 different varieties of heirloom tomatoes, and the same for chiles and peppers. Tomatoes run 1.25 lb, bell peppers were .75 each, and the hot chiles were all 3 for a dollar. Cabbage was .40/lb, and some of the cabbages were bigger around than my head. They had red and white potatoes (8 lb basket for 4.00), all sorts of melons (which made me cry because the smell was divine and I couldn't have ANY!), eggplant, beets, beans, okra, squash, zuchinni, onions, garlic, sweet corn (3.50 a dozen), plums, peaches, and a few quarts of blackberries. I read in an article I found online that they have amazing strawberries in the spring (though I'm pretty happy with what we got from the Mayfield farm), but of course, those are out of season now. They also sell sorghum (no honey though, bummer), jams, jellies, soaps, etc.
I was also excited to see that they sell seeds that they have saved from the crops they grow - which means that they're local and proven for our area. I'll be trying those out next year.

I managed to get out of the market with only a sampling of some tomato varieties to try (since Davey and I have never really eaten anything but your status quo red tomato from the grocery store), potatoes and a few huge bell peppers. I plan on going back next week with a lot more spending money and pretty much going crazy up in there. Yeah.




If you want to visit the Delano Farm Market - take Highway 411 S past Etowah to Delano Rd. You'll see a sign for the Farm Market on your right. Turn at the sign and then turn right again on Needle Eye Ln. There's a one lane underpass at the train tracks, so watch for oncoming cars (or buggies!). The farm market is just on the other side of the tracks. They're open M -S 9am to 4pm, and only take cash. Also, they ask that people (women especially) dress respectfully. Mostly they don't want to see your boobs. Fair enough, I think.

Oh, and just a heads up: there is no electricity and so no air conditioning. And not a lot of deodorant-wearing. By either the Mennonites or a lot of their hippie-ish patrons. Just sayin'.