SING!

I just wanted to see if I could get anyone to faint by updating not once, but twice - in ONE WEEK!! That should give you some indication of how bored I am with the riveting world of housing industry public relations. Be still, my beating interest rate.

In true typecasting, I have been given the role of "Kristine," the dancer who can't sing to save her life, in the upcoming production of "A Chorus Line" with my new theater (or "theatre" if you're truly cultured. Or pretentious.) group, Destination Theatre. The downside of this role is that it is a pretty nice-sized role, with lots of dialogue, a whole song, and plenty of dancing -- thereby likely to land me in divorce court from a time commitment standpoint. The upside is that I will be doing the show with my bestest little short person mommy friend Rachel, all four-feet-ten-inches (oh, 11, fine) of her. Should be a blast! Kristine's signature piece is aptly titled "SING!" which, of course, she cannot do. I can at least sing (a little), but it will be a huge relief for me to actually squawk and shriek on stage with the goal of being as BAD as possible. I still have to dance well, unfortunately, which as I found out during auditions would be an easier feat if I wasn't Captain Carbs-a-lot, actually got some exercise other than toting the 23 lb screaming eel up and down the steps, could wear a leotard without looking like a sausage factory accident, and had any of the flexibility left that made me such a popular party trick in my earlier days (reference: bachelorette party photo of foot over head, wearing 3 inch heels and feeling no pain. Til the next day at least)

That's all the news for now. Molly is feeling better but has lately turned into a control freak on issues like diaper changes, eating, clothes changing, crayon picking, page turning...basically anything that occurs during waking moments. It's a blast. Why do we want to do this again??? DO we want to do this again?!?! EEK!

(NOTE: THIS IS IN NO WAY AN INDICATION OF A CHANGE IN CURRENT CHILD COUNT. WE WILL ISSUE AN ALL POINTS BULLETIN SHOULD THE CHILD QUANTITY EXCEED THE CURRENT LIMIT OF 'ONE' IN OUR HOUSEHOLD. PLEASE RESUME NORMAL BREATHING PATTERNS.)

Greetings from Snotsville USA

Yeah, I really have that boring of a life that my child's bodily excretions are worthy of their own blog entry. While it seems that the little monster had had some kind of snotty nose for about the last 3 years, including time in utero, she got cough-y and phlegm-y enough today that even DADDY agreed she needed to go to the doctor (something that usually requires "proof" of serious illness such as an amputated limb or second head sprouting). Turns out she has RSV and a double ear infection (sounds like something you would order at Starbucks -- "Make mine a half-caf RSV with a double E/I, please"). We are lucky this didn't happen last year -- RSV would likely have landed her in the hospital as an infant. It stands for Respiratory Syncitial Virus (look at me throwin' around all the medical terminology, now that I am considering nursing school!) and is a cousin of pneumonia that causes wheezing, coughing and all sorts of unpleasantness, including, apparently, the desire to take all solid foods and shove them up mommy's butt or somewhere equally far away from said child's mouth.

She has been surviving on Pediasure, chocolate milk, drinkable yogurt and daddy's homemade milkshakes. Yesterday, Daddy aka Captain Child Psychology aka I Worked In A Daycare Don't Question My Parenting WHERE IS MY SUPERSUIT, WOMAN?!?! decided that we needed to start boosting Molly's protein intake since her idea of well rounded nutrition is eating solely from the F group - French Fries, Frosty, Fingers (chicken), etc. Sooooo, daddy mixed up vanilla ice cream, nestle quik, bananas, and...A RAW EGG. Yes, because apparently Molly has unbeknowst to me become a champion weightlifter and will soon be trading in her cheerios for Creatine. BLEGGGGGGGGH. Needless to say I was none too amused with Daddy's efforts, as thoughtful as they were to get her to try to eat more. Sigh. He is home with her today and tomorrow while she rests up from the RSV, so I am secretly hoping that maybe a few nice rounds of less-than-well-formed poop might repay daddy for the raw egg favor.