Hate It, Love It

Well, folk, since we last spoke, I got whatever bug the girls had (blerg, but whatever), then a few days later Jeremy started feeling cruddy as well. Nothing major, just the coughing, sore throat, headache, congestion thing about 95% of the world has at the moment. By Sunday, it seemed like Genevieve was finally feeling better.

BUT THEN ... 

MYSTERY RASH.

My little biscuit woke up with some strange red bumps all over her chest on Monday morning. Her pediatrician was home sick with her son (and had to cancel patients for the first time ever, she later told me), so I went to the back-up doctor. He said it was textbook viral rash, and I should give her an antihistamine and call for a follow-up appointment in a week if it didn't get better.

I should have been relieved, but it just didn't sit right with me. THEN, this morning she woke up with the bumps spread to her face and legs. Within an hour, her ears were totally red and swollen, her whole scalp was covered, and her ankles, wrists, and knees were red, swollen, and hot to the touch.

Even though my pediatrician was slammed, she said to bring G in and she would see her instead of taking a lunch (WE HAVE THE BEST DOCTOR EVER). Guess what? NOT HIVES. It's an infection that needs to be treated with antibiotics, and because it went so long without treatment, the rash had gotten to the "swelling phase," which is very painful and needs steroids to control.

I AM LIVID. 

And now, everything is making me mad. I wanted to list all the things that are making me mad, but I compromised and decided I could come here and bitch if I listed one thing I am loving for every thing I list that I am hating.

Here we go:


Okay, this 24-hour beer challenge. I HATE IT. Why are people doing this? If you haven't had these videos show up in your timeline and you have no idea what I'm talking about, just count yourself lucky (or Google it, whatever. I'm not your mom.). It just makes me feel very icky. And it's very aggressive. DON'T TELL ME I ONLY HAVE A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF TIME TO SLAM A BEER BY POSTING A VIDEO OF YOU SLAMMING ONE. NO SIR. (Okay, now you don't have to Google it, I guess. But you still can, if you want. Seriously, I'm not your mom.)

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My dear friend is 20-ish weeks pregnant and just found out if she's having a boy or a girl! She called and told me last night and then told me to make a list of names for her. I got out my baby name books and boy howdy, did she get a list last night. I wish I could name a hundred babies (as long as I don't have to carry them all to term, because DAMN that is hard work).

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If I see one more picture on facebook of a JELLY DONUT being passed off as a paczki, SO HELP ME. At first I was mad at the people posting the pictures, then I realize my anger should be directed towards the institutions that find it acceptable to toss a plain old flat jelly donut on a tray, put a different sign in front of it, and raise the price. YOU JERKS. Okay, I'm also a little mad that the girls are sick so I can't pack them up to drive the 40 minutes to buy a real one.

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I have been re-watching 30 Rock from the beginning on Netflix, and I am so glad that 30 Rock exists, not to mention Netflix Instant Play and Chromecast. Before that I watched Parks and Rec and The Office all the way through again from the beginning, and oh, they make me so happy.

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Remember how I landed funny on my shoulder when I fell down the stairs? Well, I did, and it still hurts SO BAD. The worst part is, as soon as it starts to feel a little better, I do something normal and it pops out again and I have to stifle a scream and a stream of swear words. Nine times out of ten I am holding Genevieve while I do it, so it's a fun little moment. 

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I seriously love the name generator Slate created to "Travoltify" your name. (If you didn't watch the Oscars, you'll need some background on that one. I did the work for you on this one: CLICK HERE.) I got Victoria Dicksant, and I laugh every time I see it. Dicksant! 

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Alright, I know the things I'm angry about make me seem like a total butthead, but I'm in a bad place people. Don't give me crap about it. YOU'RE NOT MY MOM. 

(Well, one of you is. Hi, mom!)