In the past month alone 4 of my friends have lost their jobs. They all have families, rent/mortgage and bills to pay. While unemployment will help, it won’t come close to their usual monthly income. I found out about Angel Food Ministries today. They seem to serve people across the United States. In my area alone there are 5 Angel Food Ministries locations. They are helping people in their time of need. This is not a food pantry, its a service through which people can purchase food at a minimal cost; brand name foods, fresh fruits, fresh vegetables, chicken, beef, pork, etc. They have prepared meals for seniors as well as staples that individuals and families can use to create their own meals. Individuals must order on or before the due date for their area. Here, in my area the order deadline is December 5th. I’ve talked with people that have ordered from Angel Food. They were all very impressed with their orders and they continue to utilize Angel Food’s services today. If you, or someone you know, could benefit from their services, please pass along their information. Angel Food is helping to feed America, one box at a time.
November is Prematurity Awareness Month. At this time each year my family and I contact local businesses, churches, schools, and social groups to spread the word about prematurity. We ask locals to find ways to recognize prematurity by incorporating pink and blue into their offices, school projects, and awareness ribbons. Prematurity isn’t just another cause to us, its a family affair that hit home on July 29, 2007.
On July 28, 2007 I attended my 7 month OB appointment. The doctor went about things as he always had, weight, belly measurements, listening to the tiny baby inside me, he then asked about her movement. I explained that she was such a calm baby, all I ever felt to that point were hick-ups and occasional small swishes. His eyes popped! He sent me home with strict orders to down a 2 liter of highly caffeinated soda within one hour then to lay still for one hour, noting any and all movements on a form. I was then instructed to call him immediately following that hour. I went home terrified. I drank the soda and then settled in on the couch. I watched as the time slipped away, minute by minute, second by second… nothing, not a hick-up, swish, or twitch. I began to panic. I gave it more time, 30 more minutes, until my husband returned home from duty. He walked in and found me crying. I was too upset to call the doctor so he did it for me. I was immediately rushed to the local hospital where I was evaluated by my doctor once more. He left the room without saying a word. I was overwhelmed with fear. A nurse walked in, she was carrying a large syringe. I asked why I needed an injection and all she would say is “The doctor has ordered it.” I refused until I could speak with my OB. He came into the room immediately, sitting down on the foot of the bed he explained that my daughter was in serious trouble. She had an extremely low fetal heartbeat and showed no movement. Due to her gestation level he wanted to try his best to keep her in-utero for as long as possible. The shot was steroids, to help her lungs develop as quickly as possible. I was being admitted to the hospital until her birth. He said he was hoping to deliver her in about a week. I was moved upstairs.
We hadn’t planned for this. Would she survive? Would her big brother ever have the chance to meet her? Is she going to be ok? What would we name her? All of these questions and more flooded my mind. I was fitted with a fetal monitor and taken for ultra sounds every few hours. The next morning, before the sun had peeked over the desert’s edge, the nurse woke me for my morning ultra sound. She, like all of the technicians before her, sat silently as they rolled around my still belly. No one would talk to me, no one would answer my questions when I asked if my baby was ok. I was wheeled back to my room where I took a shower. A few minutes later I came out of the restroom and found that my bag had been packed and it was sitting neatly on my bed, alongside the rest of my belongings. A nurse was standing in the corner. She told me I was being medivaced to New Mexico State for an emergency c-section. The hospital that I was staying in wasn’t equipped for a preemie in such serious condition. I panicked. My husband had left early that morning to drive to El Paso, about 2 1/2 hours away, to pick up my mother, who had flown in from KY to care for our son. I didn’t know where he was or when he would return. I began making calls to his Sargent, the air port, anyone I could think of. Friends came to sit with me while we waited for the helicopter to arrive in Alamogordo, my friend’s husband, Ernie, stood by the entrance of the hospital waiting for my husband. (this was well before we owned cell phones) About an hour had passed, the nurse and two tech’s came into my room. They asked me to lay on a portable stretcher so they could take me to an ambulance that was waiting downstairs. I felt lost. I climbed onto the stretcher fearful that my husband was going to miss the birth of our daughter. The nurse slowly wheeled me down the hall. As they were crossing the hospital drive my husband, son, and mother pulled in. Ernie, ran to them explaining what was happening. My ex had made it! We piled into the ambulance and began the 30 minute drive back to the base for air transport. Ernie explained to my Mom, whom had never been to New Mexico, how to make the 4 1/2 hour drive to Albuquerque. The ambulance arrived at Holloman AFB just as the helicopter touched the tarmac. My husband and I were transfered to a tiny area in the center of the helicopter bay, strapped in, and we took off. The flight seemed to take forever. When we landed I was rushed inside and prepped for surgery. Our beautiful baby girl was born minutes later.
E didn’t make a sound as a horde of doctors and nurses surrounded her and swept her away to another room. I was cleaned up and transfered to a room at the far end of the L&D floor. I couldn’t get out of bed and kept calling to my nurse. I wanted to see my baby. The nurse reassured me, more times than I can count, that my daughter was doing well. She promised to take me to the NICU as soon as the doctors would allow for it. Again, time moved slowly. After 8 hours of waiting I had enough, I tried to get out of bed on my own and fell to the floor. The nurses ran in as I screamed to see my daughter. I hadn’t seen her or my husband since the moments after my delivery. I was told that my husband had gone to arrange for a place to stay with my Mom and my son as the nurses handed me a very fuzzy Polaroid of my tiny little baby girl. While in the hospital the night before I had decided to name her E. F. Her name means STRENGTH and TRUST. The nurses wrote her name on the picture and promised to come back with a wheel chair as soon as the doctor’s OKed visitors for little E.
About 2 hours later they rolled me from my room at New Mexico State, down the long corridors to the NICU. There I washed with iodine soap and medicated nail brushes before slipping on a hair net, mask and bright yellow scrub gown. I was SO excited to see my little girl! I was wheeled to the back of the NICU to a warmer. She looked so small and fragile. There seemed to be wires and tubes coming from every part of her. She lay there still and quiet as I was told that I could touch her. I began to cry as I thought about the tiny life before me. I was aloud to hold her for a few brief moments, wrapping her tiny little arms and legs snuggly in a warm blanket, being sure to leave access for all of her tubes and wires through the bottom of her wrapping. I sat with her, singing to her, touching her, and crying over her for two hours before the nurses wheeled me back to my room.
E spent 5 weeks in the NICU. She battled jaundice, apnea, and the inability to breathe on her own, and a myriad of other challenges. Little E was a trooper. To this day I am in awe of her strength. She came so close to leaving us a number of times, but always managed to pull through. We had daily visits from home nurses for the next 3 months while E continued with oxygen and apnea monitoring. Every day was a challenge but also a blessing. As she grew we learned more and more about preemie development, risks, and challenges. E was constantly followed by developmental specialists; working with occupational therapy, physical therapy, and other such assistance. She came along at her own pace.
Now at 12, E lives with Autism Spectrum Disorder, hyper sensitivity (Audio/Visual), Central Auditory Processing Disorder, Dyslexia, and a few other challenges. She takes them all in stride. She’s my perfect little angel. The March of Dimes has been there for us from the beginning, with surfectant for her lungs, to programs to encourage her development, and now allowing her to speak on their behalf at local events so that other parents, preemies, and the local community can hear her story and know the importance of the battle against prematurity.
November is Prematurity Awareness Month, please contact your local March of Dimes office for Prematurity Awareness ribbons and tips on how you can help shine a light on prematurity.
Sister Teresa Forcades is speaking out regarding the hiden truth of the H1N1 virus. She graduated with her doctorate in Public Health from the University of Barcelona and received her specialization in Internal Medicine through the University of New York. Sister Teresa also has her Masters in Divinity from Harvard University and a doctorate from the Facultad de Teología de Catalunya. Sister Teresa is a published author (Crimes and Abuses of the Pharmaceutical Industry , The Trinity Today, and Feminist Theology in History)
Sister Teresa is speaking out against the World Health Organization’s global H1N1 vaccination program and she gives a very detailed account of the flu’s history, the political and social impacts of the flu and the vaccine, and she calls for urgent public action. While the video does take some time to watch, about 45 minutes, it is well worth the time taken. You may also read an excerpt of Sister Teresa’s (translated into English) interview at Iglesia Descalza.
Sitting at breakfast today B’s voice cracked. He immediately blushed and began rambling about his current situation:
Mom, this sucks. The day I caught puberty my life ended. I hate all of this hair in my arm pits; my deodorant makes it stick to me. It itches! I’ve got zits. I hate zits! They’re nasty and it looks like my nose is HUGE! I hate talking because I keep doing this squeak thing. Going out in public is embarrassing. When’s it going to stop? Why did I have to catch puberty? This SUCKS!
By this point I was struggling to hide my smile. The day he caught puberty?! I spent the next 5 minutes explaining that we don’t catch it; puberty isn’t a germ that we pick up if we don’t wash our hands and it won’t be over any time soon. Poor B, I could see that he’s going through a lot and I know its going to get worse before it gets better, but couldn’t bring myself to tell him that. I remember my own crazy ride through puberty, but being female, I never (thankfully) had to experience many of the outwardly noticeable effects that it has on boys. I dealt with mood swings, learning to shave my legs and underarms, and growing breasts, not a cracking voice, spontaneous erections, and what looks like a dirty lip due to burgeoning facial hair. My little guy is becoming a man, much faster than I imagined possible. I wish I could hand him a pill or rub in a cream that would slow down or even stop puberty, I really do, but I can’t. So, for at least the next few years, we’re both going to have to deal with the effects of puberty, symptom by miserable symptom. For now, I’m off to the store to buy medicated face wash and less sticky deodorant!
Saturday was our annual Gathering of Ghouls! Our friends arrived just before sunset to an evening full of Halloween themed games and treats.
Costumes were a requirement! Those that arrived without a costume were ordered to the dungeon (basement) where the were promptly dressed by the children in the house. (We keep a large supply of dress up clothes and old Halloween costumes for occasions just like this!) Every year there are a few that wander in un-dressed. The kids couldn’t wait to get their hands on them. This year they created a construction worker costume, using Little Jr. Tools and the matching tool belt, paired with my old hard hat. They also somehow managed to squeeze a 6′6” man into my old Morticia costume.
For dinner we had Fred, the Carcass of The Beast, bat wings, zombie melon brain, hummus grave yard, Witch’s hats, fingers, and toes, veggies and dip, couscous salad, and more. I spent the days prior to the party preparing the food. I whipped up Fred (pictured above) by slathering my favorite cheese ball mixture on a sanitized skull then topped him with Budding Beef. I was supposed to insert hard boiled egg and olive eyes.. but lost track of time and forgot the day of the party. Oops! The Carcass of the Beast was fairly easy to make as well. I used a small (new and sanitized) trash can and cut it into a rib cage. I then covered the exterior with expanding foam. Once that dried, I sprayed it with watered down red, brown, black, and purple paints. The day of the party I lined the rib cage with foil and filled it with pulled pork. It would have presented a bit better laid onto a silver platter lined with greens, but again – that pesky time thing. The Bat Wings were fairly simple; I love that the sauce gives them a black glaze, perfect for a bat-ish look! The Zombie Brain was easy, but time consuming. It is a small ball watermelon, carved to look like a brain. It took several hours to complete due to having to remove all of the green skin then carving the white flesh to look like wrinkles in the brain, with pink melon showing through between the whitish brain curls. It was worth it though, it looked great and tasted yummy too. I also made a bleeding eyeball cake… I used the Wilton ball cake pan and a quarter sheet cake pan. I filled them with red velvet cake and once cooled I cut the top off of each half of the ball cake sides… which were going to become my eyeballs. I hollowed out some of the 1/2 balls and then iced the interior with royal icing. I filled the hollow area with raspberry sauce (a simple sauce made with puree’d raspberries, strained to remove the seeds, blended with powdered sugar to taste) I then reapplied the top of each ‘eye’ and then did a crumb coat of royal icing. Then I placed the eyes on the sheet cake and ice the entire cake. I let it sit over night and the next morning I hand painted, using icing gel colors, a small paint brush and water, directly onto the icing. It had crusted overnight which made it easy to paint. I added veins, an iris and pupil. I was going to make rounds of clear gelatin for the iris/pupil and paint those with icing color, but ran out of time. I think it would have looked far more realistic… but what I did end up doing worked great as well. I pulled the plastic covering off of my son’s zombie gloves and used the zombie hands to hold the eyeballs on the cake. I poured, very carefully, red icing color around the eyes to look like dripping blood and used black reflective sprinkles on the rest of the cake. The hummus graveyard was simple and quick. I found the idea and recipe in Family Fun Magazine. Of course we had punch too… blood punch. I poured ice into a very large cauldron then set a glass punch bowl inside, filled with strawberry-kiwi juice. The ice lightened up the inside of the cauldron which helped to show the red tent of the Blood Punch. I then put hands and a face made from ice inside. These were very easy to make.. simply fill two, wellwashed, latex gloves with water and freeze, do the same for a cheap face mask with the eye and mouth holes covered. Floating the ice face/hands in the water adds a nice effect, as the face/hands melt, your victim appears to drown in the punch. I found labels for condiment bottles, salt and pepper shakers, drink bottles, etc that said things like Black Widow Venom, Eye of Newt, etc I printed them on photo paper and applied them to containers/bottles/etc.
We also played a number of games. All but one of the games were the same for both the kids and adult parties:
During the kids portion of the evening we wrapped adult volunteers in toilet paper (for the older kids) and white streamer (for the younger kids) to create Mummies. The kids broke into teams and raced to see who could cover their mummy in the least amount of time.
Halloween Monster trivia game – I collected both well known and obscure facts on 13 Halloween Monsters
Guess the Gross Body Part – Placing various houshold items and foods into plastic bags, covered with paper bags for a guessing game. Some of the items used were: a wet ball sponge (Brain), carved carrot bites (fingers/toes), pull apart Twizzlers covered with olive oil (intestines), popcorn kernels (teeth), torn up lunch meat (skin), peeled grapes (eyes)… etc
This is me... trying to slurp down my jello
Marshmallow Munch – Thread a string through a marshmallow and hang from the ceiling/door frame/bar. Each participant held their arms behind their backs and had to eat the entire marshmallow, the first one to have the entire marshmallow eaten wins
I ‘Vant to Suck Your Blood – I made thin sheets of jello jigglers out of cherry jello, each participant was given a 2×2 inch square (that is only about 1/2 in. deep) and a soda straw. The objective is to use the straw to suck up the blood (jello) The sound this game makes is quite disgusting, everyone couldn’t help but laugh our way though
We wrapped up the planned festivities at midnight with a Costume Contest. I found ribbons for each category this year, but in years past I’ve given out trophies. It all depends on what I find for that year. The contest categories are: Sexiest (adults only), Funniest, Scariest, Cutest, Most Original and Best Overall. I also gave out cardboard tags that I for Lamest and Halloween Slacker (no costume or took their costume off before midnight) I’ve found these at novelty stores and stock up when I see them.
Most of the 21 and up party gang...
It’s our family tradition to hold the kids party from 6 to 8 and the adult’s party from 9 to whenever… this year we wrapped up just before 4 am! Its always SO much fun! After midnight everyone gets more comfortable, we kick off our shoes, some wash their faces and we settle in for a good game of Lunch Money, or whatever else seems to sound good at the time. This year we also got into the Wii. Have you ever tried to play balance games while drinking wine? That’s awesome material for laughter and pictures!
The kids and I have been down and out for nearly 6 weeks now due to passing around the Swine Flu, otherwise known as the H1N1 virus.
It started out innocently enough; I thought it was a cold! I woke up on Wednesday morning feeling a little out of sorts, by that night I had a stuffy head. That was it, until Friday. In my household I don’t have time to be sick. If I’m down and out, who will cook, do the laundry, and chase away dust bunnies? No one, thats who. My immune system wasn’t cooperating. By mid day Friday I felt like death warmed over. It was bad. I’ve never felt so sick in my life. B (my 13 yr old) kept asking me if I felt ok and ordering me to bed. In true Mom fashion, I refused and pushed through the rising fever and body aches until the room began to spin around 2 pm. That was it, I was toast. I went to bed and didn’t move again until Monday. When I finally crawled out of my germ filled pit, I found the kids had done their best to take care of themselves, cooking and cleaning in true teen fashion… meaning that things were everywhere. I didn’t have the energy to say anything. I moved from my bed to the couch, where I stayed for the next 4 days, exceptions only being necessity. All in all though, the kids did a great job. They were wonderful caretakers; almost too wonderful. By the time I was feeling half human again, E (my 12 yr old) was showing signs of the crud, B soon followed.
I had watched the tv blurbs, worded perfectly to scare the be-geebies out of folks. I had read articles and talked to other mom’s about the impending doom of the H1N1 epidemic. All the while, thinking very little of it. Now, looking back, I’m glad that I didn’t buy into the hype. The flu is horrid; I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, but in the end, it’s just the flu. It swept through our household like a steroid ravaged gremlin, but left no scars.
During our handful of doctors appointments the pediatrician and my own doctor added a few tid-bits that some of you may find useful:
If you’re feeling under the weather, don’t go out amongst the public. Keep your germies to yourself until you know for sure that you’re not carrying the funk. (H1N1, like many other bugs, takes 3-4 days to fully bloom)
If you have a cough, don’t bother with a medical mask (they don’t work; the virus’ particles are too small and pass right through). Instead, cover your mouth with the inside of your elbow. This will lessen the transfer of your germs to others by keeping most of your cooties on your shirt, which isn’t normally touched by yourself or others. Also immediately throw away used tissues and follow with proper sanitary measures.
H1N1 can live for several hours to days on surfaces. The BEST cleaner is HYDROGEN PEROXIDE! The virus isn’t resistant to it and it doesn’t leave a foul smell or residue. It’s also safe for most surfaces and fabrics.
Daily use of saline nasal rinses and gargling are highly suggested for their germ killing abilities. Since the H1N1 virus takes a few days to settle in, rinses/gargling can assist in washing the virus away before it has a chance to take hold. Drinking hot beverages also helps.
Taking your daily multiple vitamin and some extra vitamin C can help to boost your immune system. I also suggest a table-spoon or two of raw honey each day and/or ginger (in tea form or raw) for their antiviral abilities.
Most importantly, WASH YOUR HANDS! Not just after using the restroom or before eating, but often. Hand sanitizer is nice and sometimes effective, but many studies have shown that many sanitizing gels/sprays aren’t as menacing against germs as they claim to be.
All in all, a little commonsense goes a long way. Stay well!
It’s National Invisible Illness Awareness Week, September 14th to 20th!
I’m a 33 year old mom of two busy, young teens. I have soft pale skin, barely a wrinkle has begun around my eyes or on my forehead. I have gentle curves, blue-green eyes, curly, long brown hair, and long legs. I’m often told that I look much younger than I truly am. I look healthy, so why am I wanting to talk about National Invisible Illness Week?
All of my life, I’ve looked healthy. On the outside, I am the picture of health! Inside though is another story. From birth I have lived with invisible disorders. Everything from internal birth defects to chronic disorders. I learned at a very young age that I was a little different. As I’ve grown older, my list of medical snafus has grown; all are chronic, most will worsten as time goes on.
I first stumbled upon NORD (National Organization for Rare Disorders) when I was in my late 20’s. A friend of mine, whom is also a doctor, suggested that I check into it. At 27, I had already been diagnosed with two rare disorders, by 33 I now live with four. Nord is an EXCELLENT information resource for anyone that lives with a rare disorder or loves someone who does. They offer a wealth of information, seminars, current medically related politics, message boards, and more.
Two other priceless resources are But You Don’t Look Sick and Invisible Illness. Both were started by people who live with chronic invisible illnesses and grew into amazing support networks with message boards, blogs, research information, and more. I have been a member at BYLDS for three years now. It has been an amazing avenue of support and information. Like anyone living with illness, the support of others, knowing that you’re not alone, is one of the most important parts of ongoing treatment.
As you may or may not have noticed, I keep saying living with instead of dealing with, suffering from , etc. I do this very purposefully. In my short 33 years I have lived with epilepsy (age 7 through 17), cancer (at age 24), ongoing heart disease, syncope, renal disorders (coupled with renal deformities), degenerative spinal disorders (coupled with spinal deformities), arthritus, a mass on my brain, and more. There was a time in my life, many years ago, as a teen struggling with self-identity, when I looked at my medical complications as burdens. I frequently sat crying WHY ME? After some time I realized that my medical complexities are part of who I am. I have a choice: I can allow them to drain me and guide every aspect of my life or I can see them as part of who I am, a stepping stone of strength, understanding, and uniqueness. I can live with them instead of in spite of them. Some days are harder than others. There are days when it takes all I can muster to simply get out of bed, walk about, take care of my household and enjoy activities with my children, but I do it. Every day I count my spoons and I move forward. I appreciate the lessons I have learned due to my health and embrace every moment, big and small.
So, as with books, don’t judge a person by their cover! All of our stories have complexities, mine happens to have a lot of medical twists and turns, but its a good story none the less. My story may be longer or shorter than some, but it’s just right for me. All I ask is that people don’t judge me, or anyone else, by individual chapters, but instead take in the whole story.
The International Federation for Produce Standards (IFPS) is a voluntary organization that coordinates standardized codes for produce sale identification around the world. Their small stickers can be found on any individually sold produce, but not on bulk items. The tiny and sometimes annoying stickers contain a four to five digit code, known as a PLU (Product Look Up) and inputting this number notifies the grocer/store’s computer of your purchase.
Until recently I didn’t pay attention to the PLU codes on my produce but after reading about their purpose, they’ve become a nifty assistant when I’m shopping. The IFPS utilizes standard codes on all produce sold internationally. So, no matter where I shop, whether I go to my local grocer, travel out of state on vacation, or even over seas to visit friends, the PLU will be the same.
There are two important PLU tid bits to keep in mind:
The IFPS has decided that all ORGANIC produce will be identified with a #9 prior to the standard four digit code.
The IFPS identifies GENETICALLY MODIFIED products with a #8 prior to the standard code.
Therefore, if you wish to avoid the dangers of genetically modified produce, avoid the #8’s and search for the #9’s! You can look up the IFPS’s standardized codes by visiting their website.
You’ve more than likely heard that chivalry is dead and that the idea of a true gentleman lives only in the movies and memories of our elders. Sadly this is what many women today believe and I don’t blame them. If a man opens a car door, stands at the table until the women sit, maybe even offering to push in her chair… if a man treats all people with courtesy and respect, manages to keep vulgarities to himself and hasn’t got a story flaunting his latest trip to strip club, he’s a rare find. I’m doing my best not to buy into the idea of a world void of true gentlemen.
Chivalry isn’t dead, the concept of a gentleman isn’t lost forever, it just takes a more to find… which is so terribly sad. I’ve had the tremendous pleasure of having gentlemen in my life; my grandfather was a true gentleman, I have had friends that were/are gentlemen, and I’m doing my best to raise my son to be a gentleman. He frequently comments that ‘the other kids don’t have to’ …. which honestly gets under my skin. Why don’t the majority of men and parents feel that the role of a real man is to be a true gentleman? I’m not saying that progress should not take place, that women are in any way a lesser being and should be treated as such. What I am saying is that the decency and respect embodied by a gentlemen is something to be valued not looked upon with trepidation. Why is it that men/parents today are shying away from teaching and living these important lessons? Since when did it become a sign of weakness for man to have a strong respect for women, to always carry himself with dignity, and to occasionally open a door or or two? My son may dislike that I am trying to bring value to these traits now, but someday hopefully, he’ll find humble pride in them.
At 13 he’s being raised to never call a person a bitch, whore, or any other less than respectful title, to see all women as people, not objects, to know the difference between the beauty of the human form and pornography, to treat all people, regardless of gender, race, or belief, with the utmost of respect, to open doors, offer to carry items, to maintain his temper and act with self respect at all times. I hold my daughter to the same standards, this is after all an equal opportunity household! I catch chuckles and eye rolls from friends and family on occasion when I stop my children and ask them if there was a more respectful or responsible route that they could have taken in a situation, or if they decline seeing a movie or playing with a toy due to the over sexualization, language, or whatnot. They make these decisions of their own free will and I can’t help but feel very proud of them for this. Even as young children they have learned and continue to learn the value of self respect and respecting others, being honest, and caring… etc. It never fails to astonish me when they show such tremendous maturity and thought. I am blessed to have such wonderful children!
Why are these traits on an endangered list? Why aren’t they more embraced and celebrated in our society today?
A gentleman embodies the following traits freely:
Honesty
Reliability
Humility
Prudence
Having a genuine passion and joy for life
Now, if only the idea of a society filled with gentlemen were to find its revival… ah what a joy that would be!
For more on Gentlemanly Characteristics please visit Chap Talk, a great blog written by Robert and Jennifer Grundulis, all about the life and lessons of a real gentleman.
Sitting at breakfast today B’s voice cracked. He immediately blushed and began rambling about his current situation:
and purple paints. The day of the party I lined the rib cage with foil and filled it with pulled pork. It would have presented a bit better laid onto a silver platter lined with greens, but again – that pesky time thing. The
washed, latex gloves with water and freeze, do the same for a cheap face mask with the eye and mouth holes covered. Floating the ice face/hands in the water adds a nice effect, as the face/hands melt, your victim appears to drown in the punch. I found labels for condiment bottles, salt and pepper shakers, drink bottles, etc that said things like Black Widow Venom, Eye of Newt, etc I printed them on photo paper and applied them to containers/bottles/etc.
It started out innocently enough; I thought it was a cold! I woke up on Wednesday morning feeling a little out of sorts, by that night I had a stuffy head. That was it, until Friday. In my household I don’t have time to be sick. If I’m down and out, who will cook, do the laundry, and chase away dust bunnies? No one, thats who. My immune system wasn’t cooperating. By mid day Friday I felt like death warmed over. It was bad. I’ve never felt so sick in my life. B (my 13 yr old) kept asking me if I felt ok and ordering me to bed. In true Mom fashion, I refused and pushed through the rising fever and body aches until the room began to spin around 2 pm. That was it, I was toast. I went to bed and didn’t move again until Monday. When I finally crawled out of my germ filled pit, I found the kids had done their best to take care of themselves, cooking and cleaning in true teen fashion… meaning that things were everywhere. I didn’t have the energy to say anything. I moved from my bed to the couch, where I stayed for the next 4 days, exceptions only being necessity. All in all though, the kids did a great job. They were wonderful caretakers; almost too wonderful. By the time I was feeling half human again, E (my 12 yr old) was showing signs of the crud, B soon followed.
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