Goodness, Conor has been a very sick kid. He was supposed to spend the night at a friend's house Saturday--friend's mom called us at about 8:30 and said he was running a fever. Darren picked him up and that was the beginning of the downhill slide. He started puking on Monday and went to the doctor yesterday. he has the flu, tonsilitis, and an ear infection. He hasn't been to school or wrestling practice this week and probably won't make it to his wrestling meet this weekend.

Last night I was convinced he needed to go to the ER. I couldn't get his fever to come down. He was hallucinating or talking in his sleep or something. I was worried he would start having convulsions. It's a good thing that Darren is the voice of reason around here.

Work just keeps getting more and more bizarre. I'm hoping some things blow over, but really, one of the reasons I love my job is because it really brings the crazy. Just a little less crazy please!

I downloaded a Counting Crows song. Worse, I'm listening to it over and over. I'm so gross I can barely live with myself. But I love it. Really though, I'm much more embarassed by this than by my little Justin Timberlake obsession. C'mon--the Counting Crows? How much worse can it get? Don't answer that. The song is "A Long December", for what it's worth.

Fine, I just switched to Pearl Jam. My mind is clearing. Thirty minutes of Counting Crows is enough.

I messed up big at work. I think I'll edit this just to be safe. No need to court trouble.

You know, my job would be difficult under the best circumstances. But there are several extra layers of bullshit that I have to deal with on an almost daily basis that make things even weirder. Normally it doesn't get to me, but right now I'm very tired of the racism and sexual harassment and the workload and ineptitude and total lack of caring and the constant lack of support and excuse-making.

Phew. Maybe I just needed to vent.

Work is a litte frustrating right now. I feel overwhelmed, criticized, and directionless. I need to find a way to stop taking crazy shit to heart. Or I need to write a book about working on a reservation.

Really, I need to be paid beaucoup to sit on my couch in my pajamas and blog about making cheese. That would be ideal right now. Honestly, though, I'd probably miss adult human contact and go crazy after about six months.

Sometimes I think about getting my master's in Social Work or Psychology and becoming a counselor. Can't really afford to go back to school right now, though.

The kids and Darren are great. Working out is great. Here's a weird thing though--I keep gaining and losing the same three pounds--most of the time within a day. That can't be normal. I wonder if my thyroid is still wonky.

What an excellent weekend. It's a pity we have to go back to school and work.

We had sort of a weird experience today though, and I'm not sure what to do about it.

We went to the rec center to work out this morning, and took the kids and their friends--a brother and sister that are Anna's and Conor's ages. In fact, Anna has known the sister since she was four, so eight years.

Now, these kids don't have a great life at all. They're being raised by their great-grandparents because they've been taken away from their mom and their grandmother was in no way able to care for them. It's a pretty sad situation, really.

So while we were working out, all four kids went swimming. They're old enough to be at the pool by themselves, according to the rec center rules. As far as we knew, everything was just peachy.

Once we finished, we rounded up three of the kids--Anna's friend met up with another friend and decided to stay longer. As we were leaving, I noticed a large scratch on onse side of Conor's neck, and a bunch of small ones on the other side of his neck.

I asked both of my kids what happened, and at first they denied any knowledge. It was obvious to me that they knew exactly what the scratches were from, though. It took about five minutes of convincing them I knew something was wonky, and they finally told me the truth.

Apparently Anna's friend decided it would be funny to hold Conor underwater. She held him by the neck with enough strength and viciousness to scrape him. Anna did nothing to defend her brother--in fact, she encouraged it.

Once Conor broke away and they saw the scratches, Anna asked Conor to lie about what happened because she knew I'd be pissed.

So we all piled into the car to take the brother home. No one was there. He's not old enough to stay home by himself. So we trundled him around while we did some errands, tried to track down another grandma, checked back at his house, and overall spent about 2 hours trying to figure out what to do with him. Finally, we located a grandma (not the great-grandma, though) and dropped him off with her.

What a mess. This is actually the second time we've been unable to drop the brother off after he's been with us. I feel badly for the kids, but between the sister's weirdness and the lack of adult concern, I'm having a difficult time convincing myself that we'll invite the kids to go anywhere with us again...

I'm not a big Valentine's Day fan, but this has to be the most creative proposal ever.

So yeah, Anna gets to go to D.C. this summer. I'm still really excited and impressed. She just needs to come up with $400, which should be easy between fundraising and what we can give her. She'll miss the Russell AND Davidson family reunions, but hey.

Work is getting weirder and more stressful. Really, I just want to stay home and make cheese all day.

Speaking of cheese, we tried some a few days ago. It was probably too early, but I just couldn't wait any longer. The Tewksbury was excellent and amazing and very creamy and yummy. The Mesa Jack was a bit dry, for some reason, but still good. The Caerphilly was tangy and very good. Overall, not bad at all, especially since they're among my first attempts.

Holy Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Anna is going to Washington D. C. this summer. Out of 300? 400? kids in her school, only 12 were chosen. Wow. Now we just need to come up with the cash. I'm just so proud. What a kid.

So in the grand tradition of gym horror stories (hi, Suz!), I saw an odd thing last week. A young lady came in, started up a treadmill, covered up the timer dealie with a magazine, and ran full-tilt. She was wearing long johns, flannel pajama bottoms, a hoodie with the hood on, a raincoat, wool mittens, and a wool hat. She started right after I started, and was still running over an hour later when I left. At one point she was hanging onto the treadmill for dear life, but still running running running. I kept a close eye on her because I was convinced she was going to pass out and fall. I haven't seen her again, but maybe she is going earlier or later.

We had a grand time in Farmington. I mean, it's Farmington, which isn't exactly a garden spot. But it was very nice to get out of town, eat out, and see a few movies. Anna and I loved "Juno" but Conor hated every second. Conor loved "Meet the Spartans", but Anna and I were indifferent to it. The doggy boys went to my mom and dad's for the first time ever, and that went pretty well. They were very spoiled--they even got to sleep on Mom and Dad's bed!

Anna needs a new cell phone and about 6 pairs of jeans. Conor needs new shoes and some workout clothes for wrestling. Parenting sure isn't cheap. Good thing I love them so much.

I'm not going to work today, and you can't make me. I'm going to curl up on the couch with my new llama (thanks, sissy!), watch all the bad daytime TV I can stomach, and cook and clean.

It fucking snowed AGAIN. C'mon, this is ridiculous. Did someone not get the memo about this being the DESERT?!

Three good things? Fine, four.
1. Not going to work.
2. My new llama.
3. Getting to spend the night in a hotel tomorrow night!
4. I've lost three pounds!

I have several chronic diseases, and I could use them as excuses. But I don't and I never will.

Really, the furthest I've ever gone exploiting myself is writing a rather nice essay about my chronic diseases for my reading and writing non-fiction class a few years ago. By the way, I got an A on the essay. And an A in the class. The class made me feel as if I could write well, and could write to entertain, which is sort of a curse. Sorry you all have to suffer that end.

Anyway. I've even been told by my doctor that I could file for disability and live off the governement. But is that living? I want to live, and live well. I want to be in control of my life.

I don't want to blame another person or a disease or a situation or anything else for how I live my life. My life is my responsibility, and I'm happy to accept it.

I didn't stay up for Project Runway last night and now I'm very bummed. Richie Rich, former Club Kid and current Heatherette designer, was guest judge. That alone would have been worth it for me to stay up until midnight. Thank goodness Bravo reruns every show a million times.

I had to pay $106 for Anna's new prescription of Concerta. And that was for 30 of them AND after insurance. It had better make her get into Harvard on a full scholarship next week--otherwise we're switching back to good old, cheap, effective, Ritalin as soon as this bottle is gone.

I'm still all butthurt about not being called when work was closed yesterday. I'm sulking in my office and rationalizing a blog post because it's not 8:00 quite yet.

Guess I better think of three good things real quick.
1. My daughter is just so awesome.
2. My son is adorable.
3. We will have awesome flowers this spring.

Wow, I don't even know why I haven't posted in so long. No reason, really, except for life.

It's snowed off and on since about Thursday. We really got dumped on yesterday. The kids didn't have school and my work was closed today. Here's a picture Anna took last night:


Well, that doesn't really do it justice but let's just say we have a shit-ton of snow. It almost covers the fire hydrant on our corner, and let me tell you that is a lot of snow for this area. I've lived here 20 years and have never seen so much snow.

And the highlight of my day? Was driving out to work this morning to discover that the tribe was closed. Somehow, some way, every other tribal employee knew. 300 + employees knew, and I didn't. Niiiiiice. It really just confirms that I'm screwed without my boss. It also brings all sorts of lame self-esteem issues up. Ultimately, it makes me feel totally unvalued and unworthy at the same time. I hate feeling lame and useless, but it's pretty easy for me to feel that way. I need to work on that, I guess.

I found out why I gained so much weight so quickly. My thyroid was all out of whack. So hopefully that is being fixed. We've been working out almost every night at the rec center, so that should help too. I'm so tired of being fat.

Unfortunately, the chicken-fried steak we cooked tonight probably won't help matters. It sure was good, though.


Let's see, what else. Conor's wrestling again this year. That started up a few weeks ago. Anna is applying for a school trip to Washington D. C. with her middle school. I really hope she gets to go. We're spending the weekend in Farmington, NM. I wishit were somewhere more exotic and warm, but it's about all we can afford.

I made colby cheese yesterday. It turned out really well, from what I can tell.

And because this is gonna already be a bitch to load, here's a super-cute picture of the best dog ever!