Calling all moms:

This is going to be about discipline. I'm on a forum for moms, and one of the hot topics right now is how to discipline your toddler. Well. We're lucky in that Livvie rarely throws tantrums anymore just for the sake of throwing tantrums. However, she DOES do things she's not supposed to, as all kids do. Here's my way of dealing with it:

I tell her no.

She stamps her foot and hollers, "DAT!!!"

I tell her I don't care.

She sometimes does it again. "DAT!!!" If this happens I tell her I don't care again. She'll either give up or throw a screaming fit. If she throws a screaming fit I ignore it. If she throws something at me she goes into time out. Usually if I ignore her she stops within a few moments, but sometimes if she's tired it escalates and I end up sticking her in her crib for a nap.

Now, I do have to admit she's gotten a couple of light spankings when she's flat out defied me and did something dangerous. And she got a good swat on the hand one time when she wouldn't stop turning the knobs on the stove. These were more about my fear than about discipline, and I know that. I can count on 3 fingers the times I've used corporal punishment on her, so I'm assuming that's not bad. I'll trust you to tell me.

So, how do YOU, or I should say DID you discipline when your kids were toddlers? And did it work? Or did you just end up more frustrated?

Bummer, Man...

Mom just left. I always miss her even more after she's been down here and she leaves. 

While she was here we:

Went to the grocery store where she spent $79 on us.

Went to Target where she spent $96 on us.

Watched Golden Girls.

Watched Turner Classic Movies. I got to see Greer Garson and Gregory Peck. That was fun.

Watched a whole lot of Law and Order, SVU.

Watched Cash Cab (are you sensing a trend?)

Played with Livvie.

Actually ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I made her scrambled eggs yesterday.

Dealt with Livvie either not napping, or napping very late in the day and going to bed late.

I think that's it.

It's nice of her to spend so much money on us but not necessary. However, a bunch of stuff she bought at Target was for Livvie's birthday, so I guess that's acceptable. She bought the groceries because she wanted to take us out to dinner, and neither Rich nor I really felt like going out to dinner this week.

Livvie is already looking for her. She recognized her when she got here, which was awesome. She was good with my mom. She didn't let her hold her, but then she barely lets me hold her anymore either. However, Rich and I were out smoking one day and Livvie clocked her head BAD, and she let my mom pick her up to comfort her. That's a Big Deal.

Sorry I've been missing all week. I'll try to do better now that I'm alone again.

Have a great Friday everyone.

I'm a girl, so sue me

So this morning I heard this buzzing sound coming from the direction of our case of water on the deck. I paid it no mind, and went back in the house. A couple of hours went by, and I went outside again. This time I happened to spy the water bottles out of the corner of my eye and noticed one of them was brown.

I walked over and saw one of the biggest bugs I have ever seen, stuck inside the plastic case, attached to one of the bottle necks. I couldn't help it, I screamed. He was at least 2 1/2 inches long, and he had enormous antennae. He was disgusting. He almost looked like one of our giant roaches, but he wasn't one. I have no idea what he was.

So I morbidly watched him struggle for a few minutes, hoping he would get out without my assistance. He didn't. So I crept over to the case of water, leaned over gingerly, and ripped the plastic away as fast as I could. I screamed when I did that as well.

I ran into the house as fast as I could.

About 30 min later I went back outside, peering around the door to get a look at the case. He was gone.

Rich was out running errands during all of this or I would have unashamedly made him do all of this. I could have waited for him to get home, and I should have waited for him to get home, but I would have been embarrassed. It was bad enough that I made him capture a giant bug in the kitchen the other day, calling him in from outside to do so.

I hate bugs.

Mom

My parents got married in 1961, and they had me in 1971. No, mom wasn't a career gal, although she had a career, it was just that they couldn't get pregnant.

My mom was diagnosed with severe endometriosis. It was terrible. She had to go in for surgery and when they opened her up they ended up having to scrape practically every organ in her abdomen. They also at one point ended up removing all of one ovary and part of the second one. They then put her on extremely high does of birth control pills, you know the ones from the 60s? More on that later. Anyway, they wanted to give her body a rest. This was 1966, and they told her that if all worked well she'd be pregnant in 5 years.

5 years. Can you imagine wanting nothing more than to be a mother and being told that total it would take 10 years for that to happen?

Anyway, She ended up pregnant in 1970. Yep, with only part of an ovary left she got knocked up. My mom turned 40, and a few months after that she had me. I was a scheduled C-Section, because I was 2 weeks late. My dad had a bowling tournament that night, and they made sure to schedule it for after he was done. I was born at 1002 pm on Wednesday, May 19th. 2 years after I was born she required a total hysterectomy, and therefore I'm an only child. Given that my mom had originally wanted 6 kids, this broke her heart. In retrospect, I shouldn't even be here.

Mom was a bit leery about being an older mother, but apparently until I became a teenager I was a very good kid. I by no means never got into trouble, but it was simple things, and I wasn't horrible. When my mother had me she quit her job of the past 22 years and stayed home with me until I went to first grade. She got a part time job working in a school system on the lunch program. Although she eventually became a secretary there, she's still working there, 31 years later. She's now 77.

About those birth control pills? Well when my mom was 52 and I was 12 she was diagnosed with breast cancer, due to the massive amounts of hormones she had been given in order to get pregnant. She informed the doctors that she had no time for cancer, as she had a young daughter and a mother to take care of. So she beat it. She had a mastectomy, no chemo, no radiation. Just informed her body that the cancer had to leave. And it did.

She's been cancer free ever since.

So in honor of my mom coming down to visit tomorrow I wanted to share some of her with you. I know that most of what happened was because she has very strong faith. VERY strong. The kind I always wanted but was never able to develop. She's a very tough woman. I can only hope and wish that someday I'll be as strong. 

My Belle

Livvie is finally sitting and watching Beauty and the Beast. I'm inordinately happy about this. Yes, Belle becomes a princess at the end, but for most of the movie she's an odd little bookworm who finds herself in curious circumstances and handles them very well.

The princess thing. Sigh. I just don't know. The only princess I wanted to be as a kid was Princess Leia, because she could fire a blaster and kill storm troopers but she still looked great in a flowing white gown. Also her hair was able to be manipulated into fascinating braids that I could never quite master, and believe me, I tried. She also strangled Jabba the Hutt with a chain. Pretty fucking cool.

I myself don't understand the appeal of princesses to little girls, unless it's the gowns. The gowns ARE quite cool. I have to admit that when it came to prom time (and I went to 3) the gown search was always the hardest bit on me. Everything was poofy, and I tried to avoid poof as much as possible. I also tried to avoid pink. It didn't work. My first gown was pink with Cinderella poofs on the sides with bows. My mother loved it. I felt like I was in drag. My second gown was far more streamlined and was ivory with some iridescence to it. It was strapless, and fell almost straight to the floor. THAT one I loved. Mom wasn't as fond of that one. When it came time for my senior prom I decided to go all out, as ridiculous as I could, and I found an emerald green and white lace Scarlett O'Hara gown that had balloon sleeves and many tiers. It was atrocious, looking back, but it made me laugh and that's all that counts.

A few years ago Nina found a gown on eBay and ordered me to buy it. It's white and has spaghetti straps, floats like a cloud, and has white beaded butterflies on the front and one strap. It's a fairy gown, and I have absolutely nowhere to wear it. I could have worn it to get married, but it would have shown off my tattoos, and my mother would have shat herself. So, it sits in a box for Livvie for her first formal dance. I'm hoping she'll like it. By the way, I won it for $14.

A friend of mine says she has the princess gowns for Livvie when she's old enough to fit into them. You know, to play dress up. I imagine this will be quite fun, as I can imagine her prancing around and ordering beheadings. Kidding. Honestly, I used to play dress up as a kid with my mom's old formals, and I would put on too big for me high heels and prance around myself. It was fun. My mom had many 194os and 50s formal dresses, and that style rocks. It's why I bought a blue dress from the 50s for my wedding. It just made me feel sassy.

So here Livvie sits watching Belle turn into Beauty and fall in love with Beast. So far she's only interested in the music. I imagine in a year I will be dressing her in a yellow gown and pulling her hair back on her neck into a ponytail. And honestly, I won't care a bit.

As long as I can get her the Batman Big Wheel too.

Seroquel

Is God Medicine.

I slept last night, not all night, but I woke up far fewer times than I have been recently. I did manage to have some Buffy dreams (Spike and I got into an argument about his newly dyed black hair being stupid looking) and woke up from those feeling confused. All in all it was a good night though.

I got out of bed at 652 and Livvie woke up at 653. That sucked. I'm so used to having time to myself in the mornings, and I really enjoy it.

Last night after I took the Seroquel I passed out in my clothing, and Rich left me that way. He could have been kind enough to wake me up so I could get changed. As it is, I'm still wearing said clothing, because even though it's 1 o clock I still haven't showered yet and have no plans to until later today.

My mom is coming down from NJ to visit with us on Monday, so I might not be around much next week. I'll try to post when I can, but they'll probably be short posts. 

Have a great Thursday everyone!

This Night of No Sleep Brought to You by The Letter H and the Number 13

At least that was going through my head.

Everything I thought of had the letter H somewhere. I then started counting to 13 over and over to try to put myself to sleep. No dice.

The fact that I noticed the letter H all over the place disturbed me, but what can you do...

That's right folks, I'm still not sleeping. The night before last I woke up at 1am and never got back to sleep. last night it was 2am. This isn't good because of two things:

A) I have to force myself to function the next morning. Granted, today I got a bunch of chores done, but in order to do so I left the majority of entertaining Livvie up to Rich.

B) This can lead to psychosis. I believe we've discussed that before.

I'm currently on 35 mg of Abilify (have you SEEN those commercials? The chick is supposed to be manic and she's calmly wandering the beach. Sorry, but manic people can't calmly do anything) and I don't know if it's going to be enough. I have a headologist appointment on the 19th, and I'm hoping I can make it that long without calling her (BTW, thank Terry Pratchett for the term "headologist." And pray for him because he has early onset alzheimers).

I'm done with parentheses for now.

In reading this back over, and realizing that I bought not one but THREE Harry Potter DVDs the other day with money I don't have, I'm coming to the conclusion that I'm already manic. That would explain the day today. Dishwasher, Laundry, Fold Laundry, Empty Dishwasher, Do More Laundry, Empty the Fridge, Bathe the Dog...

And I'm only done for the day because I'm forcing myself to be done.

I should vacuum. I know I should. But I need to relax, even though it's hard. I've been trying to have 3 IM conversations today, and I'm constantly flitting away from each of them. I just have too much to do...

So as the day goes on I get more and more energy until I have so much that I can't sleep overnight. I AM very tired, but not in the sleepy kind of way. More in the way of my body wants to lie down and give up. My brain is fine. Better than fine. My brain wants me to go.

I think I might need the Seroquel. This will guarantee that I'll gain back the 10 pounds I lost and will make damn well and sure that I'll be eating ice cream every night before bed. Is that ok? Is unhealthy and level better than healthy and dangerous? I'm thinking it is. I'm thinking tonight I take the Seroquel. And on the 19th I'll ask for more.

Again...

For Livvie's birthday I have purchased a very cool toddler's Batmobile that when you shake it and put it down on the floor it zips around. It also says cool things like, "To the Batcave!!'

I told Rich about it last night and he asked me if we were ever going to get her anything for a girl.

Excuse me, but I am a girl, and if I had gotten one of these as a kid I would have thought it was the coolest thing ever.

So we got into the discussion again. I informed him that when I was a kid I not only had Barbies but I also had Star Wars people and the Millenium Falcon. I was a well rounded kid when it came to that stuff. There were no "boy toys," just toys, and I played with all of them equally.

I had Matchbox cars and these really cool cars where if you pulled the tab out of the back and set them down on the floor they would race across the room. Remember those? They were awesome.

My favorite toy from the carnival was the parachute man, the little plastic guy attached to a plastic parachute and if you tossed it up in the air it would come floating down. I really dug that one.

But, I also went through the girly horse phase and had bunches of Breyer horses. I've already started buying Breyer horses for Livvie, and so far we have Barbaro and Secretariat. I imagine she'll also go through the horse phase that almost all little girls seem to go through. I hope so at least.

A friend of mine got her the Wonder Woman and Batgirl Barbies, and I'm really excited for the day when she starts to play with those. She also has a Storm (X-Men) action figure. Strong women who kick ass.

She has baby dolls but she doesn't play with them. She simply tosses them around the room. Personally, when I was a tiny tot, I didn't have much interest in baby dolls either, I certainly didn't push them around in a baby carriage or carry them around like I was their mama. I had one that would walk if you turned it on, and that one scared the shit out of me.

So, I don't see the problem here. I really don't. Is there really an issue with the types of toys we give her? It's not like I wanted a boy or anything and am trying to turn her into one. I just remember how I was as a kid, a tomboy of sorts, and I want that for her as well.

Besides, super heroes are cool.

Post #2: WOOHOO!!!

My Lamictal went generic.

It's now known as Lamotrigine. It was easier to say Lamictal.

Regardless, It's only $20 a month instead of $40.

This rocks. Truly.

I ran out yesterday and didn't have one to take this morning so Rich stopped at the pharmacy on the way home from work and picked up my scrip. I had requested generic if they could get it, and lo and behold they did. 

It's such a small thing to get excited about, I know, but still, there it is.

Have a great Sunday!

Sunday Loneliness

Although I am spending the day with Miss Thang there on the left, I really have nothing to do and no one to talk to today. No adult conversation whatsoever. That sucks.

Nina is in SC.

BFF is in Boston.

Jmac is in Pittsburgh.

Rich is at work.

Mom is at Mass, and will be attending a show later in the day.

These are the people I talk to all day every day when I need baby breaks. And trust me, I DO need them. I love my kid, but there's only so much I can take of trying to teach her words and watching her run back and forth. 

I might even lose my mind today. Seriously. Yesterday, thank goodness, Cyn showed up online and I got some adult conversation for awhile so that helped. I also emailed for a bit with Rich while he was at work, but he was very busy, so he couldn't be expected to keep me "company."

I am occasionally uncomfortable with my own company. Probably because if I remain undistracted for too long I end up thinking too much, and thinking leads to worry, and worry leads to panic. This is why it drives me crazy when I can't sleep. I just can't shut my head off.

So I'm not sure what to do today. I wouldn't feel right sitting here reading a book and letting Livvie play by herself, but a book is what I need. I need to just fall into something and escape. A movie just won't cut it. Unless I put on ROTK, but it seems even lonelier to do that without Nina watching it on her end as well. At one point while watching ROTK via IM we had turned each movie into a drinking game, and on long afternoons (prior to my marriage) we would sit and watch and get completely hammered. I often miss those days. 

And right now I miss adults. Thank goodness Rich is off all of this coming week so I can have a distraction.

PS... If Dagny could get back online for a bit that would help as well. I mean, I know you have a life and all, but it's ME!!!

Oh dear

So last night Rich went to the gas station to buy beer. The kid who bought the truck was behind the counter, and the night manager was there. The night manager asked Rich whatever had become of the truck, and Rich said, "I sold it to the kid." Manager said, "What kid?" Rich pointed and said, "That kid." At this point he noticed the kid making NO motions with his hands and head.

So why wouldn't he want the manager to know he had bought a truck?

We can only think of one reason, and it ain't pretty.

When he bought the truck he handed us 9 100 dollar bills and the rest was in 20s. OLD 20s. Nothing new like you get at the bank.

So.

Now I'm freaked out that we might have accepted stolen cash for our truck, and we already paid the truck off with it.

I hope we're wrong. I really, really hope so.

Cheaters

The Discovery Channel cheats.

Sunday night they had a Mythbusters Shark Week special on. They replayed it Wednesday.

Tuesday night they had the Dirty Jobs shark special on.

They're replaying it tonight.

Now, come on. With 365 (or so) days to prepare since last year's Shark Week you can't come up with 2 more original shows to help fill out the week?

It's bad enough that they replay ALL of them on the Saturday of Shark Week. I mean, that's how I catch up with the ones I sleep through, but how many hours is this gonna fill now?

Oh, and the 10pm offering tonight? A Dirty Jobs shark special from a previous year.

Don't get me wrong, I love me some Mike Rowe, and hell, I won't even be up for the 10pm offering anyway. It's just the principle of the thing.

Done complaining. Will blog for real tomorrow.

My friend

My friend Cyn received a phone call this morning of a terrible nature. Cyn had just gotten home from a long trip to Norway and England, and her ferrets Emma and George were being babysat.

At 930 this morning Cyn learned that Emma had passed away either last night or early this morning.

Safe Crossing, dear Emma. You were so loved. There's a gaggle of furbabies waiting at the Bridge to guide you home.

Short Post

Last night I forgot to put my daily two cans of Coke Zero into the fridge for this morning.

When I realized my error it was already 645 this morning, and I had already finished my cup of coffee and was about to move onto my Cokes.

I put one in the freezer and one in the fridge. I figured I'd leave the freezer one in for 45 min and have it at 730 while taking my meds.

At 715 I realized that I could put ice in a glass and pour the soda over it.

Have a great day everyone. 

Goodbye

This morning we sold the truck.

The kid up at the gas station bought it. We weren't sure if it was going to work out because last night when Rich went up to talk to him he told Rich that he had spoken to his mechanic and the guy said it sounded like the starter. Given that Rich had explained several times that the engine needed a rebuild this was worrisome. It wasn't unexpected though as English is the kid's second language, so he simply didn't understand.

This morning he arrived at 830 and brought his mechanic with him, thank the Gods. Rich explained everything to the mechanic and the mechanic explained everything to the kid in Spanish. They stood around and contemplated for quite some time, while the mechanic told him that for $2k he could drop a new/used engine into it.

The kid decided to buy the truck anyway.

So he handed over $2300, the final $200 to be given to us when we hand over the title, and that was that.

Today at some point a tow truck will arrive to take my baby away.

At least I'll get to visit it on days when the kid works at the station. That's gonna be so weird.

Have a great Tuesday. Catch ya tomorrow.

No More

No more talk about cars until we actually have one in our driveway. No more hoping and wishing that I'll get back on the road anytime soon. No more requests for good luck for me, as the wishes received aren't really working.

No more.

But thank you all just the same.

Here's how I spent my day yesterday:

Yes, I did. I left the TV off until about 1pm, and then I put on Discovery and watched sharks all day. ALL day. I was still watching sharks in bed last night. All of the shows pre-9pm were ones I had seen in seasons past, but I didn't care. I loves me some sharks.

The Great White is my favorite because I think it has a cute face. Yeah, I know that sounds weird, but I really do find it adorable when it isn't ripping something apart.

Have you ever seen Air Jaws? If you haven't, rent it. It's all about the Great Whites of South Africa that breach the water like whales when they're attacking their prey from below (see photo on right). It's utterly fascinating. I know Netflix has it and you can add it to your queue, so I would do so. Seriously. It makes for a wonderful hour of entertainment.

Today at 9am the Discovery Channel will go on again, and once again my day will be saturated with sharks. I believe the Shark Week Dirty Jobs special is on tonight, and I absolutely HAVE to stay up for that. Every year Mr Rowe does a great job with the topic.

Have a great Monday everyone. :)

Boo Hiss

Well, the dealership wouldn't sell us the car without my mom actually being here in person.

They refused to fax her the paperwork to be signed or even to FedEx it to her. They said it wasn't worth their time.

So.

We found another dealership that actually WILL do the above. They'll FedEx her the paperwork, have her FedEx it back, and it'll be a done deal. Problem is, the Yaris isn't available anywhere. It's in such high demand that it's backordered for several months. I can't go several months without a vehicle, so today Rich is going to go look at a white Toyota Corolla at said dealership and see what's what with that. He'd prefer a hatchback to a sedan, and a manual to an automatic, but whatever. It's only going to be a commuter car.

Plus, Corollas are excellent cars. This one only has 29k+ miles on it, so it's still under manufacturer's warranty. Plus this particular dealership offers a lifetime limited warranty for as long as you own the car. That'll work.

I'm still pissed about the first dealership, because it was a waste of time and gas for Rich to go out there yesterday. It's not like it's right around the corner.

So wish us luck on the Corolla now. Hopefully Rich will like it enough. I'm so sick of all of this I could barf.

Happy Sunday everyone!

Ok

Rich is on his way to the dealership to order a white Toyota Yaris hatchback. It will use the full $16k of our loan plus tax, tags, and doc fees. Oh well. I was hoping to spend about $14k on something.

Supposedly this vehicle gets 36mpg highway, and some people get up to 45. We'll see. Rich drives highway to get to work, and our Ford Escape will be my car and our weekend car, so really this is only going to be a commuter vehicle. Good enough for that I suppose.

Unfortunately he now has to handle the dealership. You all know how that goes. He's planning to be a dick if things don't go his way, and tell them that he'll just go to the other dealership where they offer a lifetime limited warranty. Hopefully that'll get him out the door with some cash to spare.

The kid who wants the truck is coming by this coming week to buy it apparently. I'm still not certain he's serious, or that he has $2600 in cash to spend. He works in a convenience store for crying out loud, and I know for a fact that this particular one only pays $8 an hour. And we will ONLY take cash. No personal checks. We don't want to end up fucked.

We'll see how all of this goes. I hate car shopping. Absolutely hate it. It's worse than when I went house hunting with the Ex. It really is.

Have a great Saturday. Catch y'all tomorrow.

My Father

Nina's loss has gotten me thinking about my father's last day here on earth.

I was 11 years old, and I woke up in the morning and went to feed my hamster which we had purchased at the store not long before. I was utterly surprised when I discovered 5 baby hamsters in the Habitrail with her. I ran down the steps hollering that I was a grandmother. We then decided to call my father to give him the news (my parents had split when I was 7).

I called my dad and was telling him about the news, but he wasn't making much sense. I put my mom on the phone. She listened for a moment, and then she kept saying, "Jule. Jule! Julian!"

So she bundled me into the car and we rode over to his apartment to check on him.

She made me wait in the car while she let herself into his apartment. She was in there for about 10 minutes, when a police car came to a stop right behind us. The policeman went into the apartment too. I was wondering what was going on. Daddy was a cop, and it might have just been a visit coinciding with ours, but I wasn't sure.

An ambulance then arrived. My mom came out of the house and told me that my dad was very sick and had to go to the hospital. At this point the policeman came out of the house to drive me home. I sat in the back seat, worried about my dad, but asking the policeman about all of the gadgets and gizmos in his car. He turned the siren on for me for a second, and that was cool. When I got into the house I went about my business, hanging out with my grandmother and waiting for my mom to get home.

Mom didn't get home until after dark. She walked into the house and sat me down on the sofa. She said that there was something she had to tell me. Then she said the words, "Daddy's gone."

I couldn't comprehend at first what she was talking about, and then it dawned on me. The anger was immediate. I ran over to the Christmas tree and started attacking every present he had given me that year. It was January 15th, 1983. His 47th birthday had been January 5th. His presents were still under the tree too.

My grandmother was crying in a corner. I started crying finally, but still held on to my anger. I was PISSED. How dare he do this to me.

The funeral was planned, and one of our concerns was that at that time there were no black clothes out there for an 11 year old to wear. I'm sure that by this day and age things have changed. We found a black velvet skirt that I wore with a white turtleneck, and I proceeded to go to the viewing. During this entire time my mom had to be heavily medicated with Buspar, because she was falling apart on a regular basis. She was drugged at the viewing as well.

When we got there I noticed an honor guard at the casket on either side. They were posted there for the 24 hours between the day of the viewing and the funeral the next day. Full dress uniform. It would have been impressive if I hadn't been so miserable.

I went up to the casket to say goodbye and noticed that my dad didn't have his glasses on. He ALWAYS fell asleep with his glasses on, so it looked totally foreign to me. I wasn't happy with it at all.

The next day my father was buried. They gave him a 21 gun salute, and as they removed the flag from his casket and folded it they handed it to my dad's mother. She turned and handed it to me. I still can't bear the sound of rifle shot.

A few months later I found my mom crying in her room. She told me that she had lied to me. She said that Daddy had already been dead when we arrived at the apartment. His will was lying out on his bureau, and when she found him he had a smile on his face. The reason we had gone over to his place was because when my mom had spoken to him that morning he had kept repeating the same word over and over again. "Xanadu." It had totally freaked her out. She couldn't even hear the word anymore (the movie was then out) without crying.

I told her that in tales Xanadu was the ultimate paradise. Maybe he had seen what was coming. Maybe he had been making a request.

Regardless, it took 20 years for me to get over my anger. On the 20th anniversary of his death I decided to just let it go. 

The autopsy said that he had died of Emphysema complicated by malnutrition. My father essentially starved to death. Apparently people with emphysema have no appetites and can't eat. The ironic thing is that when we cleaned out his apartment we found the kitchen packed full of food. He had at least been trying.

So that's my tale for today. I hope everyone has a lovely Friday, and a wonderful weekend.

I'm Not Here Today

My friend Nina lost her father last night. I am guest posting on her blog, HERE, because she's in no condition to do it herself or even have much to say. Please visit her blog and give her some love. She needs it.

Love to you all,

Julie