Sunday, February 24, 2008

Februarys and Mondays Always Get Me Down

Ah, yes. It’s February…the shortest month of the year that also feels like the longest. Why don’t I like February? Is it the cold? The fact that it’s a hard month to spell? The rats? Did you know that this February is going to be worse than most? It’s leap year, that’s why! That means twenty-nine days of February, instead of the typical twenty-eight. Sorry to be the one to tell you that, but I thought you might need time to prepare yourself.

Here’s a question that nobody’s asking: Why can’t we add that day to April or June, which only have 30 days in them? They’re nice months, let’s keep them going. There’s even room to take on another day. How come nobody has thought of this? You’d think they had other things to do, or something!

And what’s with all these Mondays we keep getting? This Monday was President’s Day so the kids didn’t have school. That means my Monday was even more fun than usual (being a stay-at-home mom, I don’t get President’s Day off, or any other day, for that matter). Not only did I have to readjust my sleeping pattern, which makes me cranky, and then do several chores I’d put off over the weekend (e.g., shower and change my underwear), I had to do them while my kids turned the house into a disaster zone. Apparently, the President heard the bad news and is coming out to tour our house this week. We might even be eligible for Federal relief.

I’ve also been getting a lot of bills this month. Not from Christmas. Those came in January…another month I don’t like. No, these are medical bills. If you’ve been a follower of my blog, you know that my husband messed up his wrist last Fall. I was convinced he had broken yet another bone. I was right. They had to do an MRI to find it, but find it they did. It was this teensy, tiny bone that people who break every bone in their body never break. The doctor, who has specialized in wrists for thirty years, wasn’t even sure if this bone had a name. And my husband broke it. I’m so proud! I think they should name it after him.

Then my middle child, who has inherited his father’s penchant for doing strange things to himself, tripped on the blanket he was wearing over his head at the time, cracked his skull a good one on the piano stool my husband was sitting on, and now sees colored spots all the time. Of course, we didn’t realize the head injury had caused this problem. He cried, my husband put ice on it, he seemed fine. No throwing up or weaving around or passing out. We didn’t think anything of it. Maybe a week after that he told us that he was having trouble seeing at school. We gave him the third degree about it and decided the poor kid must be very nearsighted (he told us he thought it began when school had started, when you actually have to look at something far away). Okay, so we set up an eye appt. for the end of January. Turns out, his eyes are fine. We asked him again. When do you think this started? Oh, when I hit my head, he says. My husband and I just stared at him for several seconds. Hit your head? We had forgotten about that. Why didn’t he say this a month ago? So we started to freak out. We’re imagining the worst. He’s been walking around with a cracked skull for a month. Or maybe it’s bleeding in there. Or brain damage has short-circuited his visual cortex! We called a nurse. She goes over his symptoms with me. Nothing severe stands out so we agree to get him in on Monday to see our family doctor. That was Friday. Next morning. I notice that his pupils are uneven sizes - not a good sign. We call the doctor. Turns out when you get your eyes dilated, that can happen. But…she says, you better bring him in. So we bring him to the ER. Someone who works there was going over the paperwork and said, "They’re bringing him in a month later?" She didn’t realize I was standing there. So, the poor woman taking information from me had to hear the whole story. We weren’t being neglectful! We didn’t realize this started when he hit his head. She was appropriately sympathetic. Anyway, he ends up getting a CT-scan and it looks okay. Good news, right? In a way. No cracks, bleeding, damage or tumors. So why is he still seeing spots? What the heck is going on? Well, we get to go see a pediatric neurologist in April to find out. Yes, I said April. I hate trying to get into specialists.

But that’s another blog.

So we have bills up the ying-yang, coming from everybody, even if they just looked at him. I think someone in the waiting room even sent us a bill. And now we get to pay those bills. In February. I think I’ll just put them on the credit card and deal with the whole thing in March. March is still cold and dreary, but there’s hope because April is around the corner. I can handle things better then.

On the plus side, things continue to go well for my book. People are still buying it, anyway. If you feel any inclination, I’d appreciate it if you gave me a glowing, 5-star review on Amazon. You might as well do my book, too, while you’re there. But probably only if you’ve read it and liked it. Also, if you have the power, a movie deal would be nice.

I have finally finished editing book two of the Chronicles (The Return to Anaedor) and have moved onto editing book three (The Lost Ones), while continuing to finetune The Return. Plus, I’m 150 pages into my next series. I’m using my three boys as characters, only older. I think, though, that my youngest is going to get the short end of the stick, character-wise. He’s three. I’ve yet to separate the three-ness of him from what he’s actually going to be like when he’s older. But I’m trying. At the very least, I’ll make him quirky. I don’t think that part of him is going to go away. In fact, all my kids are kinda quirky. I didn’t realize how strange they were until I put it down on paper. I wonder where they get it from?

Anyhoo, to those of you who hate Mondays and Februarys like I do, there’s only 9 more days left in February, and only one of them is a Monday. Hang in there, keep your chin up, and find ways to get through it! I suggest baking cookies, and then sending them to me.

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