We got more bugs than Windows Vista

Last week was not one fit for scrapbooking. The stomach bug overstepped its bounds and found its way into every muscle in my body. I was sicker than a new skateboard trick.

The thing that really bothers me about it all is that it hit every other member of my family and they weathered it much better than I did. It really leads me to question my commitment to fitness.

For Neal, "the bug" arrived weeks ago and was a prelude to what the rest of us could expect. He came out of it relatively unscathed after 24 short hours. When the remainder of us appeared healthy almost two weeks later, we thought we had dodged a bullet.

Not so. For my son, it reared its pukey head two Fridays ago, in the middle of the night. We had all attended the varsity football game just hours before the inaugural spew, and my son participated in his normal fourth-grade activities. He and his "gang" of friends roamed the stadium, alternately shoveling nachos and Skittles into their mouths, and playing pick-up games of tackle football behind the concession stand. He was warned numerous times by his father that those superfluous snacks would come back to haunt him at a later time but to no avail.

So, hours later as we slept peacefully in our beds, my son left his and stood in the doorway of our bedroom to proclaim his nausea and impending vomit episode. Then, the dam broke. It was as if his words were in a foot race with the digested contents of his stomach to see which one could leave his mouth the fastest.

I'll make this observation: nothing awakens you like the sound of wretching followed by liquid hitting concrete. I shot up out of bed and tried to tell my son to move the show into the bathroom but all I could manage to say was "Ahhhhhhh! Ahhhhh!" Neal went directly into "medical student internship" mode. He was absolutely on autopilot as he calmly walked into the kitchen to get the cleaning supplies and led our son by the arm into the bathroom. No words were uttered...he just took command of the situation.

I can hardly blame myself for my lack of coping skills. Neal has a clear advantage based on all those years he slept lightly on a cot at Texas Childrens Hospital, subconciously awaiting disaster to strike. The most experience I can claim is being mentally on-call for whatever my college roommate's friends would bring to our apartment at any and all hours (two situations in particular come to mind...one involves me being locked inside our upstairs apartment on a Saturday while D and her other friends went tubing down the Comal and the other involves an incident that was covered by the local news. Good times, huh D?) I learned to be on my toes during the course of those years but much like my tolerance for alcohol, it has gone by the wayside.

But I digress.....

My son made a brilliant and speedy recovery the next day, even trying to convince me that he was well enough to accompany his friend to Austin for some Halloween costume shopping. We argued briefly but I think even he knew that it was not a good idea to be in the middle of a crowded Party City in the event that hurling should re-ensue. Luckily, it never did.

Things remained relatively calm until Wednesday morning when I awoke being repulsed by the idea of a bowl of cereal. On any normal day, the kitchen is my second destination after getting out of bed but not that day. I waved the white flag and camped out in our bedroom for the next 24 hours. One thought haunted me throughout the day -- my daughter had sipped from my Coke Zero the day before.

Predictably, my daughter was complaining of nausea before she even made it through the school day on Wednesday. Of course, since she is such a confident individual, she was positive she could combat it with a magical combination of Tylenol, Ondansitron, and a good solid night of sleep and still make it to school on Thursday.

Needless to say, she slept from 9:00 pm Wednesday night until 1:00 pm on Thursday. (When I arrived in her room that morning to wake her up for school, she barely acknowledged my existence.)

Friday she was well enough to go to school and cheer in the pep rally. I was still dragging booty, however, and still am to some degree. At this point, I'm brimming with resentment. It's not like I want everyone else to be miserable -- I just want some healing parity.

The one bright spot is that I finally got rid of those last couple of pounds I've been struggling with. (Yes!)

Things are changing....'my friends"

Where did September go??? I know it's a tired cliche, but true nonetheless.

I think the alarm sounded when this dichotomous weather set in. I go to bed at night toasty as a Quizno's sub and wake up feeling like I'm in a cheap hotel room with an overzealous air conditioner because Neal is committed to sleeping with the windows open. As if I didn't have enough trouble getting out of bed as it was....now, it requires psychological prep. Anyone who knows me knows how much I hate to be cold. There's a reason I tolerate Texas summers...to benefit from Texas winters. It's the only investment I can bank on right now.

To all of you who have donated to my son's Walk for Diabetes fund, I'm giving you a cyber-hug. This is such an important disease to conquer because of the long-term damage it does to the body. My son's doctor is confident that a cure can be found within the next decade if a dedicated effort is made to follow up on recent developments. Again, thank you to all who have either donated or have kids who are raising money as well.

Beyond this, I've been lost in the political haze. I'm just flat-out disgusted at this point. I can't believe these two clowns topping the major party tickets are the best this country can do. I'm still waiting for the guy (or gal!) to come along who will actually follow the Constitution as intended. These two candidates have the depth of paper dolls. Obviously, I have my preference but please don't mistake it for a ringing endorsement. Even if my candidate gets elected, the American public will have to continue to play defense against his decisions.

Since it's politically incorrect to point out Obama's flaws, we have no comic relief other than what SNL has produced about Palin which I admit is pretty funny. The funniest thing I heard was when a talk radio station recently played a mock-commercial for McCain's latest "album" of songs about his "friends". The announcer would say "It contains all your favorites such as this classic..." and then they would play "I get by with a little help from my friends" by the Beatles where they would insert McCain's voice saying "my friends". I was laughing so hard, I nearly ran off the road when I heard it. Then, I went to pick up my daughter and re-enacted it for her...she agreed it was equally hilarious and made me promise not to sing it while she was drinking her Sprite. The only reason I refrained from doing so was because I didn't want to clean the Sprite/spit/snot mixture that would have been spread across the dashboard. Then, it turned into a game where we were trying to come up with other songs that contained "my friends" and doing a McCain voice. The funniest one we came up with was the Spice Girls ("If you wanna be my lover, you got to get with 'my friends').

Seriously, McCain needs to drop the words "my friends" from his vocabulary. It's just too distracting and there's no way he can get his message across with that phrase popping in every 10 seconds. (Hmmm...then again, maybe he should continue to do it for that very reason especially when talking about buying up people's mortgages.) Plus, if he keeps it up, we're going to have some raging alcoholics in this country after the next debate.

You just gotta laugh at it. That's the only survival tactic left....my friends.