Let's get us a tree!

Ahhh, the annual jaunt to the Christmas tree farm. Or as I like to call it: "Let's try and make Joanne's head explode day".

It's not that I don't love our tradition (which started 9 years ago), of trekking out to a Christmas tree farm in the middle of nowhere, selecting our "perfect" tree (this one... no wait, this one. How about THIS ONE? Where's that first one again? They all freaking look the same!), and schlepping it back to our house. It's that life these days is a little more complicated, and everything rides on keeping with the schedule.

So we started out this morning by waking up late. Okay, no problem, let's just get ready as quickly as humanly possible. We piled into the car only 45 minutes behind schedule. And we were very low on gas.

But because we like to live dangerously, we pointed the car east and drove. At a very old-lady-like speed of 60 MPH. Fred has learned the hard way not to speed.

We got to the farm and ran to where the tractor picks you up for a hayride out to the field. I gave Fred, Elise and Seven very explicit instructions... we have 20 minutes to find our tree. At the end of those 20 minutes if we're not chopping something down I'm going to close my eyes, spin around and point. Whichever tree I'm pointing at, we're taking. I don't care if it's 20 feet tall.

tractor ride!

With that in mind, we were off. To my surprise, we found a tree we all agreed on quite quickly. Unfortunately, there was nobody around to take our traditional "in front of our tree before we sacrifice it in the name of Christmas" photo, so we propped the camera up on Elise's diaper bag, set the timer and ended up with not a bad picture, considering.

Our tree!

After we cut down the tree, hauled it back, paid for it and strapped it to the car, that's when the fun began. We were trying to get out of a rather small parking area when one of the cars in front of us got stuck, essentially blocking our way out.

Now I was starting to freak out. Elise is on a type of insulin that starts to peak around four hours after we give it to her (hence the keeping to the schedule thing). If she's not eating her lunch when it starts to peak, her blood sugar will drop and she could pass out or have a seizure. We had planned to leave the farm and drive about 15 minutes to Chick-fil-a for lunch. We were fast approaching her time to eat and were stuck in the parking area. But like any good D-Momma, I had some food with me and started to feed her in the car.

Luckily there was another way out, but Fred had to go down a long line of cars and tell them to back out the other way. Which commenced the poorest display of driving I have ever seen in my life. People were backing out and turning the wheel the wrong way and almost crashing into trees. Women were vacating the driver seat so their husband (or some other male) could back them out. It made me weep for my gender. We were finally free about 10 minutes later.

Now were we not only running against the clock for lunch, but to get Elise back in time for her nap. We don't miss nap time at our house for anything. Because I said so.

What followed is a comedy of errors that you can only shake your head at and laugh. We missed the exit to Chick-fil-a and it took an extra 10 minutes to turn around (due to stupid drivers in front of us, and slow, small-town lights). We were pretty much running on fumes, so we decided to fill up right after lunch. First a guy stole our pump. Then the pump we picked was on the wrong side for our car and the hose didn't stretch. Then they didn't take Amex (the card we use because we get 3% cash back). On the way home I swear the tree was going to take flight from the roof of our car at any moment.

But, we made it. They tree stayed attached to the car, Elise BG was fine (albeit a little high), and she napped for an hour and a half when we finally got home. Most importantly, my head didn't explode.

If it had, Fred wouldn't have been able to take this rather cute picture of my daughter and I.

It's not you, it's me

Have you ever had one of those days where you go to the grocery store for the second time in as many days just to get some strawberries because the last two were eaten this morning and you need them for tomorrow because that's what your daughter eats on her cereal every morning?

And for the second time in as many days the store is out of strawberries because they are selling them at a very good price which begs the question why didn't they order enough of the strawberries so they wouldn't keep running out of them?

And you say to yourself, "self, it is okay since you need to go to the other grocery store that is just up the street to get some of that yogurt your daughter likes so much. And the reason you go there to buy said yogurt is because they sell it for half the price than the store you are currently at and perhaps they will have some strawberries there.

So away you drive, sans strawberries, but full of hope that you will find them at your next destination, and you do! You do find them! And even better they are almost the same price as the other store and even better they're ORGANIC!

Practically giddy with excitement you make your way to where the yogurt is only to find they are out of the particular flavour you always buy, and all the other flavours expire in two days and you think to yourself, "self, that is a lot of yogurt for a toddler to eat in only two days."

And it is at this point in what has been a very loooooong day that you figure the universe is trying to break up with you because you hear it quietly whisper in your ear, "I love you, but I'm not in love with you."

Tip of the iceberg

They say that only about 10% of an iceberg is visible above water. Well, Thursday was my tip of the iceberg day; minuscule compared to what was going to follow.

Most of it has been detailed on my other blog because a lot of it had to do with diabetes. But here is some of what I've been dealing with:

I've been sick since Saturday with what has been determined as a sinus infection. Nay, the mother of ALL sinus infections. Sore throat, fever, muscle aches, the chills, sinus pain and pressure, head ache and now laryngitis; this puppy has had it all and left no stone unturned. Today I have absolutely no voice left and yet I'm still trying to yell at my child.

Yesterday I had the fun adventure of running out of gas. You can read the whole story here. I do have to give a huge thank you to the wonderful guys from the Irving Fire Department for all their help. Yay firemen!

Elise still has some mystery rash that seems to appear when we take her outside in the heat (not heat rash though). The doc said it looks like hives and is probably an allergic reaction. My child is allergic to the heat and we live in Texas. Now I know we're not meant to live here.

We're also going through some fun times of major sleep issues (Elise), and major separation anxiety (Fred, I mean, Elise). This has been causing huge stress around here.

I just got a letter back about some blood work I had done, saying my platelets are low, and I need to repeat the test in two months. I don't even know what that means and the letter offers no explanation. And I will not google low blood platelets because I know it will just show me some scary picture and tell me I have cancer or something.

The last two times I have bought milk for Elise, there has been something wrong with it when I opened it. Both times the milk has had the consistency of whipped cream, but it doesn't smell spoiled or anything. It was the same brand both times. And yes, I read the label properly and it should have been whole milk. So I've been without milk for Elise for two days now, and not able to run to the store to buy some. But I must say thanks to my sweet friend Liz, who brought some milk buy this morning when she came to visit. Yay Liz!

And now Fred has gone to NYC until Friday, leaving me here sick and voiceless with a sleep-deprived, rashy, missing-her-Poppa toddler.

And how has YOUR week been?

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh... crap.

Remember how I blogged about our beautiful Christmas tree that we cut down on Saturday? Remember how I said I couldn't wait to decorate it? Well, we did. And it was so pretty. And Elise didn't even pay any attention to it. She came down from her nap, looked at it, babbled something, and went on her merry way. I was so glad that I wouldn't have to worry about her messing with the tree.

We came home from dropping Fred's Mom off at the airport, and Fred walked into the living room and said something like, "well THIS doesn't look right." I followed him in to see our 9-foot Christmas tree laying on the floor, ornaments smashed beneath it, and the water from the stand poured out onto the carpet.

We put Elise in her play area, and commenced clean-up, with the lovely background music of a screaming child. Fred hauled the tree outside, where he cut a foot off the trunk. Right now our tree is hanging out in the garage until we get the energy to try again.

The good news is that although a bunch of ornaments were smashed, NONE of the ornaments that Fred and I give each other each year were broken. That would have been the kick to the groin while I was already laying on the ground in pain. You know, if I were a guy.