- A storm knocked out our modem Friday night, and we couldn't get it fixed until Monday.
- Both girls have been sick. For three nights in a row, Jenna has had a wee-hour protein spill -- resulting in bleary-eyed bedding changes. We are getting used to hearing the washer run at 3 a.m.
- Our dryer went on strike at the end of last week, and I spent Friday afternoon at the laundromat getting all the laundry in the house done in case we couldn't get it fixed for a while. I got five loads washed, dried and folded in about an hour-and-a-half, something that would never happen at home. So it was fun, it a weird sort of way.
The modem and the dryer are fixed (thanks to the AT&T guy and Chad, respectively), so that leaves the girls. They are both home again today taking liquid Phenergan.
I'm glad I got out of the house Friday evening to scrapbook with friends, because since then, I've only left the house to go to the doctor and pharmacy. Yes, that's right. I said scrapbook. I've been meaning to start Julia's Baytown scrapbook since we got here and I can now say the project is in progress. It was fun. I got several pages into the book, hung out with church friends, ate M&Ms, and I even scored a playdate for Jenna -- which is supposed to happen this Friday, if only Jenna would stop pulling her Linda Blair imitation in the middle of the night.
The Dr. Phil show on hyperemesis last Thursday was great. My HG friends and I believe so much progress was made towards raising awareness of the disease. Just for Dr. Phil to look into the camera and say to an audience of millions, "This is NOT morning sickness" was huge. We've been trying to tell the world that for years. The hardest part for me to watch was the segment about Meagan, a woman who is battling the disease right now. This once- active and vibrant woman is now curled up under a blanket on the bathroom floor and she doesn't know when it's going to end. I was there, too, and I wish I could just zap those memories out of my brain.
On an unrelated note, "Daniel Cook" just came on Disney and I said, "He always wears that orange shirt." Julia said, "Maybe his mom never does laundry."
Despite the craziness of the last several days, I have, in segments, been able to watch "The Lake House." I wanted this movie to work. I really did. But it drags horribly and Keanu sleepwalked through most of it. I think it would have worked better as a comedy. The concept is interesting, though. Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to meet the 1986 version of your spouse? Or to talk to the teen-age version of you? I'd like to think that "Teen Deana" and I could go for a long drive (I would drive, of course, I wouldn't dream of letting her) and I would give her advice about all the things she needed to avoid to make her journey to adulthood not so messy.
But truthfully, if I ever found myself in a car with my 16-year-old self, I pretty sure I would slow down, lean over, open the passenger-side door, and push her out onto the highway.
Well, that's not entirely true.
I wouldn't slow down at all.