This cracked me up! I love people who find unique ways to use their talents. This one’s a hoot.
One of my diaper bag friends already has one the rest of us are threatening to get them. Although not normally my style, this would be a fun shocker piece for my small town.
Too funny!
“Why would you ever need to by more than one package of these in your lifetime?” —- My Husband
I live with 2 little germ magnets. If it is going around, one of them will pick it up and then share it with the other who in turn will share it with my husband and I. Zicam reditabs have become my friend.
The last 2 weeks we have been visited by the dreaded winter cold, runny nose, weepy eyes, and a cough. Little Brother passed it to Big Sister who shared it with Daddy & I.
Despite my best efforts to keep him doped upon decongestants, it got into the little guy’s ears. He has a rather unique way of letting me know he has an ear infection. Most kids get a fever, or start tugging at their red ears. Him, he wakes up crying in the middle of the night. Both my kids are GREAT sleepers (Praise the Lord and anyone else involved), so for him to wake up, something has to be wrong. The problem, is he won’t tell me his ears hurt. He cries for a lost toy or an adult who is not currently present (pick one Grammy, Grandpa, Uncle David, his preschool teacher) doesn’t matter who it is, they aren’t in his room at that moment and ain’t no way I’m gonna wake ‘em. Hell I’m NOT EVEN AWAKE.
In my stupor, it doesn’t occur to me to ask him what hurts until the 3rd trip in. “My EARS” he wails. A dose of children’s ibuprofin and we all can complete our night’s slumber in peace. The next day, a trip to the doctor confirms ANOTHER double ear infection. We kind of caught this one early, so we *might* squeak by with just one round of anti-biotics.
So much for effective decongestants. Yeah, I know the size of his ear canal plays a part in it, but ever since the meth heads forced psudophedrine into hiding behind the pharmacy counter and parents who can’t read labels ended production of cold meds for the under 6 crowd, you can’t find a children’s decongestant that is worth a box of tissues.
Since I was going to the pharmacy for an The Pink Stuff anyway, I asked about getting real live honest to goodness psudophedrine in a form my kids can take. Turns out I am out of luck for the little one, but the big one is old enough to take psudophedrine (the little red pill). Yahoooo!!!! I whipped out my license and plunked my money down for a 48 pack. Before you meth heads start jonesin’ for my supply, it is under lock and key.
When I got home, I gave one pill to Big Sister along with a does of plain old Robitussen. Ah, the miracles of modern medicine! We may just dodge an ear infection with her. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
Despite my Zicam regimen and an effort to get some extra sleep, the sniffles crept up on me. I added that little red beauty to my list of daily meds and you know what? It really does work better than whatever is currently impersonating as the little red pill on the shelves in the drug store aisle.
Sadly my husband can’t take it, gives him the willies and makes him want to crawl out of his skin. Me? I’m am congestion free!
So dear reader, if you have a cold. Check with your doctor. Check with your pharmacist then get yourself some Zicam and some of the REAL little red pills. You’ll be glad you did.
I have more pairs of shoes than my husband, but that ain’t sayin’ much trust me. I have average sized feet (8.5), but HORRIBLY high arches. Add to that the fact that I am not the most graceful person In fact, there is the story that floats around my husband’s family of the first time I met most of them when I sprained my ankle badly while dancing in a pair of Keds ballet flats.
My career choice means that I am on my feet for 12-14 hour days on a semi-regular basis. Add all this up and my choice of footwear can be come a matter of health and safety.
A few years back, I discovered Dansko shoes. I love my Danskos I have 2 pairs of clogs and a pair of loafers. The are comfortable beyond description for 90% of the tasks (work or play) that make up my life.
Lately, I’ve been contemplating “my style”. I’ve been sorting through my wardrobe and really thinking about the items that I purchase prior to forking over the cash. I am big on comfort, but I like to look nice too.
The one drawback to the Danskos is they are kind of clunky but they are SOOOOO comfortable. So, the dilemma becomes, do orient my wardrobe around comfortable shoes? Or, buy what I like and continue the quest for the perfectly comfortable heel?
Sigh, stay tuned dear reader.
I am a Democrat in sea of Republicans.
Frankly these days it isn’t easy being a Democrat but I persevere because the radical right frightens me.
This article on Boston.com struck a chord with me.
I also liked this piece from Newsweek.
So, now you know.
Reesie is me.
Reesie is a child’s mispronunciation of her own name, that has developed into an adult’s identity. I’d say she is my alter ego, but most days, we share many of the same qualities.
Reesie is the woman I aspire to be all the time.
She is loving
She is loveable
She is loved
She is kind
She is patient
She loves to laugh
She is exuberent
She is passionate about life
She is energetic
She is not judgemental
She eats healthy food
She exercises regularly
She loves her time alone
She fears being alone forever
She loves to sing
I have my days of living in full Reesie mode and those are good days, very very GOOD Days.
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