End of an era

So – it’s over.  At 2:45 this afternoon, Jake finished high school.

He left this morning with camera in tow insisting there would be pictures.  I tried all day to text chat him wondering how the day went.  He never responded.  I figured he was mad at me because I reinforced the idea that he ask this girl he has an insane crush on to the movies.  What could he lose?

Finally at 3:00, fifteen minutes after the moment came and went, I called him.

I found out the reason he didn’t text was that his phone was close to dead (and we’re talking on it???) and it was a busy day.  Day went well.  There were some tear inducing moments.  He took 30 pictures.  The school paper misspelled his name and has him going to the wrong college.

And the girl?  Just as he worked the nerve to ask her the alarm went off for a fire drill.  (How sad!)  He thinks he might text her later.

Then he asked if he could hang up and get back to his basketball game.

The ceremony is tomorrow night.  I think it will be a recap of his day…take a few pictures.  Probably a few things misspelled (hopefully not the diploma!).  Maybe a date with the crush girl (not at the ceremony of course).  And a few tear inducing moments (especially for Mama).

Back from the Land of the Dead

I am happy to say I’m back from the dead.  Or at least it felt like I had died.  At least a dozen times.

A week ago yesterday I started the day stressed – alot of drama over The Beast (Jake’s car).  I was pretty much angry at everyone.  But noon, my skin on my neck and scalp started to tingle.  Then it started to burn.  It wasn’t just any burn.  It felt like a legion of fire ants marching under my skin x 10.  The muscles in my neck started to ache.  Then, as I tried to eat my lunch it took two swallows to get my yogurt down.

Thinking I was having an allergic reaction to something (even though I’m not allergic to anything), I made an immediate appointment to see my doctor.  By the time I got to the doctor I could add dizzy to the list of symptoms.  Fortunately it wasn’t an allergic reaction.

It was shingles.

I wouldn’t wish shingles on my worst enemy.

I was given three prescriptions – an antibiotic, meds for chicken pox (which shingles are but the adult version), and prednisone.  I nearly passed out at the store as I waited at the pharmacy for over an hour to get my medication.  Then it was home and off to bed…or at least as close to off to bed as a wife and mother of three gets.  I attempted to go to work the next day and was sent promptly home partially due to fear of catching what I had (I wasn’t contagious) – and partially because I looked something close to death warmed over.

At it’s worst I fought with chills and fever all at the same time.  My muscles ached.  I was constantly tired.  It took three days before I could swallow normal.  And until just a day or two ago it felt as if a low level electric current was running through my muscles.

 My family, who were  some of the causes of my stress, have been angels.  They’ve cooked, they’ve cleaned, they’ve given extra hugs and kisses and cuddles (even when it hurt to cuddle – but it’s the thought that counts!).  The hubby has gotten the car for me, taken chairs to track meets so I can rest and kept the house in line.  He’s been the best.

I still have muscle aches and am unnormally tired.  But it’s nice to feel alive again. 🙂

Proud Mama

So, while I am on hiatus from writing – I am between projects and planning the marketing of my two novels – I have been spending alot of time helping with school projects.

Alex has her demonstration project for their Forensics Meet due tomorrow (a Forensics Meet is a competition of oral readings, memorization, demonstrations, speeches, spelling bees, etc. – unfortunately not actually crime forensics or I am pretty sure I’d be raising the next Abbey Shuto!).  She decided to do her project on sewing a pillow. 

She didn’t do half bad!  And, other than threading the bobbin and sewing machine and needing a little help sewing it closed she did it all herself.

She’s turning out be a great little seamstress.  (Not sewer…I hate that term.  To me it’s not S-E-W-E-R, a person who sews.  It is S-E-W-E-R, a series of pipes and tunnels that takes yucky stuff out of our houses and is the place where large rats and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles live.)

And even better, I taught her.  Which is amazing.  I can sew but not that great – and certainly not great enough to teach someone.  Maybe she is taking secret classes from Grandma, who is a phenominal seamstress?

Hmmm…