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Who's Been Sitting in My Chair and Why is My Kid Calling it Mom?

Mommy's Little Doppelganger

My husband, Garth (not his real name) met me at the train station on Sunday and, after taking a quick look at my swollen legs, scaly arms, blistering hands and blotchy neck (you're welcome!) believing that my recent poison ivy infection had somehow morphed into leprosy (ditto) he drove me straight to the doctor's office.

"I can't breath."

Apparently, I still hadn't gotten over an unexpected trip to a NYC hospital and BusyMom wasn't around.

Seriously, it was ALL I could do to hold it together (wearing long sleeves and slacks in the summer, when it's Africa-hot, sucks donkey balls!) rest assured, getting ALL your hugs definitely helped me get through BlogHer.

"It's NOT leprosy."

Phew, good to know AND I bet you are just as relieved as I was (mostly) especially, if you and I, you know, actually hugged, or slept together (waves to Headless Mom) last weekend.

"Momeeeeeeeeeeeeee, you're home!"

My youngest daughter (she's 9) had a REAL hard time with me leaving on this trip (cried herself to sleep at my mother's house on Wednesday night) but, used her brother's cell phone to text me...often...and, you know, tell me so.  

"Where's Daddy?"

So, it's very comforting (for me) to know that I was lucky enough to have snagged a guy, like Garth (not his real name) who is NOT afraid to, you know, tap into his inner-domestic diva.

"He's running an errand for mommy."

Aaaaand, of course, in the suburbs "errand" is code for...daddy is getting mommy drugs...or, boxed wine...no, not really...but, at this point, I would have taken a shot in the behind (being deathly afraid of needles, as I am) if it meant that the pain would stop, DAMMIT!

[eyes go wide]

"Ewwww, what is THAT!?!?"

Niiiiice.  So, what the heck is wrong with me?  Neither I, or my doctor knows (exactly) but, it seems that all those early mornings, late nights and traveling (i.e. walking a bazillion blocks, throwing myself in front of taxis and then saving other BlogHers) while under the influence of poison ivy, has stressed my immune system.

"Are you dying, or something?"

Good thing everything else in my life is stress-free!

"No, just itchy."

It's been a rough couple of weeks (okay, months, even, since I lost my job) and, although I understand life is very unfair sometimes (trust me, I STILL read blogs) after ALL these years of keeping up with This Full House (celebrating my 7th blogoversary, this month, btw!) my life is getting to the point where I'm just not quite sure of anything, anymore.

"Good, because I missed you so much..."

Then, Hope pointed at the alien...sitting in the dining room chair...draped with one (of many) of my denim jackets...with a place setting...right next to hers.

"...and I pretended that you were here!"

[shot to the heart]

I'm feeling much better now (less green, third eye almost gone) and, even though I'm STILL not sure, you know, about stuff (I think!) I do feel it safe to say that the steroids and allergy medicines had NOTHING to do with my immediate recovery.

[snort]

"It kinda, sorta looks like you, too, right Mommy!?!?"

Good thing my children love me...regardless...AND yes, some of them even snort...just like their mother.

I hope it lasts!

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