Wordless Wednesday (now with more words)

If you read my blog, then you’re probably aware that Pineapple has been really sick the past two weeks. And with most toddlers, particularly those right around the 16 month point, I’m finding, encouraging them to ‘sit still because you really need your rest’ is virtually impossible. Well, you KNOW they’re not feeling tip top when they VOLUNTARILY sit still for any length of time. This is Pineapple last week, enjoying Bolt! from the comfort of our couch. Note the red-rimmed eyes (you can’t see mine in this photo – but trust me, they were red-rimmed as well – from exhaustion) and the sippy cup just about empty of Juicy Juice Immunity juice and Pedialyte. Poor little Pineapple! Don’t you just want to give her a hug?!

I’m glad that this week, things are looking up!

Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?


Consider this a swine flu hiatus. Fever all week. Coughing. Can’t breathe. Absolutely miserable. I would not wish this on anyone. And FYI, doctors refuse to swab for it. It’s to pervasive. And there’s not a lot they can do to help. At this point, I’m just hoping I don’t develop pneumonia – even though I’m pretty sure I at least have bronchitis or something.

So far, Pineapple is OK – a bit of a cough and runny nose but no fever. We think she just has a cold – she had the H1N1 shot. But only the 1st one – did YOU know they needed TWO? Because we didn’t. We’re holding out hope that she’s not developing something worse.

So, I owe my blog several posts – and have several on the docket that I’m hoping to get to this weekend. My apologies for the disappearing act but I promise, promise, promise to deliver as soon as possible.

In the meantime…oink….COUGH….*sigh*

P.S. and lest I be disingenuous regarding my ‘fear’ of wolves, rest assured I’m not referring to my FAVORITE wolf, Jacob. Yum. 6 days, 5 hours, 33 minutes to bliss.

Holy Garage Sale Hell

Wow. If anybody ever hears me utter the words “I think I’ll have a garage sale” again…I expect to be immediately hauled off in a white, strappy jacket because I’ve clearly lost my effing mind.

I assumed a garage sale would be easy. A no-brainer. A simple, efficient way to make some easy cash. L.O.L!!!! I am a TOTAL moron.

That was seriously more difficult and painful than giving birth (granted I had a c-sec along with all the yummy numbing meds that go along with it…but I digress).

I started the prep for my fantabulous garage sale on Friday morning…at 9:30AM…with a trip to the store for supplies, followed by hauling, setting up, cleaning, folding, stacking, bundling, and pricing…until MIDNIGHT. I am nothing if not thorough. (See the picture – all bundled and pretty – you like, no?)


The next morning I awoke achey all over. And I initially assumed that it was just my overworked body groaning loudly that I’m too old and too out of shape to think I can participate in any activity more strenuous than some mouth breathing while watching True Blood. But alas, it was actually my body saying “you got a big, bad cold beyotch and yer screwed cuz you have this maximum lame garage sale to conduct today…moron!” (Ah – my body – always shootin’ me straight. But again, I digress.)

So, I rolled across the bed until I fell out and then crawled to the bathroom to splash water on my face and, hopefully, wake the hell up. About 30 minutes later, I stumbled out to the garage wearing some pajamas that, IMHO, do a good job of impersonating normal clothing, and began finalizing the set-up. This was about 7:15AM. (Don’t even say it! I know what you’re thinking – “that’s too late to start your garage sale!” – well too bad. I’m a moron – not a glutton for punishment and no way, no how was I hauling my sweet cheeks out of my bed at the ass crack of dawn to hawk crap I didn’t want. So there. *sticks out tongue*)

By 7:45AM people were starting to arrive. My signs were placed around the block and in front of my house – I’d done my due diligence and created some beauties. Alas, they were not meant to be because we had a TORRENTIAL DOWNPOUR that turned them all to orange mush with badly drawn arrows. But the people, they were a-coming.

SIDE NOTE: Which begs the question…why did noone tell me about the ‘professional’ garage sale shoppers? The men that show up super early on the hunt for old tech gadgets, tools, antiques and videos that they may be able to sell for a profit? I was seriously weirded out when for the 1st hour or so of my garage sale, my only visitors were loudly grumbling men who needed a bath and complained about the fact that all I had was baby stuff…are you SERIOUS?! That’s exactly what the multiple Craigslist ads said! Baby Stuff! Sheesh. And *squirm* – I did not know how to handle these folks, so I just smiled and mumbled through my stuffed nose, “come again.” It was at this point that DH asked if I was OK – because clearly, we did not want these folks to “come again.” I wasn’t OK. I was undercoffeed and over-cold medicated. But again…I digress.

By noon, we’d had about 10 visitors to our garage sale. All but 3 of whom complained…loudly. The other 3 bought a bundle of stuff and declared that my garage looked like a store. (I should explain that I have a 2-car garage, and given that I live in PDX, I was expecting rain as a distinct possibility, so I set up my sale so that everything could be comfortably displayed within the dry, carpeted, shelved garage. It was glorious. And a total pain in the ass. Yeah – over. achiever. I also vaccuumed throughout the day. I have a problem. I would show you a picture but apparently, I’m a moron and didn’t take one of the full room. I do however have the amazing wolf head I discussed in the earlier garage sale post, for your viewing pleasure. You are welcome.)


By this time, I was also complaining…loudly. And my stepmom looked at me and said “whatever money we make, is all yours – but I’ll be surprised if you bust $100.” This folks, was when I began to really get down. I whined, I complained, I bitched and moaned. I ate 3 (3!!) donuts (did I mention we had complimentary coffee and donuts – we did – that’s just the way I roll).

I was told it was just the weather. It was the signs – they were soggy. It was the cheap dollar store yard sale balloons with their lesser helium that were lying, dejected, on the ground in front of my driveway rather than proclaiming our sale to the world. I was told it was just the way garage sales go. *sigh*

It was at this time that the sun came out. It broke through the clouds and bounced, sparkling off of my sad balloons. And my stepmom looked at me and said “get up – we’re moving stuff into the driveway so people can see it – that will get them in.” I figured, whatever, I feel like poo and I hate garage sales. I’ll just go along with it if it makes her happy.

And you’ll never, ever guess. Never.

It totally friggin’ worked.

We had people RUNNING up the driveway! Sadly, most of PDX seems to be preparing for a boy – so the majority of my adorable, rarely-if-ever-worn baby girl clothes were not purchased – and in my slump of a few hours before, I’d marked everything in the room half price – but that’s what consignment stores are for, right?! And oddly enough, I did sell a lot of MY clothes – not what I expected. And I sold my breast pump – which I only used about 5 times and had a whole second set of unused tubes and parts for because we had a rental with all the supplies for that prior to getting our pump. And best of all – top of the heap – cream of the crop…

THE FRIGGIN’ RESIN LEOPARD TOTALLY SOLD! I actually stopped the guy that was buying it and using the ruse that I needed to photograph the item given that my stepmom was away at the moment and it was hers, so I needed to document the sale (do not ask me why I felt the need to create an elaborate story instead of just asking if I could snap the picture – it may be because I tend toward dramatics – who knows) and he totally let me take the picture!


And that’s it. I made a measly $175. That’s all. For 2 full days of back breaking, mind numbing work. But the stuff I took to the consigment store is already selling and I learned a valuable lesson: Garage sales are hell. And I’m not cut out for them. My hat’s off to all those ladies that are able to pull this off. My mom informed me that she made $1300 at her last garage sale. Maria (@BOREDmommy) made $1700 at hers. Not me. I’m sticking to consignment stores. And fewer backaches. GO ME!


EXTRA LOVE: I still can’t believe I forgot to take an ‘after’ picture of the setup room. I did mention I’m a moron, right? Well, here’s a ‘before’ so you can get some idea of what I was up against…and that rack of clothes hanging in the top right corner…that’s ALL baby girl stuff…and that’s not even half of it. *le sigh*



So my good friend @dananderson recently made a comment on my Twitterfeed (@pineapplebabble) that if the Pineapple doesn’t stop getting sick, I’ll need to change my ID to “PineappleBUBBLE.” And I’m afraid we are not far off from that!

This last week has been a serious test of my parenting skills, ability to function on zero sleep, marriage, and sanity. We started out last Sunday with a nice cold for the whole family – Pineapple, DH and I were all down for the count – and it just went downhill from there. DH and I were both too sick to go to work on Monday and Tuesday and Pineapple was home with us, working on her own mucous issues. Tuesday afternoon, we took Pineapple to the doc for a check-in because her breathing was so darned raspy and she was really struggling to get the sleep she (and we) so desperately needed.

After being told she had a simple cold, possibly aggravated by mild asthma, we were given steroids, inhalers and sent home to wait it out. That night, I had to scoop her out of her bed more than once to turn her upside down and fishook phlegm out of her little throat – SCARY BUSINESS. Needless to say, we addressed this with the doc but were told to “stay the course” and “you’re doing everything you can.”

Side note: I really HATE that statement. Not only does it rub my Type-A personality the wrong way but it just sucks. I do not enjoy looking at my tiny, red-faced Pineapple and saying “sorry sweetie, we’re doing everything we can.” There has to be more. But I digress…

Wednesday rolled around and though I was ready to return to work, Pineapple clearly was not ready for daycare. After a full day of nebulizing, steroids and trying to encourage a 9.5 month-old to “take it easy,” we thought we were on the right path. That evening as we watched Bolt and listened to a somewhat raspy but happy Pineapple point at Rhino and make “mine” noises (yes, we are bad parents that allow Pineapple to watch TV when she’s supposed to be taking it easy – we also have an extensive collection of Baby Einstein video that she enjoys on a regular basis – give me a call if you don’t like it – that chat will go well) we were feeling optimistic about the next morning.

Though she did wake up that night needing a little extra cuddling and bottle, she did OK so after a quick call to the doc, we dropped her at daycare on Thursday morning. We checked in with our srsly fabulous daycare folks throughout the day and were reassured that all was well and she was enjoying herself….That lasted until 3PM at which point I received messages on my cell, my work phone, DH’s phone and at his office saying Pineapple was “having trouble breathing.” Needless to say, I BOLTED for the exit, dialing the daycare on the way. I was reassured that she was OK, just REALLY raspy – more so than she had been earlier in the day. After picking her up, running her home, nebulizing her and calling the doc – and subsequently arguing with them about the necessity of an ER visit (holler if you think those places are the pits of hell…yeah, me too), we were told to monitor her, continue her meds and bring her in tomorrow morning (AKA today).

Let me just say…last night…was terrible. She was absolutely miserable. And my happy Pineapple – who is usually in a good mood even at the worst of times – was PISSED OFF. That baby was so mad – at me, DH, the puppy – I swear I saw her kick the cat – and she was inconsolable. The only thing that worked was me carrying her OUTSIDE for nearly TWO HOURS…walking around…in the middle of the night…outside. Ugh. So no sleep for her and no sleep for us and all of us are more than a little frayed around the edges. The puppy actually had his head under his sleeping pillow at one point. Oy vey.

Today we went back to the doc. Lo and behold…Pineapple has an ear infection on top of everything. Poor, poor, poor Pineapple. And now, we’re preparing for visits with pediatric allergy specialists, gastro-intestinal specialists, and another doc visit on Monday to try to figure out WTF is going on.

Now, let me be clear – I’m so thankful for my Pineapple. I’m so thankful that we can go to doctor’s visits and try to figure out what is going on and help her as much as possible. My Pineapple means the world to me. So while all of this sounds eerily like complaining, try to think of it more as lamenting. For her, for us, for my coworkers who have to hear about all my baby drama (you know who you are), and for all the parents out there who have dealt with a sick Pineapple of their own. It is hard. It isn’t pretty. And the illnesses last too long – one minute is too long, trust me. It is terrible to look at you wee one and know that you just cannot do anything else to help. It is heart-wrenching. But it is so worth every exhausting, terrifying, exasperating moment. So, so, so worth it.

And too make this week even worse, Ed, Farrah and MJ all passed away. THE announcer, a legend, and the king of pop. What. A. Week. Let’s all cross our fingers that next week is better. Have a good one!