(no subject)

Well, that was interesting. On Saturday, we got all ready and went to do errands (one of which was picking up the new Dvd player at Best Buy. We put off getting the fancy-schmancy one, but it's still on our list...just a bit lower). About halfway to our first destination, I started to feel really nauseated. Couldn't figure out why, but I'm usually quite good at controlling it. Usually being the operative word here.

Luckily, we were near a rest stop and Jeff was truly wonderful. He helped clean me up, found a jacket in the backseat for me to wear and even got me a bottle of water.

We headed home, and about three minutes before we got there, it happened again. Oy. This time, we didn't stop, figuring it'd be so much better just to be home. When we got there, I went right into the house and thanked the builders for putting a shower in the ground floor bathroom. I just stood under the spray and started to feel human again. Jeff was cleaning out the car (did I mention wonderful?) and Sam came in to see if I was okay. She asked if she could help (she must get the wonderful from him :) and I took off the jacket, rolled it up and asked her to put it on top of the washer (which is very near that bathroom). And then we did that with each piece of clothing. She even helped me off with my socks (the shoes came off before I went in the shower...'cause they made it out of the car okay and I really *like* those shoes).

I headed upstairs, took a *real* shower (with soap and stuff) and sat down on the bed to reassure Sam I wasn't dying or anything. Jeff came in and we talked for a bit, then he and Sam headed back out, 'cause Best Buy *still* had our dvd player, and it seemed rude to keep it waiting. ;)

This was around two. I called Jeff when I woke up around eight to make sure they weren't dead. They'd decided to see "Meet the Robinsons"...and unlike the time they decided to see "The Incredibles", Sam didn't freak out at the darkness and the...movieness of it all, and they got to see the whole thing. They had a *blast*. Which makes me happy. I love that they do stuff together. Next time, maybe we'll plan it, so I don't have to be ill to get things going.;)

After I took the second shower, I felt pretty good. The only thing wrong with me was tiredness and the after-effects of barfing.

We went back out yesterday, and while I was a little apprehensive, we made it through a Costco run and while I've felt odd, off and on, there haven't been any further problems.

I'm kind of used to the nausea...it has come and gone for *years* now, but I can usually control it. I think the problem is, I was so used to the van, being up high, not hemmed in by other cars and *not* riding close to the ground where every bump is magnified. Now we're in a smallish car and the movement/not being able to always see trees/sky/something to focus on that isn't moving with me out my window is throwing off my coping skills. I'll be working on new skills...and keeping plastic bags, a change of clothes and plenty of paper towels in the trunk with the hopes I won't have to use them anytime soon.

~~~

Samantha is in a stage. A rather annoying stage where everything happens to *her*. It is driving me nuts. For example, when she goes to bed, she turns on the light in the stairs, and when she gets up stairs and turns on the lights in the bathroom and her bedroom, she's to turn off the light in the stairs. For the past week or so, when I remind her of this, the usual response is "Why do I have to be the one to turn it off?", to which the only possible reply is "Because you turned it on!". Jeeze.

She's got no problem doing things if she's asking to help, and she's often a marvelous help, but if Jeff or I just ask her to do something, she either huffs or asks "Whyyyyy" she has to.

No sir, I don't like it.

We've had discussions about it and I'm telling myself progress has been made. I only hope I'm right.

~~~

I can't think of anything else. I know there was more I wanted to write about, but I can't for the life of me think what it was. Oh well. If it comes back, I'll have something to write about on Tuesday. *grin*

(no subject)

Well, that was interesting. On Saturday, we got all ready and went to do errands (one of which was picking up the new Dvd player at Best Buy. We put off getting the fancy-schmancy one, but it's still on our list...just a bit lower). About halfway to our first destination, I started to feel really nauseated. Couldn't figure out why, but I'm usually quite good at controlling it. Usually being the operative word here.

Luckily, we were near a rest stop and Jeff was truly wonderful. He helped clean me up, found a jacket in the backseat for me to wear and even got me a bottle of water.

We headed home, and about three minutes before we got there, it happened again. Oy. This time, we didn't stop, figuring it'd be so much better just to be home. When we got there, I went right into the house and thanked the builders for putting a shower in the ground floor bathroom. I just stood under the spray and started to feel human again. Jeff was cleaning out the car (did I mention wonderful?) and Sam came in to see if I was okay. She asked if she could help (she must get the wonderful from him :) and I took off the jacket, rolled it up and asked her to put it on top of the washer (which is very near that bathroom). And then we did that with each piece of clothing. She even helped me off with my socks (the shoes came off before I went in the shower...'cause they made it out of the car okay and I really *like* those shoes).

I headed upstairs, took a *real* shower (with soap and stuff) and sat down on the bed to reassure Sam I wasn't dying or anything. Jeff came in and we talked for a bit, then he and Sam headed back out, 'cause Best Buy *still* had our dvd player, and it seemed rude to keep it waiting. ;)

This was around two. I called Jeff when I woke up around eight to make sure they weren't dead. They'd decided to see "Meet the Robinsons"...and unlike the time they decided to see "The Incredibles", Sam didn't freak out at the darkness and the...movieness of it all, and they got to see the whole thing. They had a *blast*. Which makes me happy. I love that they do stuff together. Next time, maybe we'll plan it, so I don't have to be ill to get things going.;)

After I took the second shower, I felt pretty good. The only thing wrong with me was tiredness and the after-effects of barfing.

We went back out yesterday, and while I was a little apprehensive, we made it through a Costco run and while I've felt odd, off and on, there haven't been any further problems.

I'm kind of used to the nausea...it has come and gone for *years* now, but I can usually control it. I think the problem is, I was so used to the van, being up high, not hemmed in by other cars and *not* riding close to the ground where every bump is magnified. Now we're in a smallish car and the movement/not being able to always see trees/sky/something to focus on that isn't moving with me out my window is throwing off my coping skills. I'll be working on new skills...and keeping plastic bags, a change of clothes and plenty of paper towels in the trunk with the hopes I won't have to use them anytime soon.

~~~

Samantha is in a stage. A rather annoying stage where everything happens to *her*. It is driving me nuts. For example, when she goes to bed, she turns on the light in the stairs, and when she gets up stairs and turns on the lights in the bathroom and her bedroom, she's to turn off the light in the stairs. For the past week or so, when I remind her of this, the usual response is "Why do I have to be the one to turn it off?", to which the only possible reply is "Because you turned it on!". Jeeze.

She's got no problem doing things if she's asking to help, and she's often a marvelous help, but if Jeff or I just ask her to do something, she either huffs or asks "Whyyyyy" she has to.

No sir, I don't like it.

We've had discussions about it and I'm telling myself progress has been made. I only hope I'm right.

~~~

I can't think of anything else. I know there was more I wanted to write about, but I can't for the life of me think what it was. Oh well. If it comes back, I'll have something to write about on Tuesday. *grin*