Some pics from this past Sunday

Jess just looooves Robin!!! I don't know what it is about him, but the minute she sees him she starts squealing. And boy oh boy, she grabs onto his beard and pulls until he grimaces! I love it! It's just deserts, if you ask me. I knew he'd be a great dad. I just didn't know I'd be standing in a queue for Jess's attention whenever he's around. Bugger. I'm going to need to rectify the situation somehow. If anyone has any ideas, let me know.

The many faces of my Stinky Roquefort Cheese Sugar Booger

A few pics

I have a moment or two at a friend's computer, so I thought I'd share a few of the most recent pics of our bunny with you. These were taken by my friend Bronwyn on Sunday. It was a brilliant, HOT spring day under the African sun... hence the hat! (She's doing much better already, by the way. Those meds seem to be working. She's not screaming all day long anymore, and not running such a fever either. Bonus!!! Thank heavens for drugs! uh, I mean meds.)
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Ahem.

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And now for the sweet stuff. Behold our banana pancake:-

Regress...

We had Jess back at the doc's today... The poor tadpole has a perforated eardrum (buildup of fluid - snot n other gunk - in her tubes burst the eardrum), tonsillitus and pneumonia. So, the torture continues. Please think of this hillbilly family in your prayers, guys. We're all seriously down in the dumps. But especially our smallest sicko. Poor bunny.

Update on the Dead and Dying

The fact that I'm writing you a post right now should reassure you that I am not, as previously suspected, dead or dying. Although there were a few moments in the last few days when I would have happily walked towards the light.

Our house has been a petri-dish of germs, y'all. The entire Hillbilly Household succumbed to this ghastly virus. Or bacteria. Or whatever it was. Because, lemme tell you something... Hillbilly Wisdom this... When one of The Parents gets sick (and by The Parents, I actually mean The Mother, i.e. ME!), seek held fast! Because you can bet your bottom that within days, the entire household falls apart. Snotty tissues litter every available surface area. Dirty dishes become fertile breeding ground for the infestation of all manner of instects.

Not fun.

And I am stiiiilllll waiting for our internet installation. So right now I'm sitting in an internet café in Dunhillbillydee. Except this internet café has no coffee. Café schmafé. So, this will probably be a short post. Because right now, all that's keeping my eyelids upright is a leftover caffeine kick from an hour or so ago. Which is fast being depleted.

So this is just a quick checkin. Thanks for all the sooper-dooper advice guys. Pity I never had internet to see your comments until just now, because it's been a week of orange and purple splatter...

Anyhoo. Let me not complain. Just saying yowdy and sending smooches until next time.
I miss you already.

Of Meddars, Madmoms and Bum Bullets

I have a sick child. And his name is Robin. Haha. I crack myself up. (It's all downhill from here. Don't say I didn't warn you.) Actually I have TWO sick children. Robin AND Jess. It's not funny, this sick business. Which would probably mean that I'm a sicko for thinking it's funny. Oh boy, here I go again. Then again, if you can't laugh through life's problems, what can you do, right?

Where was I?

Oh yes. Sick kids. My poor little girl is battling a really nasty flu bug. And keeping me awake half the night. I took her to the doc, who prescribed a list of meds long enough to see us through from now to her university years. Unfortunately, none of said meds are sleeping pills. Because she's still keeping me awake half the night. You'd think I'd be used to it after four months of next-to-no sleep. You'd think wrong. Acquiring "Zombi" as my middle name wouldn't be an inappropriate addition.

So we have a truckload of drugs for the girlchild. Another truckload for Mr Hillbilly. And a few half-bottles for moi. I don't mind leftovers.

The meds are one thing. Administering them is another thing entirely.

Cue the "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" soundtrack.

I swear, this child of mine has a Meddar (meds radar) tucked away behind those innocent looking eyes of hers. Innocent schminnocent. Within seconds of the meds making an appearance within her range of vision, she morphs into The Incredible Hulk. With jaws of steel. And that's not all! It also comes with a nifty extra included: a screech that would put Sarah Brightman to shame.

What I don't understand is - why would they make paediatric medicine flavoured with things like grape, or orange? Don't these guys realize that a four-month-old doesn't know those flavours? No sooner have you prised her clenched jaws open, shoved the syringe into her mouth and gingerly worked the back of the syringe down so that it doesn't squirt the contents of the syring blasting down her throat, than she spits aaaallllll of it out. Every time. Then rewards you with an enormous smile immediately afterwards. While you wipe the sticky orange and purple goo from your spectacles and hair and struggle to keep your sanity intact.

Fun fun fun!

Why don't they rather make the meds into bum bullets? Suppositories totally rock. No prising open her jaws. No grape-flavoured slime in your hair. It'd be FABULOUS!

Perhaps I should reconsider my ambitions of being a stay-home-mom and hillbilly couch potato, and rather opt for a career in award-winning super-clever pharmaceutical technologist thingy-ma-jiggyness. I wonder if they'd take me serious in my now orange and purple splattered outfits?