We're dogsitting for my parents this weekend. They drove off to Cleveland to help my aunt, because my uncle is dying horribly from some form of cancer, and wants to do so at home. My aunt and cousins have been doing round-the-clock care of my uncle, and my mom finally convinced my aunt to hire a night nurse so she could get some rest. I cannot fathom the pain they all must be going through -- my cousins to care for their father while he wastes away, and my aunt to do the same with the man who basically was her life for the past 50 years. My mom called me today and whispered "Oh, my G-d, JT, it's so awful." She couldn't give me a lot of details except to say that I'd be shocked if I saw my uncle.

 I'd actually felt like I wanted to go help them, but I'm relieved that I wasn't asked to. I'm not terribly close to that part of my family but they're irrevocably tied up with my childhood. My uncle is really the patriarch of my childhood, to be honest. I was very intimidated by him when I was little; he was a little brash, uberconfident, and very wealthy. As the youngest of the cousins and kind of a theatre nerd, I really didn't fit in with their country-club-going, superpopular herd. But as I got older, I saw my aunt & uncle without my cousins on visits in Florida and here, and gained more of a bond with them. It's sad to think that the next time I see my aunt, it will likely be at my uncle's untimely funeral -- and yet it will be such a blessing that his suffering will end.

Wow, that became very serious and depressing, sorry. I really meant to write about what it's been like to spend most of the day at my parents' house. They have a townhome across town from where we live; it's a 3-bedroom contemporary place they've been in for something like 10 years now. When my dad took up carpentry a year or two ago, they started updating stuff and he is just now about done with their kitchen. It's been an enormous project, and while there are a few yet-unfinished details (mostly drawer fronts and stuff), it's just beautiful. The cabinetry is this deep honey color and since they demo'd this pantry that used to block the middle of the room (and added a window above the sink) there's much more light in here. I'm not a fan of the granite they chose but it works for them.

The most important things to me are the enormous space, awesome appliances, and nine zillion pots and pans. It's such a pleasure to be in here! We all came over yesterday around 5:30, and fed the kids and hung out. DH was going to take Benjamin home, but he freaked out and really wouldn't leave without me and the boys. So we did a quick change of plans, and DH stayed here with the older two while I brought Benj home. He fell asleep nestled against me in bed and I was able to put him in his crib, but then he woke a few times crying, and then went into full-on night terror mode at around 2 am. If I hadn't seen Danny do this several times before, I would have really freaked out -- alone in the apartment with this screaming baby/toddler who didn't seem to see or hear me. Poor little guy finally petered out in bed with me and slept until just before I had to bring him back to my parents' place.

We took all three kids for their haircuts this morning, and then DH took Benjamin and Danny back to our place for the daytime. I was going to keep Danny with me & Jake, but he wanted to go home and catch up on the shows he'd TiVo'd. So it was just me and Jacob (and my parents' dog, Penne) for the majority of the day. Jake was very busy and barely surfaced to go to the bathroom (and hoover two bagels with cream cheese). I got enough work done to use up my laptop battery, made two batches of cherry-chocolate rugelach, and cleaned up -- all while enjoying plenty of counter space and keeping one eye on Little Voice on satellite.

After checking in with DH (who got to enjoy some quality Danny time while Benj napped), I picked up Dannyman and brought the boys back here for mac & cheese, followed by some ice cream, courtesy of my mother's fully stocked freezer. But I was so high on the kitchen that, while the boys played some last-minute Gamecube, I rustled up some angel hair pasta with chicken, sauteed broccoli and green beans for myself. Too bad DH wasn't here, but I do have leftovers if he's up for them tomorrow.

I love to cook; it just seems so much harder to do at home. We're tight on space and time and energy, and it gets a bit overwhelming in the apartment. So here I am -- two days without meds and yet I feel so calm. I guess this is what it's like to have a little more white space in your world. Maybe tomorrow I'll be de-stressed enough to stop throwing up my pills. I'm sure that will help my outlook, too.

I don't like sending chain email, so I figured I'd blog this.  

 Nope. Yanked out when I was 21. That may have been the worst pain I've ever endured -- and the epidural wore off before I gave birth to Benjamin, so we're saying something here.

 Yes, I am fairly strong (physically and emotionally), though I don't feel it all the time.

My horrendous immune system causes me all sorts of problems, not the least of which an extreme inability to lose weight. I have to work much harder than most people just to maintain. That and my horrendous temper.

37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?

9:38 AM

Danny got put on a nebulizer yesterday; one ampoule every four hours (even in his sleep, which I totally blew off last night). This morning, he crawled into bed with me and we did his treatment, after which he was extremely snuggly and touchy-feely. I'm used to him sort of gently stroking my arm or leg or playing with my fingers, but this morning, he began to gleefully squeeze my right breast.

"Please don't," I said quickly. He kept doing it, obviously fascinated.

"Please DON'T," I said again, but he didn't stop.

"I SAID DON'T, DANNY, STOP IT!" I had to pull away from him completely.

I was just molested by my hypotonic, asthmatic five-year-old. Am I wrong to be totally freaked out with how this year has begun?