Saturday, August 11, 2007

The burning... the itching...

OK, so you know what hurts? A sunburn. You know what itches even more? Hives. You know what really really hurts and itches like a mofo??... A sunburn, COVERED in hives. That's what I've got right now. It is taking all my will power not to stop typing and scratch myself to death.

It started innocently enough. Went to the zoo, got a surprise sunburn around my chest, neck and shoulders. Matter of fact the shirt I was wearing was a scoop neck on both sides so when the burn showed up that night it was like a bright red collar or native-type head dress both front and back. The next day I went over to my parents and my mom recommended a "save a tan" lotion that turned out to be the start of my demise. Shortly after I put it on my skin started to mildly itch. I figured it was part of the sunburn. By the time I got home it was a very intense itch and a rash had started to form.

So then I decided to play "home apothecary detective" to sooth the itch. Um. This turned out to be a bad idea. First I tried Noxzema to cool the burn, but the itch got so intense I decided to try some Gold Bond medicated itch lotion, which dulled the itch long enough to allow me to fall to sleep, but I smelled like the little old lady from Pasadena. At this point I have 3-4 different lotions on my poor skin, and my clever and sarcastic sis thought I should perhaps marinate is some teriyaki as well. At 4am I awaken from a dead sleep with the most painful burning sensation, like I literally want to rip my skin off. One check in the mirror and I've got raised welts and hives all over my sunburn. I had to jump in a freezing cold shower to help relieve the pain, but oh MY it was COLD, so now I'm wide awake. 

Then I decided to call a phone nurse ("nursing consultant" I was informed by the PC hospital operator) to see what I can take (since I'm 20 weeks pregnant to boot). She told me to try white cider vinegar to sooth the itch. That one made me cock my head to the side but she told me not to worry. So downstairs I go to find out that I have only apple cider vinegar. Well heck it's the only vinegar I have so I'll try a little bit.

So now I'm sitting here with welts, red native collar, rash, sunburn, hives, pain, smelling like an old lady who just dyed a butt load of Easter eggs and still not sure what to do. I bid you soothing relief... hope I can find some myself

Friday, August 03, 2007

The scariest 30 feet...

My little 2 1/2 year old is getting so big. Talking up a storm, learning new things every day, makes me think it won't be long before she's out the door for kindergarten, grade school, high school, prom, college, moving out... and I can't even fathom right now sticking her on a bus in a few years and saying "see you at three"... makes me queasy just thinking about it.

So my siblings and I use to live right around the corner from our grade school. We were labeled "walkers" (aka nerds) and the closest we ever got to the inside of the school bus was the occasional field trip. Looking back now we were probably the lucky ones, living so close to home, not having to deal with any extra bully troubles, but at the time we thought we were somehow getting jipped out of something fun. The one plus side to the deal was that we did get giant whiffs of the diesel fumes as the buses zoomed by our house, which I have to admit I still rather like to this day.

Now my sister and I use to walk home together, and from the corner of the school's cyclone fence to the closest corner of my parents yard was literally like 20-30 feet. This mind you was in a quiet little peaceful neighborhood where nothing scary ever really happened. We however thought this the most terrifying stretch of road anywhere in the continental United States. We had been warned as most kids to not talk to strangers, and forced to watch a couple of cheesy after school specials about stranger safety... but with a dad that liked to spook us all the time and caused great panic just for fun made our active little imaginations believe that any car, bike, mail truck, ice cream truck, and especially "rapist vans" were out to get us. (You know, rapist vans, the kind that have no windows or doors except maybe the back that look all beat up - you better run like crazy if you see one of them).

So we would start at the corner gate and would first look in every direction for cars. Then we would book it as fast as our little legs would carry us (in complete terror mind you) to our parents yard, through the tree line, over the bark, leap over the shrubs, to the safety of the front door. This was a daily ritual, I'm sad to report.

It makes my husband laugh so hard now when I tell him of our running, since he's seen the shortness of that stretch of road and it's literally a stone's throw away. Now at first today when I was thinking of how scary it would be to put my future little 5-year-old on a bus and wave goodbye... Now I'm thinking hey maybe it's a very good thing she's not going to be a "walker"
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