Ugh.

Evan has been battling a fever of 104 degrees the last 2 1/2 days, and has missed two school days in a row. He's miserable and it's been exhausting. His fever finally broke last night, enough where we could actually go out and get the dogs and cats food before they realized there was no more left come dinnertime tonight, and that was all we could handle. I need a nap, but I need to work and clean and organize and I just need a freaking nap. The last two weeks emotionally has caught up with me physically, and I'm exhausted. Evan is sleeping on the couch right now, so what am I doing? Laundry. Filing. Correspondence with business associates. And I need a freakin' nap.

Hubby goes out of town for all next week, and I'm starting to see spots from knowing how hard next week will be. Because, with my luck, I'll hit that "fertile window" exactly when he's out of town for us to try for kiddo number two again. And any other month, I'd suck it up, but this month, it will probably take me down to my knees. Because "trying" is the only control I have over the miscarriage. I'm actually praying to God that my whole system is messed up enough to make me at least a week off schedule for that "window" so that I don't lose my mind while he's gone. I've been fine up until I realized this morning that our attempts for #2 may be thwarted by an ill-timed business trip, and now I am hoping to god my body is messed up. What's up with that? Oh well. Final doctor's visit is tomorrow morning, and hopefully she'll tell me that it's not messed up, but just enough off course that hubby going out of town next week won't matter.

On another note, I'm currently surrounded by 4 dogs and a cat while I type, and it's cracking me up. We are watching a friend's dog, and she is the scardiest giant dog you'd ever meet. The cat is constantly stalking her, and if one dog/cat is laying in a door, she won't enter/exit that room at all. She won't make eye contact with the cat, as she is sure as all get out that eye contact will melt her down into a puddle of dog goo. The cat is seriously enjoying this. He has no fear to begin with, as he just walked up and sniffed the ear of our grumpy dog, and she just raised her eyebrows at him. Our friend's dog watched out of the side of her head, pretending like she wasn't watching, but totally was. Animal dynamics crack me up.

It's supposed to snow AGAIN tonight, and I'm just ready to quit. Can we move someplace where snow doesn't exist? And I'm not sure if I can handle one more "Ready for the snow?" comments from the neighbors. NO I'M NOT READY FOR THE SNOW! I'M READY FOR SOME FREAKIN' SUNSHINE AND 70 DEGREE WEATHER. But that's not very neighborly, is it? So I laugh and make some appropriate comment, when really I want to stomp my feet in protest like a 3 year old.

Speaking of 3 year olds, Evan is reading me bedtime stories now. We went out and bought him a bunch of level 1 and level 2 Learn-to-read books that are actually pretty cute, and he's reading TO ME. I love it. He gets stuck on some words, as he should, but he very carefully, and with proper inflection, reads me stories about Spiderman and Cars characters. Last night, I asked him what story he wanted me to read, and he said, "No Mommy, I read YOU a story!" and he did. It makes my heart ache with pride, especially when he gives each character it's own voice like we do with his stories at night. I love it.

We are also regularly reprimanded by him if we say "Stupid" or "But" (because he thinks it's "butt"), and he makes sure to point those words out on tv, since those are words that we have taught him are not nice to say. Normally, we wouldn't care about "butt", except every conversation became, "Did you have a good day, Evan?" "Yes, butt! It was a very butt day!" or songs simply became "Butt Butt Butt Butt Big Butty Butt". You seriously get sick of hearing the word butt when it is inserted into every sentence multiple times. It never ceases to amaze me how certain things are just programmed into little boys. Of course, when he got his hands dirty the other day and I made him use extra soap to get them clean, his use of "dammit" was pretty much my fault, and right on, though I asked him "What did you say?" and he repeated it perfectly. We have found that the best approach is either correcting him with a better alternative and telling him what he just said didn't make sense, or simply ignoring it and then later saying "darnit!" since he pays attention to exclamations. If we call him out on it and make a big deal about a certain word, it gets stashed into his arsenal of "things that tick off mom and dad". Believe me, he has quite the collection already. He's very proud. It should be huge by the time he's 16.

So, my rambling is pretty much done. I'm so tired I can't think straight and I can now hear him stirring on the couch, which means I've got about 30 seconds before I am bellowed at for a nose wiping. Adios for now.