In case you were wondering...

Kathryn did indeed have pinkeye. Now if you remember it requires a large amount of brute force just to get the child to take a meltaway strip. Can you imagine what we are going through to administer eyedrops?

Let me paint you a picture. Imagine my 6'5", 250 pound stud of a husband holding my sweet little 3 three old, arms flailing, legs kicking, body contorting into all sorts of positions to escape her daddy's grasp, screaming,"My eye is good, my eye is good, I don't need medicine!" At this point she is also squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as humanly possible. So, stud husband puts her on the bed, wraps her in a towel (to subdue flailing limbs), leans on top of her, pries open eyelids while I hope and pray that the one drop makes it in the first time. Then we get to repeat for the other eye. It's great fun!

Princess has a cold. She can't breathe out of her nostrils, this is what she has told me 236 times. I handed her a Tylenol Cold pill last night to which she looked at me and replied,"What do I do with this?" Well you stick it on the back of your tongue, drink some water and swallow. My kids don't do pills. Perhaps this is good news and will deter them from developing bad habits in the future. But for now, when the term miserable comes up repeatedly, swallow the damn pill. This is not exactly one of those things in life you can teach a child either. I mean, those three steps are about as good as it gets.

So she tried, and I admit it wasn't the smallest of pills, but still half the size of a prenatal vitamin! And she tried. And she tried. And she bounced around the kitchen with her chipmunk cheeks full of water, motioning to her mouth, shaking her head no. It was a performance worthy of an Academy Award. Finally I told her, "Spit it out but I don't want to hear about how miserable you are tonight because I am going to bed."

She spit it out and threw a little fit about how she's upset because I'm upset because she can't swallow a pill. I wasn't upset in the slightest, I can pop pills just fine, and I could breathe freely through both nostrils, and I slept like a champ. I did give her a dose of that oh so yummy NyQuil to help ease her pain. We bought some Sudafed today. If she can't swallow that itty-bitty thing then I hope she hasn't inherited my fear of needles. Because really she's a big girl now, it's shots and pills here on out.

AND...

Playoffs, I'm out!

And this happened, why? Well because my players are so good and their teams rock so that when they get way ahead of the competition, my players sit. On the bench. Because I have no New England Patriots on my team, I suffer. It was pure torture watching that no name scrub rack up yardage and TDs when my stud LT just sat there the whole second half. Agony! To top it off I lost to a guy I have never lost to before in the three years of our league. Not only that but the last time we played I destroyed him 160-70! So you can imagine, I am not taking this well.

And when I was kicking ass and taking names I DID NOT talk about my fantasy football prowess to you people. Last week when I made the playoffs, I tooted my horn, possibly a big mistake. As they say in Bull Durham, "You don't mess with a streak!" I messed with it, I'm done! So new jeans, bye-bye!

On the bright side, I still am in the lead for the most points and if I keep that up I will win around 150 bucks which would almost buy me some jeans. Except for the fact that I never paid my 50 dollar entry fee, nor did my husband. And I haven't paid my nearly 20 dollar free agency fee, nor has my husband. So those fees will be subtracted from my winnings which leaves me with a whopping 10 bucks! Which might cover the gas for the drive to Nordstroms so I can at least see some jeans, maybe touch them, and before security determines I am a big loser and not worthy enough to be in their store, I might even smell a pair.

I was so close, so so close. Better luck next year! The Football Chic will be leaving the blog.

And she's ready for her Astros. Only 99 days to go...