Guess Who Has Lyme Disease? Hereditary

Guess who has Lyme disease:  Hereditary??

By definition, the word hereditary means determined by genetic factors.

Simply put, it can be passed down from generation to generation because Lyme is not properly diagnosed (or misdiagnosed) or treated promptly

Lyme disease and co-infections are a generation to generational gift.

ME!

Although I’ve never been sick like Callie was I know I am a carrier of this little gem because she had it.

A tick can carry Lyme disease.

However, Lyme is likely to be congenital.

Ever notice that people in your families have similar health issues?


It doesn’t matter that you have had a negative test for Lyme.


Callie had three negative tests.

For more information on hereditary Lyme Disease, please head over to GARD Website.

Lyme Hereditary

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A New Series on Lyme Disease

**This series on Lyme Disease was initially posted a few years ago.  I’m reposting the Lyme Disease series to bring awareness to those who are new to my blog.  One family’s story of healing through faith and “atypical” type care.  Please be respectful of Callie’s story.  If you have any questions, throughout this month, please do not hesitate to comment or email me at thebarefoothomeschooler.com.  Thank you.**

Special Note from Lesley

January is always a reflective month for me. Another birthday, a new year and another anniversary of just how good God has been to hear our cries.  He has healed our daughter.  We began this journey over 11 years ago.  God was so gracious to forewarn us that trials were headed our way. Somehow, we stumbled our way through with hours of prayers, research, and tears.  In the end, as He always does, He delivered us and held true to His word.

Six years in the desert.  Amazingly He never left our side.  Even now, 5 years after Callie’s healing He is still bringing blessings our way through the many people sent to us to help.  Oh, and the five-year update on Callie? Healthy as a horse, applying to grad schools and graduating this spring! God is faithful!

Lesley

Lyme Disease Symptoms

 

New Series:  Reposted

Starting today or tomorrow, I will be having a guest blogger.  She is going to do an intro post telling about herself and her daughter’s struggle with undiagnosed Lyme Disease and the effects it has had on her and how she was healing through proper diagnosis and treatment.

I have known this lady for about 24 years.  We were pregnant together with our oldest daughters, so the sweet girl who struggled is one that I had loved on when she was younger and prayed for as she has grown into a beautiful young woman.

They want their story to first and foremost honor Jesus.  God gets all the glory for all the ups and downs this family has gone endured.  Through Him, he placed people in the right places to get this sweet girl the help that she so desperately needed.  He gave her a hope and a future when most people just gave her medicine or the possibility of a deem and pain filled future.

I’m super excited about this.  In honor of the on that Callie was healed (which is the month of January), I will be posting, daily, the snippets of wisdom that will hopefully help at least one person find out answers.

Want More Info?

If you have any questions or comments, please do not hesitate to comment below!  I will contact my friend, Lesley, and from there will hopefully give you an answer.

Miracle on November 17, 2011

Miracle on November 17, 2011

 

HE IS COMING HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here is my Miracle on November 17, 2011. Praise be to God.  We are so thankful that our eyes are opening, our hearts are willing, and our minds are preparing for adopting an older child.  What a journey we are fixing to embark on in the coming days.
Yesterday, I got a call at 9:15 am, and it was immigration.  The officer said that she received our addendum, the mother’s birth letter (blessings and prayers for her) and PART of my income verification, but not the one part that they need.  Ugh.  I told her I was on it.  Next, I called and was blessed to speak with the same person I’d been talking to for the last few days.  It was then that I explained, again, the situation, she transferred me to her supervisor and her supervisor was on it like white on rice.  It was sent.
Finally, I got another call from immigration stating that the documents that were in hand were too faded to read.  In addition, the officer asked if we had the originals.  Sadly, we did not have the documentation in original format.  I told her that I was on it.  At that point, I called my agency, Sheila called her right-hand person (Angela)…and Angela began to work her magic.  She made all the documents bright and shiny, rescanned them, and got them sent to immigration.

Final Confirmation

I called immigration to confirm that everything was sent and I actually spoke to my officer (which is not so easy a task).  She has been WONDERFUL with our case and our family.  I asked her if everything was received and she said: “yes, your packet is done.”  I just kind of sat there and said: “what packet, I don’t understand.”  She stated that it was our APPROVAL packet and that we were approved.
I just sat there, then I balled…it was loud and really really ugly.  All I could say was THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU.  She was pretty pitiful too.  She kept saying “Oh, Brandi, please don’t cry….please don’t cry, your son is coming home, please don’t cry.”  I couldn’t get out any more words other than “must go to my husband.”

Telling Big Daddy and my Children

I wanted to be so coy about the whole thing and attempt not to let the girls know till I told Big Daddy first. Well, that plan went out the window.  I stood at the top of the stairs…screaming for them.  They blew up the stairs asking what was wrong.  Finally, I screamed WE ARE APPROVED…there was lots of yelling, crying, praising Jesus, and hugging going on.
My next thought was  “he needs undies and socks…we have none.”  It is amazing what can go through a person’s mind.  I told them to get dressed, we were going to daddy.  That drive took FOREVER.  We finally got there (no coat and flip-flops for one girl; no socks or teeth brushed for another girl, and I looked like I had been run over by a train).  I got into HR and asked to see Big Daddy.
The girl behind the desk said “this must be an emergency…you look really upset” LOL.  She even escorted me to a conference room.  Big Daddy walked in…I told him…it was beautiful.  We have a tentative flight schedule, tentative keep the kids’ schedule, and Big Daddy bought my boy some undies and socks 😉

Theme Verse

Yesterday’s verse of the day was Phil 1:6 “For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus.”  This verse has filtered throughout the last 13 mths.
It was first told to me by a precious lady, in my Wednesday group.  She would say over and over that what God brought me too…He will be faithful to bring me through.  The night before we got our approval…another wonderful friend emailed me stating the same thing.  Before approval, I went to post something, and that was my verse.  I knew yesterday would be the day for a miracle.

God Changing Me

In the end, God has changed me…He has begun the healing in our family.  As well as, He has revealed that shortcuts are not His will.  Also, that I need to be patient and wait on Him rather than try and control the situation.  God has revealed to me that all things come together for His good.  He is good.
God is good….now off to pack.
Blessings.
Related Posts:

More Sadness on October 25, 2011

More Sadness on October 25, 2011

 

More Sadness on October 25, 2011.  Sadness, on a really gorgeous day.  Another day with no word from immigration on our newest paperwork submission.  I’ve been praying, daily, that it will happen.  Yet, today and there is still nothing.

Discouraged

Well, that’s one word.  There are several other words that I have, but none need to be aired out on the internet.  Most words, however, are not Biblical so I should not even type them out.  It is hard to see, day after day, posts/emails/etc. about successful adoptions that have little to no issues.  We have worked so hard, we’ve learned so much, and yet our son is still not home.
I’m not sure what the Lord is doing, but I pray that He is working this all out for His glory.  Somewhere inside, I *am* happy for these families.  I just wish this story was our story.  I’ve distanced myself from people to guard my heart and my sanity.  I sincerely hope they understand.
First, I feel like I hear a family say, “we’re adopting.”  Then, two days go by, and I hear “we have a referral.”  Next, two more days go by, and I hear “We were approved by immigration.” Lastly,  two more days go by, and I hear “We are traveling next week.” Finally, before you know it, the child has been home a month.  The same family is doing this all over again.  They do this because it was “so wonderful” the first time around.

Our Story:

We’re adopting.  Then days, weeks, and months go by.  Finally, we have a referral.  Next, days, weeks, and months go by, and we get word that we are traveling for court.
Adoption is finalized.  The day after we get home from this international adoption, a letter from immigration.  Sadly, immigration says ‘we need more stuff from you.’
Another set of days, weeks, and months go by, and we hear “we are intending to deny you.  You should’ve never traveled in the first place.”
Shock.
Oh wait, more days, weeks, and months pass on by, and we get our first (of many) denial.
After even more days, weeks, and months saunter by, and we hire an attorney, find a job for me, life change for my kids, new home study agency, and new home study.
Then we wait another few days, weeks, and months.  The home study is done, and now we are waiting for an attorney.  Which takes, you guessed it, days, weeks, and months…crickets…
Still, waiting on our attorney.  Our attorney sends us and immigration more paperwork, and because of that, we fork out more money.  Then, in one week, immigration wants more evidence.
Eventually, we get evidence sent off again.  Over a year later…..WE ARE STILL WAITING.

I.  Am.  Tired.

I’m tired.  I have a little fight left in me.  There was one friend that said that due to us having “so” much trouble, that must mean that God doesn’t want him to be in our family.  Every ounce of me wanted to smack the taste out of her mouth.  That kind of negativity is not needed.  I need prayers, regardless of the outcome.  I eat, sleep, breathe, work with my son’s face in my head.  Praying, daily that God will show us all the way and for a person to say that, well, they needed to be smacked.
What God has brought us too…He will be FAITHFUL to bring us through.
I cling to that.
Until then….we wait.

Watching and Waiting September 25, 2011

Watching and Waiting September 25, 2011

Watching and Waiting September 25, 2011.  It is a blessing…it is also hard…


I received 8 new pictures of our son, whom we have not touched since Oct 2010.  


He is 1 yr. older and amazingly, he is *so* much bigger.


We are watching him grow up, in pictures.  His booboos are healing, through pictures.  There is no mama to kiss them and make them better.  Also, we are watching his smiles and giggles, through pictures.  Sadly, there are also tears and illnesses that we see, as well.  I am so thankful that we see him play and are able to watch him grow, all through pictures.

Please join us in prayer.  For our son to come home.  Instead of watching his triumphs, milestones, and booboos through pictures, we can see them in person.  

Thoughts (from 2018)

Adoption, International Adoption, Older child adoption, Special needs adoption is not easy.  It is the hardest thing, I have ever done.  The Lord has refined me, strengthened me, and enabled me through it all.  For example, my marriage is stronger.  I learned that Bart is a rockstar of a husband.  When I could not function, he functioned for both of us.

There are many things I do not remember about this time, sadly.  He rarely talks of it because I see the pain in his eyes.  Bart shouldered more than any man should.  Easily, he became the mom, dad, advocate, parent, breadwinner, and so much more.  I cannot express my gratitude enough for how he carried us all.  He is my person, my best friend, and the one whom my soul loves.

Related Posts:

Ethiopians and Codeine Warning

A Priest, A Deaconess, and a Baptist: September 21, 2011

A Priest, A Deaconess, and a Baptist:  September 21, 2011

A Priest, A Deaconess, and a Baptist: September 21, 2011.  We all work together at the store, and we seriously write our own jokes 🙂
When we, as a family, decided that I needed to go back to work, it was hard.  I cried, A LOT because I’m a creature of habit.  I’m one that needs routine, and when it is shaken, it rocks me to my core.  Controlling?  Maybe.  I just know that I like what I like and change is not one thing that I want.
My whole world changed.
My kids went back to PS, my oldest was still being homeschooled, but our whole life turned upside down.  I was blessed when I got my job…I was trained by THE SLOWEST WOMAN ON THE PLANET, but she is definitely the sweetest thing…ever and she is genuine, honest and stable.
When I got assigned my department, a regal looking gentleman with kind eyes and a radio-worthy voice, caught my eye.  I wanted to know who he was because he happened to work in my department and frankly, I needed all the help I could get, not knowing anything from anything.
Priest
I introduced myself and quickly learned that he was going to school to be a deacon in his local church.  To my credit, I didn’t realize there was a “school” for a deacon.   So I went ahead, took the plunge and blurted out my thoughts (completely unsanctified thoughts).  The question came up about where he went to church.  My sweet priest stated that he was Catholic and that they were going back to their Biblical roots of positions in the church.
Enthralled is one emotion I felt and I wanted to learn more.  I began asking questions like “so, what’s up with the Pope?”  “What do you do and why do you kneel/stand so much”  “explain the hierarchy of the church and their positions.”  He answered each and every question, and he still does, to this day.  He is very tolerant and understanding of my ignorance.  It is clear, he knows God, he knows Jesus, and he loves them both dearly.
I am blessed.
He sees me when I’m having an “off” day and tells me to get busy before I break down.  Frequently, he hugs me when I need it.  After one particularly difficult day, he told me to get busy.   He walked up to me and said with love in his eyes “this means more to me than anything and I’m giving it to you for peace.”  It was a beautiful rosary.
I knew the magnitude of this gift, but he explained the prayers that you pray using the rosary.  Finally, encouraging me to pray.  He has walked through the aisles, at work, and prayed over me.  Also, he has sent me emails of prayer.  A precious soul, this man has been to me.
Deaconess
Now, onto the Deaconess…she hasn’t been working with us long, but she is short, black and a firecracker.  She is completely and utterly in love with the Lord and her family. In fact, she doesn’t see working at our job as a “job” she sees it as a mission from God.  Looking at every opportunity to witness and let people know her faith.  Amazingly, she is an encourager, a protector, a friend, a confidant and she oozes grace and dignity.
She is not shy about her faith.  For example, she has laid hands on me, with customers waiting and prayed over me.  Also, she held me when I cried, she has cried with me.  She has told me more than once “speak it into existence.”  It will be.  Watch your mouth….don’t let that negative stuff come out, don’t speak negativity into existence.  I’m continually saying something and then catching myself because I think she will hear me and whop me outside the head for expressing negativity.
Be positive, wait on God.
During the trials of this adoption…I have learned that it is okay to cry. That I can be mad, that I can be sad, that it is okay to talk to people.  I hold so much in.  I don’t like to burden people or feel like I’m regularly playing the same tune on the violin.  Between my Wednesday night girls, my Deaconess and my Priest….I’m surrounded by love, prayers, and understanding during my hard times and there have been so very many.
Our trial is soon coming to an end.
God will bring my child home before the year mark is up.  I’m speaking that out, in the Name of Jesus.  I’m so thankful that during this time, God has seen fit to bless me, at work with such influential people of faith.  He has blessed me with a strong family of faith and a strong church of faith.  When your daughter sends you messages at work that says “mom, I love you and remember to CLAIM IT.”  I know that God is working and He is showing my family and me His grace and mercies throughout this challenging year.
The year is coming to an end…..my son will be home by next month.  I’m choosing to believe.

I Can’t Save the World: September 16, 2011

I Can't Save the World: September 16, 2011

 

I Can’t Save the World: September 16, 2011.  Crap on the tiara….mess on the cape…..the world isn’t going to be saved by me.
What a crappy day filled with crappy drama and crappy people.
According to the dictionary “crappy” is an adjective or a describing word.  It means to be “nasty, humiliating, insulting or unfair.”  I would concur with that meaning and say that what was said about me was nasty, insulting and completely unfair (though humiliating doesn’t describe it at all).
I have am a “fixer” person.
I like to help people.  My favorite thing to do is to see people succeed.  To be all that they can be (no, I’m not in the army, though when people see me with my kids, they would beg to differ).  I want people to know they have every opportunity to dream and attain their dreams, even when they screw up.  There *are* second chances.
With everything going on in my life, with the challenges that my family has faced…..I have lost my fight.  I’ve lost my will to defend.  I’ve lost my ability to leave my emotions at the door.  On any given day, I deal with reactive attachment disorder, learning disabilities, girl scouts, church duties, volunteer work, my job, my home, bullies, bad grades, evolution issues, and the ever-present adoption nastiness.
Bread Analogy
You know, when those (crazy people) who like butter on their bread (I’m not one of those people).  Picture me as the bread and all the issues of life as the nasty, one molecule away from plastic, the cheap butter….the kind that merely will not spread no matter how hard you try.  You take your knife, dip it into the “reactive attachment disorder” butter and try to spread it out…the bread begins to flake.
With each other issue (adoption, learning disabilities, etc.) you continue to dip your knife in, in hopes of something good coming out of it and each time you *try* to smear it on your bread, more chunks come off and eventually you are left with giant lumps of bread all over the table and a broken crust.  That’s me…the broken crust.  My butter is not getting any softer, and my bread is in tatters.
Decisions
I’ve chosen to give up an important thing in my life and a not so important thing in my life.  One was a hard decision the other was an easy decision.
Comparing my issues to the Cross is a whole nother ball of wax.  Nothing I go through even holds a tiny flicker to what Jesus did on the Cross for me.  He died with my name on His lips.  He died to set me free, so I can be free and live in eternity with Him.  I’m so thankful for what Jesus did for me.
I really really wish, though, God willing…..He would, for once, give me some spreadable butter.  That’d be nice.

Chasing Pigs: September 13, 2011

Chasing Pigs: September 13, 2011
I Can’t Save the World: September 16, 2011.  Crap on the tiara….mess on the cape…..the world isn’t going to be saved by me.
Chasing Pigs: September 13, 2011.
Got a phone call, last night, from our friends across the street.  I was snuggling up to Big Daddy, we (all of us) were having a movie night and enjoying “The Adventures in Babysitting” (with the assistance of our lovely clear play machine).  Well, Brian is not the quietest person on the face of the planet and his voice BOOMS when he talks, and the earth shakes with his incredible laugh.  Love to hear him laugh.
Anyway, I heard the words “lost” and “pig” in the same sentence.  I looked at Big Daddy, and I asked him if he said that he lost a pig and if he did….when, on earth, did he get a pig?  Her name is Petunia, and she was a runaway. So, all 5 kids excitedly get on their shoes, turn on all the outside lights and head out to search for the lost pig.  To no avail.  Petunia was nowhere to be found.  Sadness.
I thought little else of it, last night.
Went onto bed and this morning, got up to take the 3 youngers to school.  I’m not a typical “get them to school” mom where every hair is in place.  I’m a throw on your pants, pull your Tina Turner hair in a ponytail, giant zit shining on my chin and no bra kind of mom.  We jump in the car, pull out, and I slow down thinking…”did I just see a giant pig?”
Why, yes I did…so the kids and I try to flank said pig.  She is HUGE and I “assumed” she would be slow.  I was severely mistaken.  Just cause your fat, doesn’t mean you can’t move like lightning. A woman, looking like I do, with no “support” because just running the kids to school doesn’t require putting support on….it is not a pretty sight.  Not.At.All.
Let’s just say…pig 1, Brandi and kids 0.
Get the kids to school, and what do I see, on the way home, but the pig, in the neighbor’s driveway is flanked by 2 dogs.  Easy as pie.  I stop, gather the “girls” up for another run at the pig and off we go.
Pig 2, Brandi 0
I stop at my friend’s house, and she is just as disheveled as I am.  I’m greeted at the door by Precious Child #1.  I could merely eat that little girl up.  I love it when someone is *so* happy to see me that her whole face lights up.  She lets me in, mommy has just rolled out of bed, holding Precious Child #2.  I’m in Heaven…sheer heaven.  Rocking one baby, sitting with the other, watching Tarzan and being in the company of a friend.  I tell her of my “issue” with the pig.  She doesn’t seem concerned, so I just sit and rock.
Soon
I realize that I have to be ready for a visitor at 9:00 and I are looking, not appropriate.  Big Daddy’s only request was that I brush my hair, teeth and wear a bra.  I passed on my girls to their sweet mama and headed out.  As I’m getting in the car, I look up in the distance to see that stupid pig running down the road at full speed.
I knock on friend’s window, tell her where the pig is headed and she flies out the door with an infant in hand, toddler trailing behind her.  I pick up Precious #1 cause she doesn’t’ have shoes, and as we are standing in the front yard, we are both squinting down the road to see the black speck that is Petunia.  She hands me Precious #2 and flies in the house to get her shoes on.  I take both girls to my house to feed #1 breakfast and just to smell #2.  In the process, I get Peach out the front door, with her bike and she heads out to help corral the pig.
Later
Pig 3, friend & kid 0
It.  Is.  ON.

Mantra: September 9, 2011

Mantra:  September 9, 2011

Therapist
Mantra: September 9 2011.  My therapist always told me (yes, I was therapized in my life) that I’m like a mother hen, I get my wings spread out and I gather all my little chicks under me to keep them safe.  I don’t like the unknown, I don’t like change, and I certainly don’t like being thrown into the fires of hell with nothing but a water pistol.
That’s okay, though, come Monday, I’m going to stop by Charming Charlie (if you have never been to this store….be prepared to stand in awe of all the things that sparkle.  I believe I salivated a bit when I first stepped through the doors).  At Charming Charlie, there is a back area…I think that it is a secret place where the only people who belong are those who have made friends with the “friends” in their mind (that’d be me).  Well, they have tiaras!!!!!!!!!!!!!  They are so stinking cute.
Fires of Hell with a Water Pistol
I want one to remind me that I may be walking through the fires of hell with my water pistol, but I’m also a princess of the KING, and He is standing in front of me, beside me and behind me.  He is letting me use said water pistol, because of my constant need to control….once the fire begins to consume me, though, I yield to His presence, and He takes over and stomps that fire out without even breaking a sweat.
My Cape
As for the “cape” in my new mantra….well, I’ve always wanted my life to be like a musical (i.e., The Phantom of the Opera or The Sound of Music)…the cool people *always* had capes; therefore I sense that I need one for posterity.  I tend to make songs up and sing randomly throughout my house when I’m driving (who needs a radio) and at work.  The kids, who I work with, love it when I work nights because come about 8:30, I begin singing show tunes……
It has been a long, long, long, long road since my last post.
Things are still up in the air with my son and when we can bring him home.  He remembers us, though, so that gives us comfort.  He is loved, he is fed, he plays hard…that gives me comfort.  I still want to be the one that comforts him.  I want to kiss his booboos when he falls, I want to fix his supper, I want to tuck him in at night, I want him to hear his mommy and daddy tell him how much he is loved and treasured.  How much we’ve prayed for him and for this whole situation to be rectified.
Fasting
I have devoted this week to do my first fast….can we say…UGH.  The things that steal the most time or that I love the most is to be given up.  I decided on giving up Facebook and coke…COKE.  Do you *know* how much I love coke?  I drink it out of the can, hot; I drink it in a giant mug with crushed ice; out of a wine glass; out of the fridge; anyway I can get it is how I drink it.  I.LOVE.COKE.  I love everything about coke.  I love that way the fizz goes up my nose, the way it burns when it goes down my throat…love love…coke.
Focused Prayer

 

During this week, I’m focusing on prayer and prayer of *very* specific things.
-for approval
-quick embassy date
-to travel before the end of the month
-B’s job situation
-healing within our family
-for Gigi to be completely healed
It is a big list, but I have a big God, and I’m choosing to pray to believe that giant miracles are headed our way.
So…..here I go, with my tiara and cape in hand (more like Bible and scarf) and I’m going to conquer the world 🙂
Additional Posts:

Save Me I’m Drowning

In the Mean Time: November 4, 2010

In the Mean Time: November 4, 2010

In the Mean Time: November 4, 2010.  Another one of those memories that make me giggle…now.  It is a beautiful fall day.  The wind is whippin’ through the trees, the clouds are floating around like large cotton balls.  There is the smell of burning leaves outside, the smell of vomit inside.  Ahhhh, gotta love these little moments of life.
Whispers of Sweet Nothings
As I was in a peaceful slumber, this morning at 1:30 am, my sweet stud of a husband crawls in bed…cuddles up….with what I thought was the whisperings of sweet nothings in my ear.  Alas, it was the whisperings of “Peach just puked in her bed.”  He sure does know how to get a girl moving 🙂  Bless his precious pea-picking’ heart, he took care of the “mess.”  He actually shook out the chunks off the blanket, close to the patio and onto the boxwood, out back.  He even washed the bedding for me.
Oh, Wait, There is More
I went downstairs to check on said puker, and she was pretty pathetic.  She had a puke bowl and was looking a bit gross.  I asked her if she wanted to come upstairs and sleep on the couch.  She wanted too, so we made her a bed and settled in for the night.  All was well in the world…everyone sleeping, B headed off to work….then there came a whirlwind in my bedroom…it was Boo.
“Catfish just puked up some sort of vegetables in his bed!”  Alrighty, then…that’s nasty.  Me, I don’t do vomit.  I’m a great kind of “after the puke” kind of mama, but the grody stuff…I’d just as soon forego.  I walk into his room, and there it is, chunky wads of green beans/corn and some other foreign substance.  I’m trying not to complete blow chunks while cleaning this nastiness up.
Flinging the Chunks
I gathered what I could and took it out front (I’m an equal opportunity gal since Peach’s chunks were out back, I thought it would be a good choice to throw Catfish’s chunks out front) and shook out what I could, behind the boxwood.  I walked through the house and realized that my feet were sticking to the floor.
My sweet husband (I really am thankful), when he cleaned out Peach’s bed, he carried the blanket out, without being uber careful not to drop vomit droplet’s all down the hall, through the dining room, then back through the kitchen, onto the laundry room floor.  Gross isn’t even the word to describe this moment.  I mop, mop again and then mop for the third time.  I *thought* I had it all cleaned up…that’s what I get for thinking.
Resorting to Vacuuming the Chunks
Since I couldn’t properly get the chunks out of his bed, by his mattress or on the floor, I had to resort to the vacuum cleaner.  Doctored up his bed, sprinkled baking soda on the mattress and the carpet and turned around to see Bug, green…not so much with envy, either.  She was blowing chunks, as well.  I gave her and D some, and they laid back down.  Boo was good, so I let him play the Wii while I laid back down.  He took the dogs out and said that the “cold air made his belly hurt.”  UGH.  I had the 4 sickly, upstairs resting and the one well one, we cleaned house and took care of business.
Chicken Update
She was moping, again..and I went out to check the chickens.  The 4 hens and Big Red rooster were waiting for their breakfast and some fresh water.  I obliged, with joy.  I do enjoy my chickens.  The boxes that my kids and neighbors made were ready for some wood chips, so I brought them into the bedroom/bathroom section of our coop.
There he was, Nugget aka Einstein (depending on the kid who is doing the talking)….he was perched way up top of some shelves.  I got to looking at him and realized that something was different…he was totally missing an eyeball.  He has always been the small one of the bunch, and the hens didn’t care for him, very much, so I’m guessing that they pecked pecked pecked on him.
All of this while I’m STILL hoping and praying that immigration approves us, but that is a whole nother story….today is strictly vomit and one-eyed roosters.
The fun never ends, does it…
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