Contrary to all appearances, I'm still keeping my journal -- just not coherently enough to share.  I'm not going to bother with turning those fragments into complete sentences; instead, a recap:

Gastroenteritis.  I can't quite spell it without help, but it's the Word of the Month in our house.  It's more commonly referred to as The Stomach Flu, which isn't really the 'flu at all.  (Flu = fever, aches, pain.  "Stomach flu" = vomiting and diarrhea.)  I can spell diarrhea now -- I can spell it with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back.

The majority of us experienced gastroenteritis mid-December.  Mari, Bri, Wilson, Kendric, Kirby, and Logan.  Most of them were over it within 24 hours.  Not Logan.  Finally, on Christmas Day, when he couldn't keep down his Pedialyte and showed only vague interest in his Christmas gifts (and excused himself to use the bathroom and Myra found him sleeping next to the toilet and his lips were turning blue and...), we brought him to the hospital for IV fluids:

When it just wouldn't stop (a week and a half later), the doctors prescribed some high-powered anti nausea medication -- the stuff they give to chemo patients.  (We checked with our natural-remedy-friendly doctor friend in Montana; she said she would have done the same thing.)

Apparently his digestive system was horribly irritated and is taking a long time to recover. We're keeping a journal of what he eats / when he eliminates to see if there is some particular thing that aggravates his diarrhea -- perhaps he's developed some sort of allergy / sensitivity to ... something.  Mostly, now, I'm just trying to fatten him up. He's being a stinker about eating (doggone it, kid, you WILL eat that white chicken chili, I don't care if it looks like poo), but at least he's done with the vomiting.

Kirby brought him in for a follow-up on Monday and asked to take him off the prescription.  The doctor agreed to let him try a placebo, so every night, Logan gets half a piece of Pez candy.  So far, so good.  Ha.

Morning is my favorite time of day.  Mostly because it's the only time of day Wilson is still enough to cuddle with me.  He climbs into my bed, snuggles under the warm blankets, and begins the day with quiet conversation.  With a flashlight (the sun), my clenched fist (the earth) and the ceiling light fixture (the moon), I explain things like the recent lunar eclipse...  He tells me about his daily observations -- about life, the universe, everything.  The house is quiet so I don't laugh out loud, but trust me, I'm guffawing inside.  ...  "I spy something... white!"  (Ha.  By the dawn's early light, pretty much everything is white or black or grey.)  ...  And after a brief silence, he squirms and asks me to scratch his back.  ...  I love that kid.  

Motherhood changes people.  It changes dogs, too.  I didn't particularly despise Wendy before, but I didn't particularly love her either.  Now that she has puppies, the changes in her behavior have rather endeared her to me.

Yep, we have puppies.  Two of them.  Three weeks old.  Their eyes are open, they're starting to walk around, and their teeth are threatening to make appearance any day now.  They both look like their mother, but her lab traits are more apparent in the female (Abba), and the rottweiler traits are more apparent in the male (Dug):

I've been crocheting like a crazy woman: hats and mittens for the kids, hats for Christmas gifts, hats for friends at church...  A friend of a friend has offered to sell my stuff for me; we'll see how that goes.  I think the market is saturated at Etsy.com, but I opened a shop for the fun of it -- mostly 'cause I fell all clever about my name: A Spool Full of Sugar.

In other news, I spent the day updating Kirby's resume.  *sigh*  Layoffs.  Again.  Who knows, maybe Kirby will find a job closer to home?  We'll see.  In the meantime, we have meat in the freezer, wood in the shed, food in the pantry, and God still knows what He's doing...

Logan: I have an arm, but I'm not allowed to use it!

Monday:  Paper crafts website: paper Kung Fu Panda, paper tetrahedron dodecahedron, etc.

Tuesday:  Logan back to the hospital for more IVs, diarrhea sample, not giardia.  Tired.  Crocheted brown and green double-ply beanie and chunky collar and stripey hat.

Wednesday:  Crocheted two hats for Lori, with Lori's chenille yarn.  I would have never picked the stuff up, but it's nice material.  Not my color choice, but great texture.  Logan is chugging the Gatorade, wistfully watching the rest of us eat our baked oatmeal, PBJ, and pizza.

Cold outisde, cozy inside.  A perfect day for paper crafts:

Recommended site: Instructables.com.

These little polyhedrons are made from 12 paper squares:

This shape begs bolder, brighter colors, but this is what we had on hand:

We welcomed the new year with a bang.  Er... more of a hoot and a holler.  In the last moments of 2010, Kirby and the kids threw on their boots and coats, snatched pots and pans and spoons, braved the blast of freezy air that greeted them at the front door, and danced in the road shouting, "Happy New Year!"  Someone down the street echoed their greeting.  They stayed out just long enough to enjoy some of the fireworks, then rushed back in toward the fireplace.  The pans, as they were returned to me, stuck to my hands.  Brrr!¹

We weren't planning a New Year's party.  But Cyndi phoned and asked if Myra would like to spend the night before Melody had to go back to school.  When I realized that they didn't have plans for the night, I welcomed them to count down with us -- and they accepted!  I spent the day making Russian tea cakes, pico de gallo, a banner, etc.

Bri made back labels for everyone:
Dan = Adam Pontipee
Cyndi = Mary Poppins
Sam = Percy Jackson
Melody = Captain Hook
Kirby = The Karate Kid
Kari = Nozzles the Elephant
Mari = John Casey
Myra = Yzma
Kendric = Superman
I made Bri's label, definitely the most difficult: Miss Scarlet.
I was the first to guess mine.  The first, biggest clue was that the Loutzenhisers had no idea who I was.  Bri couldn't remember Miss Scarlet's name, even after she knew she was a character from Clue.

Cyndi brought a new game, Spot It; super simple yet super fun.  Caysen and Logan played Snorta!; they laughed and loved it, even though it was just the two of them.  Mari, Bri and Sam brought sleds over to the plow piles in the parking lot of the church down the road; it was so cold, the saucer sled cracked in half.  Kirby and Dan played darts downstairs...

Then the inevitable dance party.  The girls taught Cyndi and Melody the line dance for Cotton Eyed Joe...  The Cha Cha Slide...  Kirby danced the jitterbug with Mari, then Bri, then Logan -- when he twisted Logan through the air, all the little kids wanted a turn...  Myra brought out her microphone, and Mari sang her way through the ABBA playlist.  Good times, good times.

After the Loutzenhisers left (with Myra) and the boys were tucked into bed, we tidied up a bit.  Bri cheered the fact that her month of laundry duty is over (and with such a long bout of vomit and diarrhea in the house, her relief is understandable).  Mari and Bri raced to be "the first one to hug Mom this year."  (I don't deserve this kind of affection; they're just sweet kids.)  We made the usual rounds through "This is the first thing I've eaten since last year," "This is the first song I sang this year," and so on, until I declared I was going to bed, "Because I haven't had any sleep since last year."

This morning the floors are clean, the house is warm, Kirby is watching Bowl games with Kendric, Wilson is soaking in a bubble bath, Logan is learning a new computer game, the girls are at the roller rink with the Loutzenhisers.  To be sure, the rest of the year won't be nearly this cozy, but I'll enjoy today for today.

¹I wasn't watching the thermometer at midnight, but according to Weather.com, Post Falls recorded a low of -4°F on Dec 31.

In the dark days of winter, as the sun sinks southerly in the sky, we are shaded for most of the day by the ridge that borders our back fence.  We can see the sunshine from the window, but it doesn't touch our yard 'til the last hour or two before sunset:

Shivering, stomping snow from our boots, shaking snow from our hair, we have just returned from the theater, where Bri and Myra performed in the CYT "Play in a Day" -- from auditions to curtain-rise in just over 24 hours.

last night:  Neither of the girls have been through auditions before.  They were nervous -- but you'd never know by looking.  Myra gathered her paperwork and queued for the 8-10 auditions alone, looking every bit like an old pro.  She grinned her way through measurements, smiled broadly at the portrait camera, and skipped along with her group to the audition room.  Bri had time to observe the kids in the room, "Looks like most of these kids aren't paying much attention to the behavior agreement we signed."  As the 11-13 kids filed toward / past the registration table, it was obvious that many of them are CYT regulars.

Bri came back a bit deflated.  "They started the dance test with me, but I didn't even get the hang of the steps 'til they were halfway down the line."  We waited around

I'd never seen Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, so though I could tell they'd only had a day to learn the songs, I was amused.  The Elvis Pharoah was the obvious star, but my girls shone.  Shiny, shiny.

Over a week of vomit and diarrhea makes Logan a dehydrated boy.  Christmas Day = no urgent care centers are open.  We could maybe have waited until tomorrow, but tomorrow is Sunday = no urgent care centers are open.  We could not have waited until Monday, so today... tomorrow... either way, he was going to the ER.  Why wait, then?

Looking pathetic in his baggy jammies (but cute coat), Logan walked through the doors of the hospital toting his shiny steel barf bowl.  The nurse welcomed him to his ER room, "What is your name?"  "Logan."  "You're cute."  "I know."  Later, when Logan was rattling off impressive math facts (no, I can't spell my last name, but I know 300 + 400 = 700), she said, "You're smart."  "I know.")

He was so still and good for the needle.  "I wish all my patients could be as good as you."  The bed tilts and rolls and all sorts of fun things, "This is actually fun."  Well, I'll remember that next time Silverwood is closed for rain.  As we left, he said, "The only worst parts were the waiting and the pins."