I am a pig hater. Oh, I like bacon, ham and sausage and all…but, when I’m the sickest I have been in about seven years, and it’s because some pig went and mutated the flu virus, then I have every right to hate pigs.

I have H1N1, also known as swine flu. I did everything right. I got my seasonal flu shot the first week they were available and planned on getting the H1N1 vaccine. I wash my hands A LOT, I wipe off my shopping carts at the entrance to the grocery store, I use hand sanitizer as soon as I leave a place where I have touched anything and I never, ever use a drinking fountain.

I am taking Tamiflu and have been resting and drinking lots of water for the last two days, but I am still fighting a fever, aches and a cough. I have asthma, so that coughing thing scares me quite a bit. I’m pretty concerned about my kids too. My daughter went to bed with a headache (which was one of my early symptoms) and my son is high risk because of his heart. Your prayers are appreciated.

This blog is mostly light-hearted and I would like to keep it that way. I’m taking a break. I am really sick and if I wrote anything it would likely be a whole lot of complaining. Just ask my husband.

Please send good thoughts our way. This virus is so not good for my anxiety issues.

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I do not sleep. Chronic insomnia has plagued me since I was pregnant with my daughter some 11 years ago.

I have tried everything short of an acupuncturist and I even have one of those lined up. St. John’s Wort, Melatonin, anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds have been ingested, relaxation techniques have been used and I have one of the most comfortable beds and pillows I have ever rested upon.

For the most part my problem exists because I worry a lot. Sometimes it’s not even the worrying, but rather the constant chatter in my brain. Keeping my cell phone next to my bed helps a little because I can jot notes into it in the middle of the night (using paper and pencil was pretty tough in the dark), but even that doesn’t keep the stress of everyday life at bay.

This weekend, we took a trip to my in-laws’ house. They live in a small, southern Ohio town in a big, old house with gorgeous woodwork and a great front porch. One of those roomy porches, with a swing and everything. Sigh.

They live across the street from an enormous park where my husband and I walked the dogs and let the kids play until they were so filthy I barely recognized them. We drank some beer, ate homemade food, played cards with the kids and watched football.

At one point on Saturday, my body sunk into their comfortable couch and before I knew it, I woke myself up with my own snoring. Classy, right? Whatever. I don’t even care. My in-laws had 11 kids, so they’ve learned to tune things out. I allowed myself to doze off and on the entire afternoon.

That night, as I was checking e-mail, I fell asleep at the computer desk. I stayed that way, slumped over with my head on my arm, until my husband came to check on me for fear I had died. That’s how much I don’t sleep. My spouse saw me with my eyes closed and thought I had passed away.

And, yesterday after church I told everyone I was going to lie down. I climbed the steps and tucked myself into bed…and I went to sleep. I napped, people! That simply doesn’t happen.

At my in-laws’ there is no agenda, no laundry, no meetings and no work. My kids can play freely without me looking at my watch so we can hurry off to the next thing on our schedule.

I have always said I would dislike living outside the city, because I would be too bored. There just wouldn’t be enough to do.

Apparently I’ve been wrong all this time, because not having enough to do was exactly what I needed.

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This article has suggestions for buying jeans for women with curvy figures. Um…really, Women’s Health magazine? Because the only curve I see is that bended knee.

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If you haven’t read between the lines you may not be aware that the name of this blog is a bizarre take on “Mom of Ali”. Years ago when I created an online account and gave myself the user name of “momofali“, my best friend sent me an e-mail asking, “Who’s Momo Fali?”

Since then, or at least since the creation of this blog, I often go by the nickname, “Momo“. As far as nicknames go, this is significantly better than when my elementary school classmates called me “Dog-Star Diane”.

But, even though I am Momo Fali, I am Mom of Ali as well. And, that Ali? Is one heck of a kid.

I talk a lot about my son’s struggles, but his older sister was even smaller than him when she was born. Ali arrived 10 weeks early, weighing just 2 pounds, 9 ounces. That was almost 11 years ago. Considering where she started, she has faced a fair amount of obstacles herself.

Her biggest challenge is being the sister of a kid with medical problems. It is not easy. At all.

There have been times when she was promised a day of fun and she’s ended up sitting in the emergency room because her brother was sick. There have been mornings when we had to drop her off at a neighbor’s house at the crack of dawn so we could get him to the outpatient center for an early surgery. And, there have been countless meals when she’s watched her brother choke and vomit at the dining room table.

Needles, meds, doctors, surgeries, therapy, x-rays…these things are a part of her life just as much as they are part of ours. Knowing what she does about life at the ripe old age of ten, just doesn’t seem right.

Don’t get me wrong. She’s still a pretty typical kid. She bosses her little brother around, she talks back a lot and I’ve actually seen her spit her dinner into her napkin and then feed it to the dogs. Though, truth be told, I’ve wanted to do that myself a few times.

Despite the things she has seen, or possibly because of them, she is amazingly well-adjusted. She is smart, responsible, kind and compassionate. I am lucky to have her.

It is time that I told her so. Just like the letter I wrote to my favorite teacher last week, I am hoping she reads this so she can know how great I think she is.

Maybe, just maybe, it will actually get her to clean her room.

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