no rest for the wicked, or a mom

After feeling miserable for six days, on the seventh day I finally went to the doctor. I couldn't take it any longer. Errrr, rather, the Pastor couldn't take it any longer if I kept him up another night because I 1. couldn't breathe 2. coughed 3. sneezed 4. was blowing my nose. A lot. The Pastor said if he missed any more sleep I'd end up in the hospital from being forcibly removed from the bed. So I thought I'd go see the doctor.

And why shouldn't I freely enjoy these last 12 days of our deductible being met?

I did my usual refusal to look at the number on the scale at the doctor's office (I've found those things to be horribly inaccurate.)
The doc said it was a good thing I didn't wait any longer to come in, because I have bronchitis.

After the doctor, it was off to the bank and the pharmacy to get my prescriptions. To give you an indication of how bad I felt, I didn't even want coffee. Then I had to go pick up some gift cards. Then it was off to a fancy grocery store 7 miles away because I don't live in one of those super-fancy cities where you can buy something exotic like marscapone cheese on every street corner.

After that, I still didn't get to go home and be sick. It was more work and errands until I had to pick up Nate from school. Next was a driving lesson for him. Followed by a standing engagement our family has - Monday Night Tacos.

After dinner, there was running around with the family including this being the one night we could all be together to look at Christmas lights.

We got home after 7, and I still had Nate's birthday cake to make. Since Nate loves chocolate chip cookies, I wanted to make him a chocolate chip cookie cake I had seen in Martha Stewart Living. You know what that means. Sifting was involved. Which also means once again in my life I had to Google "do you measure flour before or after you sift?" How did people bake before the Internet?

I secretly think Martha's true crime was not anything she did with money but what she does with her recipes and crafts. I think she leaves just a little something out so you don't know just how much of a pain whatever project or recipe you are working on will be until it is too late. You just end up feeling inadequate and Martha is somewhere in Connecticut laughing maniacally.

I just needed 8 dozen of Martha's cookies measured out by tablespoon and baked 14 minutes until crispy. Once I started baking the cookies, I had the soon-to-be birthday boy hovering. I had to tell him "You cannot touch that cookie dough!" and "No! You cannot eat a single cookie even though I am baking them for your birthday. I need them for your cake." His reply? "Why didn't you just buy me a cake?"

I didn't let Martha get the best of me today. Here's what her cake looked like:









Here's mine so far (top layer doesn't go on until you serve):










The Pastor was extremely helpful: "You needed a recipe for that? It looks like you just stuck a bunch of stuff between some cookies."

Must. Not. Throw. Cake. I've. Worked. So. Hard. On. At. My. Husband.

Now it is 10:45 p.m. and I still haven't rested like the doctor wanted me to. I haven't been at home all day, much less lay down. The doctor also wanted me to take some Benadryl - and I had to explain to him I didn't have time for a coma.

I'm going to take it now and go to bed. God created the earth in six days and then had a day of rest. I don't think it is any coincidence that this occurred after he created a woman to take care of everything for him. I imagine that woman was a lot like Martha Stewart.