Time to learn the Baltics!

You aren't supposed to freak out over Lithuania. It is the other two - Estonia and Latvia. Here is the Estonia link on Youtube and the Latvian link is the pirates on the right. I still have the pirate song embedded in my brain.

Estonia


I am starving here. Right before I left, in yet another visit with the snake venom doctor, I gave up a gallon of blood for allergy tests. The results were available when we came back, and it will be possible to eat, but the fun is gone. The foods I am allergic to and can eat no more than twice a week: yeast (no more bread, pretzels, etc.), bananas, garlic, dairy. I have to give immediately and forever more - rice. Rice is considered a hypoallegenic food, but I know for a fact that it makes me feel like a run-over armadillo whenever I eat it. I always assumed it was the accompanying beans. And, if I trust my new internet knowledge, rice can be a scary one to have because from one exposure to the next, you can go from gut cramps to anaphylactic shock (or however you spell that word). And all I want in the whole wide world is a piece of cheese toast. I know it could be worse - I could be allergic to pickles, or wheat, or soy, or nuts, or (ahem) mayonnaise, but dang, it is making life complicated. I had no idea that yeast was in so much stuff. And rice. I love food labels.

Guess where I am going this week? Mississippi to pick up Pete, the wonder dog. He has been shedding all over my mother's place of abode and rearranging pillows, and even though she knows he is awfully darn cute, she is sick of his hair in her food. Joy, joy, joy another eight hours in the car.

Oh! I am planning the best birthday ever for monkey boy. It is called the Build and Destroy Party. I originally had visions of wood and nails, but I have modified it to duct tape and cardboard. The boys are going to be given their own personal roll of duct tape, and a huge pile of cardboard boxes, a couple of pair of scissors, and then be ignored for 45 minutes. When they finish their peacefully, team-organized, masterpiece, they will each receive their own set of screwdrivers ($1 at dollar tree) and a Goodwill appliance that they can spend the next part of the party taking apart and maybe? putting back together. And Monkey doesn't even want a cake. He wants an ice cream bar. I am loving this party. Whenever I show up at a business to beg for boxes, I always find a man, tell him the theme, and he happily starts looking for cardboard. Nothing like endorsed destruction and creativity combined to get the testosterone pumping. And, just because I am clearly nuts, Monkey is getting his own personal pocket knife because he wants to take up whittling. His sister is already ordering furniture for her doll house, and he agrees to provide it.

Boo's cute quote of the day, in response to "where do all these kisses come from?" My stomach is just full of them, and I have to give some away.

Regardless of what my husband thinks or my own children's opinions, they are living with my forever. Well, that is not true. My first "run away" threat happened today. Monkey got mad at me when I told him he couldn't read a book until he did his schoolwork, and so I was labeled as MEAN, and he was leaving. I remember doing this to my mother, and she packed my suitcase with roller skates, but Monkey boy only made it to the tree in front of our house. He came back later and said he didn't run because he was too hungry. If it was always so easy. The funny thing is, his sister who generally considers him to be a boil on the butt of humanity, was in tears and went searching for him. She was appalled that I just kept eating my yeasy, cheese, and rice free hotdog and was not properly distraught.