February is short

Toast and Gatorade may make this the fifth non-consecutive day this month I don't take rescue meds.  Also ice packs and heat packs, darkness and stillness and silence.  I wonder if I should have just done hospital week again but, Sasha and Emily were in such a state.  Whatever, we're here now and I'm bent on improvement.

I think Sasha is headed for day three without pain meds, if she makes it the rest of today.  No, four days, I just checked!  God of all things...

I would love to parent again.  Emily is turning into a disgusting teenager.  Actually I'm just mad that I'm typing on a dirty gross computer with chunks of whoknowswhat on it.  It's hard to enforce anything when you're just fighting for survival.  Actually, I think we do a good job taking care of each other, and thankfully the girls are both very good at communicating.  Sometimes it's through screaming, but even that's better than nothing.

Well, Sasha feels crappy, so I'm done writing.  Management time.