Babies!!!

So we've had a little trouble here at the epicenter of the universe with one of the kids so I've been a little distracted and unbloggy. And because of that trouble SSB and I only made it to Grand Cayman for our much-anticipated vacation by the skin of our teeth but we are here, albeit a few days later than planned.

Actually today is our last full day and M&V left this morning. We were all supposed to leave together but our itinerary got rearranged at the beginning AND the end. Oh well. It's the middle that matters anyway.

I will (probably) blog a whole travel log that I've kept when we get back (cuz I know everyone is always thrilled to hear about other people's vacations!) but until then I wanted to direct you over the the Queen B's blog about a family going to Guatemala to live in and oversee the baby dorm of an orphanage (Casa Para Ninos Aleluya). Newborns to 5 years old. I don't know about you, but I can't even imagine a better way to serve God. ITS BABIES!!! 60 to 100 BABIES just wanting to be fed and held and cuddle and loved. Its like a dream job. I mean, if you can stop yourself from thinking about the sadness of them being orphans in the first place or what might happen to them later. And maybe the safety of your own family while you're there. But its God's work. You'd have the Big Guy on your side.

I'm sitting on the beach in paradise crying my eyes out at the opportunity this family has and the fact that they have taken it. I wonder if they need a few pairs of hands from Texas to help out. Hmmmmmmm.

BABIES!

Pink Baby 2.0

To add to my stress level while Bunny was in the hospital a couple weeks ago, my cell phone (a Cingular POS) was dying a slow death. Whenever I tried to charge it, nothing happened. Then when I went to unplug it, the guts came out with the plug. If I held on to it real tight I could get it to charge, but I got several hand cramps that way.

So last weekend when it finally gave up the ghost and wouldn't charge at all, we went phone shopping and this is what I got:

I call her Pink Baby 2.0. I'm not really in to pink or cutesy, but I must have been in a cutesy mood that day.

The original Pink Baby is a doll I was given by my Uncle Jim and Aunt Rose when I was born. I looooooved that doll when I was little. Other dolls came and went but Pink Baby remained. For a time when I slept with every stuffed animal I had, she held the coveted space next to me. When I read to myself in bed I pretended to hook up wires from my head to her's so she could listen to the story too. (How lazy is that? I wouldn't even read out loud to her.) She slept under my arm pushed under my chin and as the night wore on, eventually she got squished beneath me. But it was OK because she was soft.

She wore a fuzzy pink snowsuit-type thing that didn't come off and covered her hands and feet. And she had a music box in her back. I don't remember what it played, maybe Rockabye Baby, but I remember when it broke and my mom performed a laminectomy on her and took it out. She still has the scar.

I am the only one who has ever loved her. Everyone else who sees her makes fun of her and I just don't get it. They think she's creepy because she has no hands, scabby knees, and ham hocks. Oh, and because I cut off 2 of the 3 little wisps of hair that poked through her hood.

What do you think? Creepy or totally lovable?

Bunny Breath and a Cookie

Last week we woke up at 5 a.m. and Bunny was having a hard time breathing. She was working really hard just to squeeze a wheeze out. We didn't have any Albuterol for the nebulizer, only the steroid Pulmicort and when I called the pharmacy for a quick refill I found out we didn't have any left. Beeman had just done a mask the night before and I didn't realize that was the last one left.

I brought her in to the doctor's office at 9:00 and 5 breathing treatments, 6 suckers, and 4 times of watching Toy Story over and over later we were sent to the hospital. She hadn't gotten worse during the day, but none of the treatments made her better either.

Doesn't she look like she needs to be hospitalized???

They really shouldn't have parked that wheelchair in her room. It was the hit of the day when the kids came to visit her. Note her gloves and tippy toes. Tee hee!The floor was covered with black marks after they left.

The hospital staff was AWESOME. Because of her food allergies there wasn't a lot on the menu she could have so the Dietary staff even went out that night and got her some Rice Krispies and rice milk for breakfast the next morning. That was above and beyond, I thought. I hope they send me a survey to fill out.

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SSB got up at 4:30 a.m. on Black Friday and went and bought us an awesome new TV because ours petered out a few weeks ago.

Of course the best part for the kids was the big box it came in. They got in it like a big sled and slid down then stairs over and over and over. Each time they added a twist that made it a little scarier. Right before one particularly harrowing ride down I heard Beeman say, "If we don't make it, put a cookie on my grave."

I don't know where he came up with that one, but it cracked me up!

Honor

A couple months ago Bugaboo received a letter saying she had been nominated for the National Honor Society. I didn't think she'd want to do it, but the day the application and essays were due she scrambled to get it all in on time.

A few weeks after that I got a letter saying she had been accepted. Woo hoo! I thought it was very exciting but she didn't seem to share my enthusiasm. She took the letter and put it in her room.

As she was leaving for school on Monday the 3rd of this month she said, "Are you going to be there tonight? It starts at 7 and I'm supposed to work until then, but maybe I can get someone to take my last lesson and cover for me." Huh? SSB was out of town for the day and Taz had a guitar lesson from 6:45 to 7:30. That's all I knew about.

As I stared at her blankly she said, "The NHS ceremony is tonight." I told her the obstacles in the way but that I would try. Really hard. She left saying OK and still acting like it was no big deal.

I got Dupree to take Taz to his lesson and Pootie watched the younger kids so I got to go to the ceremony. As I was driving into the parking lot Bugaboo texted me, "Are you coming????" Geez. For someone who wants to seem like she doesn't care about this, she sure was caring a lot about this!

Her boyfriend The Cradle Robber met me at the auditorium door and we sat as close to the front as possible. We saw her over on the side and made faces at her, which got us both an admonishing text message. :)

I texted her to just wait because we were going to jump up and down and scream when her name got called.

We didn't do it though. The ceremony wasn't too long or boring and she didn't trip as she walked across the stage to sign her name in the book so it was all good.

All of us are very proud of her.

Shedding A Shivery Tear

Fall is my favorite time of year. I love the smell of the cooler air and of ripe apples. I love keeping the window open at night and burying under the warm covers. I love seeing the leaves all over the sidewalks and lawns and watching them skip down the streets like they’re racing with the cars that go by.

Pumpkin patches, scarecrows, geese flying in V’s, homemade potato soup and bread, and thick sweaters. Dark evenings perfect for curling up with a book and a blanket under the soft glow of a lamp.

But amid all this loveliness right about THIS time of fall I get angry. The day after Halloween all the stores drag out the Christmas booty. Half of Wal-Mart is red right now. Red ribbons, red dinnerware, red candles, red dish towels. Everything is red and Christmas-y and I’m thinking “What about Thanksgiving? Why does everyone gloss over the best holiday of them all?”

And it IS the best holiday of them all. No spending money on costumes or presents or baskets full of chocolate tooth-rotting bunnies. Just family, friends and food. I don’t have to worry about disappointing someone by not giving them the exact right thing that they wanted. All I have to give is thanks and that’s easy.

If you look hard you might find some autumn/harvest/orange-ish items on an end cap or in a corner back by the bathrooms and it makes me sad. I know a lot of people get started early on their Christmas shopping, but that is on GIFTS, not décor. There should be more time dedicated to Thanksgiving in retail stores and maybe there will be more time dedicated to in society. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if people focused on being thankful and grateful for weeks at a time instead of focusing on what they want to add to their Christmas list?

Shoemaker's Elves

Blah blah blah. Halloween costumes.

Blah blah blah. Trick or Treating.

We've all heard all the stories. Except this one.

The area dentists have some deal with Payless Shoes in which they exchange candy for shoes for the less fortunate. I don't know exactly how it works but its Candy For Shoes. Our elementary school promotes it and we can donate the candy straight to them and they'll get it to the dentists. Last year I let the kids keep a pound of candy each and then we donated the rest.

Apparently the teachers have been talking it up to the students because BeeMan knew all about it. Last night while trick or treating he kind of ran out of steam and said he was done. He had enough for himself AND some shoes. I said all right, he didn't have to go to any more houses.

After we got home and they had their booty all poured out on the floor making Wall Street-worthy trades with each other, BeeMan asked if we could make the leftovers into shoes ourselves.

Suppressing a giggle, I just said no.

He said, "Yeah. I guess you need a special machine."

Yes. Yes, you do. Or some elves.

Pride

I got a letter in the mail last week that said PootiePie had been selected to receive her middle school's "Lion's Pride Award" and there would be a ceremony Friday afternoon right before school let out. She didn't say anything to me about it and I didn't say anything to her about it, thinking it would be a surprise for her Friday afternoon when they told her to go to the auditorium instead of Athletics.

They give out this award to a few students from each grade (6th-8th) every 9 weeks. Bugaboo got one in 7th grade and this is actually Pootie's second time to receive one. The first one she got at the end of 6th grade. A teacher nominates them based on the Six Pillars of Character: Respect, Fairness, Responsibility, Trustworthiness, Caring and Citizenship. Pootie thinks she knows who nominated her because that teacher always makes her sit with "the bad kids".

SSB and Bunny and I headed up to the school with camera in tow for the ceremony. As the choir sang a couple songs to open things up, I scanned the seats for Pootie. No sign of her. Because they were sitting in alphabetic order, I found the kid she was supposed to be next to and saw an empty seat with her name taped to it. Shitballs! No one told her about it. I went out to the front desk and told them and they sent a runner to go get her from class, but she didn't come. When the dismissal bell rang the ceremony was still going on so when I saw her come down the hall I dragged her in there and brought her up to the stage. Several students had not been notified so even though most people were leaving, they were still announcing late-comers. Pootie was mortified and very crabby with me, but by God I was going to get a picture of her receiving that certificate if it killed the both of us.

Seems like the person whose job it was to notify the kids that they had won could use a few lessons in responsibility and trustworthiness. And caring. And respect.

Hippy Chick *Updated*

We went to a 60's party last night at M&V's and I found this shirt for Bunny at the last minute at Goodwill. It makes a better hippy dress than shirt. She loves it and wouldn't let us take it off of her last night OR this morning. She is still wearing it She is the girliest girl EVER. You can't see them in this pic, but her toes are painted the same color so she is feeling very chic.

*UPDATE*
And here is SSB as Sonny Bono. He looked AWESOME. He looks like Italian Sonny Bono or a Mexican bandito. Either way, he rocked it. (Straightening his hair with the flat iron wasn't fun though.) I, on the other hand, don't make a very good Cher. Fat blonde chicks can't pull off skinny, black-haired Cher very well.

Dinner and a Movie

Last year around Halloween the older kids wanted to watch some Vampire movies so I made an event of it. We rented "Lost Boys" "Interview With A Vampire" and "Bram Stoker's Dracula" and I made this penne pasta dish with Italian sausage and LOTS of garlic. Real garlic that had to be roasted and pressed, not garlic powder. The whole house and its occupants smelled like garlic for a week.

This year we wanted to do something like it again but didn't have a movie picked out until yesterday when I threw it all together at the last minute.

The boys were gone this weekend so it was just the girls and us, Bugaboo's boyfriend (Cradle Robber), Dupree and SSB's mom. I picked The Shining because SSB was the only one of us who had seen it. (But he didn't even remember what RedRum meant so I figured it had been a while.) I was 11 when that movie came out and I wanted to see it SO badly but never did. I'm not sure why I wanted to see it because the only other scary movie I had ever attempted to watch was The Silent Scream and as soon as some girl got slashed to death on the beach my sister and I were OUTTA THERE. We went to the lobby and called our dad to pick us up. He told us about how he went to see Phantom of the Opera when he was little and had gotten scared too. But he was only 5 years old so it didn't make us feel better about being so chicken.

The fun part of last night was trying to find some foods to tie to it. This is what our menu ended up being:

Appetizers/Snacks:
Chips and Outlook Rotel
Chips and Hell On The Redrum salsa (Cradle Robber's sister's family makes this line of sauces called "Hell on the Red".)

Main Course:
Chicken with Crazy Jack Cheese (I couldn't come up with a very good name for that one. I had never made it before. I just found the recipe on the internet and went for it.)
Wendy I'm Homemade Fries

Beverages:
Red Rum (adults only)
Room 237-Up Punch
Heeere's Johnny Apple Cider

Dessert:
Mr. Hallorann's Chocolate Ice Cream

All in all it was a pretty good night. But scary movies are scarier when its quiet and there are no interruptions and the suspense can build. That didn't happen here with Bunny and PootiePie around. Maybe I can come up with something else and we can try again next weekend.

Sucks To Be Just Another Cog in the Wheel

So. I got a call from the elementary school principal yesterday. Not a note from the teacher. Not an email from the school. A CALL from the PRINCIPAL. This was Big Time.

Snickety and his friend got mad at a couple other boys at recess and called them a name. A BAD name. A name so bad that I gasped (ME!) and then tried not to giggle because she,THE PRINCIPAL, had said it. I will never be able to look at her the same ever again. Every time I see her now I will hear that word over and over in my head. Anyway. She said they will have to stay in at recess for two days next week and she was sending home a discipline referral form for me to sign and send back. I apologized to her and thanked her for calling. Then I waited for school to get out.

I picked the kids up and acted normal, but for the knowing glares I gave Snick. They went right over his head. I asked how everyone's day was. "Goooood" they all chimed. Really? I asked. Everyone, all of you, had good days? Nothing bad happened? Nope. Great days, in fact, because it was the first early release day ever. OK. We'll just see about that, mister.

We got home and I told Snick to put his backpack away and then come down and sit on the couch. SSB and I were in chairs facing the couch just like I'm sure an FBI interrogation room is set up.

SSB: So. What did you do today?

Snick: Well. First we had regular class, then we went to recess, then we had Switch Class, then we had lunch, then we came back and had AR time then we packed up to go.

SSB: Oh. What did you do at recess?

Snick: Well. First I got in line to play kickball because I thought we were going to play but no one else came. Then I walked around by myself. Then I saw some boys playing with a football and I thought they were playing Jackpot which is my favorite game so I went over there. But they were playing football so I asked if I could play.

(My heart is breaking a little right now but I gotta hang tough.)

SSB: And did they let you?

Snick: Yes.

SSB: And that's all?

Snick: Yeah.

Me: Time out! I don't think that's all. What else happened? Where else did you go?

Snick: No where.

Me: EH! (buzzer noise) Wrong! Let's move on to you going to the principals office.

Snick: Oh.

SSB: Why did you get sent to the principal's office?

Snick: Well. These guys on the other team made a touchdown and they were being really mean and bragging about it and then when they punted it they hit Daniel with the ball on purpose. He called them names and then I copied him and then they told on us and when we went back to the room the teacher took us to the office.

Me: What name did you call them?

(Ready for this??)

Snick: A cogsucker.

SSB and Me (trying really hard not a laugh): A WHAT??

Snick: Cogsucker. I don't know what it means but it is inappropriate.

SSB: Yes it is. But what you said isn't what they think you said. They think you said _______ sucker (Edited for family reasons. One of them being my dad he thinks I already have a potty mouth.)

Me: Do you know what that means?

Snick: No.

At this point SSB, all flustered and floundering, goes on what I call a "Sin and Syntax Rant" trying to explain American colloquialisms and slang and getting his tongue stuck to the top of his mouth in the process. At a convenient stammering point I jumped in.

Me: Penis! It's slang for penis. So when you said they were _________ (again edited so as I won't be disinherited) what does that mean you say they do??

Snick just stared at me with a mortified look on his face for what seemed an eternity. Then instead of answering he just said, "I get it." I like that answer. That boy will go far in this world, I do believe.

I'll spare you the blow by blow (tee hee) of the whole conversation but what it comes down to is that the other boy said it first. He had heard it on a movie, he said. Snick copied him in a misguided attempt to avenge his friend. The school doesn't know that he didn't actually say the REAL version but that's OK. He'll do his time for calling a name even if it wasn't what they thought it was and he didn't know what he was saying.

He knows what it is NOW though. And he will NEVER SAY IT AGAIN!!!

Bikini Kill

Love you like a sister always
Soul sister, Rebel girl
Come and be my best friend

Crying Buckets

If anyone is in the mood for a good cry, click here to go to the Queen B's blog for today. Its the sweetest thing ever. But sad too.

Good News and Bad

The good news first.

SSB called the urgent care last night and told them what an undesirable, non-compliant patient I am and how the crutches really didn't mesh with my baby-schlepping lifestyle and asked for an orthopedic boot instead and happily they gave him one. Yay. This is much easier.

Bad news is that the shirt didn't work and I did NOT stay 39 Forever. Oh No.

4 For 40

After limping around for 5 days and screwing up my back in the process I decided it was time to get my foot checked out last night. SSB took me to the urgent care up the street. They are doing some remodeling. I think they are adding an ArtistMommy wing. ;)

Anyway. They took some x-rays and when the doctor came back in after looking at them he was kind of chuckling to himself. The top of my big toe is broken in four pieces. "Shattered" he said. I don't see what's so funny. We got to see the x-rays as we were leaving and one of the breaks is a whole chip on the side. He gave me some crutches even though I wanted a boot. I am not using them. How am I going to hang on to Bunny through the parking lot when I take BeeMan to the dentist this afternoon if I'm on crutches??? A boot would be so much easier. Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me??

Today's the last day of my 30's. Or is it????

If This is 40 . . .

. . . what am I going to be like at 80?

Last night I was coming down the stairs and shutting down my laptop at the same time. I stopped on the landing to close the last program and then started walking again. I used to be so good at multi-tasking. Not so much anymore, I guess, because I wasn't really on the landing - I was a stair or two up and proceeded to walk right off like Wile E. Coyote walking off a cliff. Only I didn't hang in midair and hold up a sign like ol' Wile E. would. I went straight down on my right foot, toes first, flipping the toenail and then the big toe back. Oh. My. Grossness.

This is the second time in my life this nail has been sacrificed on the alter of pain to the podiatry gods. The first time I was about 10 years old and shared a room with my sister. One day she thought she'd sneak up, throw open the door and scare me. Little did she know I was standing right on the other side of the door brushing my long 70's hair in the full-length 70's mirror we had mounted on it. Right after my mom pulled it off with a pair of tweezers I tied a piece of red yarn around my bedpost to remind myself to be a hermit when I grew up.

I woke up this morning and my toes were stuck together from all the blood and gore that had oozed out during the night. Of course I took a picture or two for blogging purposes. Go ahead and click on those bad boys and get a good look. But pay no attention to my grown-out pedicure. That alone is enough to scare you.
As you can see, the top of my foot is bruised. I don't know if my toe is injured or not. My whole foot could be crushed and it would be nothing to me compared to the nail being loose. I get REALLY sickened by loose nails. I think I'm all right though because I can hobble around on it by walking on the side of my foot. But I am used to that due to the whole 1986 Fantastic Frostbite Fiasco that caused me to walk on the sides of my feet for a very, very long time.

Just to nauseate you further, the dog keeps coming and licking it and flies keep landing on it.

A few weeks ago SSB dropped a big, huge heavy thing on one of his middle toes and it was SO gross and he was in a lot of pain. Why, oh WHY, didn't I give him more sympathy and attention???

I've now blogged about my pink eye, my black and blue butt and finally this. Head to toe. I've covered it all now, right?

You know, I think Rock Band 2 would make my toe feel much better. Much.

More from the mind of Snick

"What do you think would happen if humans were the only living thing in the world?"

and

"What do you think would happen if the earth was controlled by something inside the earth?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like if there was a big display in a country that had like a sponge or a donut or something and all of the earth and space and beyond was in it or on it and if someone came and ate it we’d basically be in him. And if he got sick then we’d get thrown up probably."

That kind of seemed like two different things to me. The explanation seemed like it went with a different question but I just asked, "Why would someone eat a donut that was on display?"

"Well I’m guessing he’d be a hobo or something and it was the security guard’s night off."

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Thursday is his turn to say the prayer at dinner. This was tonight's:

"Dear Lord, thank you for this food Mom made for us and I pray that we get our chores done quick so we can go out and play again. Amen."

Working Out Was Never So Easy

With only 12 weeks left until SSB and I go to the Cayman Islands with our friends M & V, it is time to get serious about getting in shape. Apparently the imminent arrival of my 40th birthday has not been enough of a motivator . . . but being in a swimsuit for one week solid hopefully will be. This means less eating and more exercising because bulimia is a lot harder to develop than you'd think.

I've read that keeping a food diary is key to weight loss. My sister told me about fitday.com a while ago and I've used it from time to time but not consistently enough to do much good. SSB and I logged on today and started the ball rolling.

It isn't just a food log, they have EVERYTHING!! You can put in weight and nutrition goals and track your mood, weight, measurements, and activities and it will spit out graphs and reports. My favorite part is where you put in how many minutes you participated in an activity and it will tell you how many calories it burned. And they have TONS of activities in there. You can even put in taking a shower and toweling off. This is IN ADDITION TO the basic calories you burn just by being alive. Score! I never realized that good hygiene was an exercise.

I'm all for keeping track of how many calories I burned and not so much on what I ate. Like I popped a few of Bunny's wheat-free pretzels in my mouth but I'm not gonna tell fitday about it. And if I did I would probably tell them it was 3, not 12. However, if I talked on the phone while standing for 10 minutes that would definitely get recorded.

This morning I started scouring the different categories looking for anything I could count as exercise. I skipped all the Walking, Running, Biking, and Fishing and Hunting categories because that would just be a waste of my time. Ditto for the Water and Winter activities. I knew I didn't go snow shoeing yet today. My pot of gold was lying in the Miscellaneous (reading while sitting) and Inactivity (watching TV while sitting quietly) and Home (reclining with baby) categories.

That Home category is my best bet. Just the "carrying small child" and "putting away household items" activities are going to take up most of my minutes. Listen to all the stuff you do every day that you can record as fat busters: vacuuming, watering plants, mopping, child care, elder care, cleaning house or cabin (cleaning a trailer or houseboat apparently doesn't get you squat), washing dishes, washing the dog, playing with children and animals (those are separate but they burn the same amount in case you're wondering), knitting, and making a bed just to name a few. Its awesome. According to this marvelous website I am a calorie burning MACHINE!! (My thighs tell a different story but I'm not listening to that one.)

Admittedly, I don't do a lot of knitting so that one is probably out. And there are others in that category that I will also not be participating in, although I'm sure they just melt the fat away. These include maple syruping/sugar bushing, cooking Indian bread on an outdoor stove and butchering animals.

What the?? How did those categories even make it onto the list? I'm thinking the only people who routinely go sugar bushing and cook bread outside and butcher animals are Quakers, Amish and Mennonites and they don't even have computers to track their activities on anyway. I think some list-compiling employee over at fitday needs to have a little more supervision.

I'm going to take advantage of all the other ridiculous ones though. Playing cards, food shopping with or without a cart, and changing a light bulb are all getting written down. Oh, and they don't have playing Rock Band on there but they do have a whole category for music playing and I'm thinking its just the same thing so I should be a size 3 in no time.

Due to interruptions it has taken me 2 full hours to blog this relatively short post. And that, my friends, is an easy 210 calories burned.

August Crush

August is always a yucky month for me and this year is even worse than usual. If biorhythms tracked monthly ups and downs and not daily ones, I'd try to blame it on that. As it is, I don't have an explanation. I just go with it.

I will try to get out of my funk as quickly as possible and get back to blogging, but until then try some of these blogs if you haven't already:
Queen B
Dooce
Jen On The Edge
Notes from the Trenches
Bee's Musings

Follow the Yellow Drip Road

On Wednesday Snickety and BeeMan's room was a disaster so I sent them in there to clean it. However, as soon as I turned my back they both slipped into their bathroom. Together. Kids together in the bathroom with the door closed is never a good thing. When my sister and I went into the bathroom together we were either eating spoonfuls of Country Time lemonade powder or doing experiments that included piling baby powder and Old Spice aftershave onto a Kleenex.

I didn't actually notice them until BeeMan came out. And being naturally suspicious, I opened the door and caught an eyeful of Snick sittin' on the pot. Nice. I closed the door most of the way so I could talk to them both and asked what they were doing in there. Beeman said they both had to go to the bathroom really bad RIGHT THEN. I pointed out that they can't go pee at the same time anyway (which they COULD but I wasn't going to say that, lest it become it pastime) so why didn't Snick clean the bedroom while BeeMan was going to the bathroom and then BeeMan clean while Snick was going? He shined me on and just said "Oh yeah. We could have."

I kind of thought there was more to the story but I have to pick my battles so I just went downstairs. A few minutes later I heard SSB say, "OK, but I still have to tell Mommy you lied to her" and he came downstairs quietly chuckling and told me I had been duped. I said, "By whom? The little freckled-faced one?" Yes.

Apparently as soon as I left BeeMan opened the bathroom door and said, "Whew! That was a close one!" Not gifted in the area of sneakiness, he said this within earshot of SSB who was obviously sitting in the next room and thus began the interrogation. Knowing they were busted, they folded like a cheap card table and made the job very easy. They spilled their guts about how they had been peeing into empty pop bottles and keeping them hidden in their closet. Why? Because they wanted to see how yellow the toilet would get when they finally dumped it. OK. Time for good cop/bad cop and I am always Bad Cop. ALWAYS. I went upstairs and made a dramatic entrance into their room where they were busy as beavers cleaning up.

"I'm mad!" I announced. "Do you know why?"

"Because we peed in bottles" BeeMan whimpered.

"No. Because you lied about it. You guys can pee into your HANDS for all I care but you can NOT lie. And Snick, even though you didn't say a word, it was still lying on your part."

"OK."

"So. Do you guys want a spanking or do you want to do an extra chore?"

"Extra chore" they said in unison.

"OK" I said as I left. "And if you want it to be yellow, just take a vitamin in the morning."

Tee hee.

So now they have started over to get it yellower. Here it is hidden in the sleeping bag in their closet. Ew.

Elton John is a Prophet

Yes, that's a NY jersey not a Green Bay one. And all morning I can't get the song "Benny and the Jets" out of my head. You know, Benny as in "Benedict Arnold" the traitor. I don't think this whole thing is his fault entirely or think that he's a total traitor but I feel like it a little bit. When he found out the Packers (stupid Ted Thompson) didn't want him back he could have just dropped it and stayed retired. That's the way it would have happened if the CoftheU were really in charge. Then he could have gone out in style like he did in March and kept it that way instead of all this mess.

And to all you Packers fans who have booed Aaron Rodgers, SHAME ON YOU! You are giving us a bad name and tarnishing OUR reputation. Rodgers has kept his dignity throughout this whole thing and not said one bad word against anyone. He has shown a lot of class which is more than anyone can say for you boo-ers. You can love Brett and be on his side and NOT against Rodgers. This has never been and Aaron -vs- Brett thing and you should be ashamed of yourselves. Especially the little 6-year-old boy AND his parents from this article.

Green Bay, My Patootie

Two things are on my mind today.

The first one is the whole Packers -vs- Brett Favre fiasco. I hate thinking about it and admitting to myself that it is even really happening. Everyone is talking about it and they all have an opinion and it gets confusing when I try to wrap my head around it. But you know the saying, opinions are like @$$h0le$, everybody's got one.

And speaking of asses, I come to the second thing on my mind. SSB's sister, brother-in-law and nephew are in town and we went to a water park yesterday. I almost stayed home and feigned cramps or diarrhea or dengue fever or whatever I might get away with because being a natural redhead (that has faded to blonde surely on its way to grey), the sun and I don't get along well. But mom-guilt got the better of me and I joined them. Turns out I should have lied and stayed home.

I took two trips down a water slide and am paying dearly for it. When you first go down the chute of this particular thrill, you run over these white drains that look like the heating and air vents on the ceiling of most houses. Very ridgey. The first time I went down and felt the drains of death I thought, wow that hurt. So the second time I thought I'd stay propped up on the innertube a little more so my ass wasn't dragging. But as I looked down the seemingly straight-down slide I must have chicken out, puckered up and hunkered back down into it because my cheeks went rolling over them again, just like driving over the rumble strips on the side of the highway.

SSB thought it looked bad last night but today is even worse. Just like Favre's reputation I am battered and bruised and taking a beating. And with both of us, its getting uglier every day.

Words will not suffice so I am exposing myself to the whole bloggy world. Granted, there are worse pix on the web and I DO have undies on this one, but I am forewarning you anyway. You may not want to scroll down if you are in the presence of small children or are at work or are, say, MY DAD. Or maybe you're just not in the mood to look at my almost 40 year old butt. And you if you should choose to continue, you COULD click on it to get a bigger, better idea, but probably you shouldn't.

Scroll on, brave soul. Scroll on.
















So there you have it. Lock, stock, and smoking barrel. I am taking my black azz and logging off. Good night.

Boy, That Was Some Good Peein'

And speaking of my birthday, as the Big 4-0 quickly approaches I am becoming increasingly aware that I have less and less time to get into shape. Its now or never.

I have lost the baby weight from Bunny, but big woo. She'll be two in September. Celebrities lose their baby weight in mere weeks. Besides, my pre-pregnancy weight was about 10 pounds more than I was comfortable with anyway. And it was 20 pounds more than would make me gleeful and conceited.

So SSB and I have been working out and cutting carbs. The other day we went to the gym and I alternated between walking and running on the treadmill for the longest 20 minutes of my damn life and then I lifted weights. Triceps and quads and calves. Oh my. When I got home I re-weighed myself, just for farts and giggles and was happy to see I had lost 4 tenths of a pound. I'll take it. I did a little happy dance to the shower and was doing my best Gene Kelly impersonation, splashing and soft-shoeing, when SSB came in the bathroom. He weighed himself, turned around and took a piss and then weighed again and lost 6 TENTHS OF A POUND. Just like that. I had to almost kill myself and all he had to do was pee. And he has the bladder of an INFANT. Its not like he pulled a Jimmy Dugan or anything.

If only it were really that easy always.

This Ain't A Scene, It's My Pretend Birthday

Happy Birthday to MEEEE!
Happy Birthday TO MEEE!
Happy BIRTH - wait.
It's not my birthday.

But that did not stop ArtistMommy from giving me a birthday present! Why? Because she's just cool like that.


Yes! It is Petey's book from his childhood nightmares that I've been wanting to add to my crush collection. She took the (oh so subtle) hint and pwned you all!

As for the story itself he says right up front that it has no point. And he's right. Its kind of like his songs, which IMHO are crybaby wah-wah, o woe is me. But that's the stuff from which songs are made and he's apparently good at it. I hope for Ashlee's sake he's not that whiny in real life though.

I LOVE celebrating my birthday when its not my birthday!! As far as friends go, ArtistMommy is totally boss. She is the cheese to my macaroni. And, I know people are supposed to actually meet before they become friends but . . . I guess normalcy isn't really our style. Its like we've known each other forever and have lived parallel lives. We keep finding quirky little things that are same about us and our past. I don't usually even have FRIENDS, let alone twin soul-type friends so I've decided neither of us is ever moving. Ever. We're going to Lucy and Ethel it right here on this block.

Keep On A-Rockin' Me Baby

The Rock Band 2 setlist came out yesterday and I can hardly contain myself. Last night I dreamed about all the songs to come. How am I going to wait until September??

Alanis Morissette "You Oughta Know". Are you kidding me?? I'd buy it JUST for that song.

Billy Idol "White Wedding". Too bad its not Mony Mony, but it'll do.

Offspring "Come Out & Play". You gotta keep 'em separated!

Red Hot Chili Peppers "Give It Away". I'm already warming up my tongue for that one.

Joan Jett "Bad Reputation". Ahhh. The memories.

Ratt "Round and Round". I know a chick from Sapaloopa that will be over here to play THAT one as soon as she can. :)

System of a Down "Chop Suey". Creepy but fun to sing.

Bikini Kill "Rebel Girl". Yikes, but yay! And Nirvana "Drain You" which it is said Kurt Cobain wrote it about Tobi Vail from Bikini Kill. I don't like Nirvana anyway and don't know if I can sing about chewing your meat for you without gagging.

The list goes on and on. 84 songs, all master recordings, plus 20 available for download later. I'm crossing my fingers hoping for "Welcome to the Jungle".

It's Finger-Lookin' Good!

I was looking at Pootie's finger over the weekend and was pleasantly surprised to find that the snakebite wound has healed over. Her surgeon had wanted to do a skin graft last week or the week before but there was no opening until July 25th and now I think its too late.

This morning I left a message for him to call me so we could discuss it. I got a call back within an hour, which was another pleasant surprise. A woman transferred me to another woman who asked if she could help me first. I told her what was going on and she said, "Oh. You better talk to him about that."

But then she came back on the phone and said, "OK. We'll cancel the surgery. He does want to see her one more time though" and made us an appointment. Wow. That was easy. I was thinking I'd take her down to see him before the surgery so HE could determine if she still needed it or not, but its fine with me.

What do you think?

RAK Hijack

My friend from Oklahoma and her two boys came down for the 4th of July and spent about a week here. We had a lot of fun and our kids were disappointed to see them go because "we did something every day and now we're just going to sit here and do nothing again." Hmmph.

Her kids want to move here because there is always someone to play with "and if you get bored with one kid, just move on to another." :)

One of the things we did was go to a Rangers game Tuesday night. I didn't think any of my kids would be interested in going, but they did (with the exception of Bugaboo because she had to work). As we drove toward Arlington we saw the clouds a-comin' but pressed ahead anyway. As we got to the parking lot it started to POUR and the kids were griping that the game would be canceled.

We pulled into the open lot where an attendant was standing in the downpour. SSB rolled the window down to fork over the $12 and the guy asked if we were with the people ahead of us. We had taken two cars but my friend's car was beside us, not in front of us so there was a moment of confusion. The attendant said the car in front of us had paid for us already but since we had said we weren't with them he said maybe they meant the one behind us.

As we pulled ahead I looked back and the car behind us paid for themselves too so now I'm wondering what that was all about. Was the person ahead of us performing a Random Act of Kindness and it got screwed it up? Did the guy keep an extra $12 that was to go toward their karma? Or was he just testing us to see if we'd say yes, we were with them so let us in?

With my mind running in all these directions I didn't even pay attention to what kind of car was in front of us so I could find them and thank them, if it had it been a RAK, and I feel bad about that.

I Look and I Sound Like the Letter $$$$$$$$$$

Update on the snake bite drama.

Pootie has most of her range of motion back in her finger. It doesn't straighten all the way or bend all the way when making a fist, but the hand surgeon is pleased with what she CAN do even though it is still somewhat numb. He said it probably damaged some of her nerves but he didn't say if she'll regain any sensation or not. However, her wound where the little sucker actually bit her has not healed up on its own enough and she is scheduled for outpatient surgery to have a skin graft on July 25. Luckily, not TOO much tendon is showing and he doesn't have to do the cross-finger flap he thought he might have to do and it will just be a regular skin graft, probably taking the skin from somewhere on her thigh or hip.

In related news we got another statement from the insurance company. Children's Medical Center charged Cigna $189,926.50 just for the ER and inpatient part of her hospital stay (doesn't include doctor charges, ambulance, etc.). $99,999.00 of that was just for the Cro-Fab (anti-venin). If you read my original post about this, you'll know that I took home the information sheet that the ER sent up to the nurses on the floor about it and one of the things it said was that each vial of Cro-Fab costs the hospital $900 and I wondered how much they were going to charge the insurance company. My answer is $3333.33 if she got 30 vials. (I lost track and know she got between 24 and 30 vials but for math purposes we'll say it was 30.) Cigna only allowed for about $58,000, meaning they paid about $1900 a vial. Quite a profit for the hospital.

E-Care charged my credit card $100 the night it happened and I don't know how much they charged the insurance company but another $250 was automatically paid out of our flexible spending account (cafeteria plan). I don't know what they could charge for though because all that place did was call an ambulance. That is ALL they did. The ambulance took her from E-Care to the local hospital 7.7 miles away (even though that hospital wasn't equipped to do anything about her injury) and we just got a bill for $485.00 for that pointless ride. That's almost $63 a mile. It's crazy.

$tay away from $nakes!

In a Wad

Guess what?

I'm wearing panties!!!

But it wasn't a successful endeavor. She baptized two pair in half an hour. Oh well. It was a start.

Guinea Puppy

SSB got a wild hair the other day and took Diego (the guinea pig) out of his cage so Sofine could have her way with him. He was feeling sorry for her after her initial contact with him, which you can read about here.

SSB held Diego and Dupree held Sofine's collar. All was well so he let Diego walk around on the ottoman by himself. Sofine didn't take her eyes off of him. She just stared and stared as he came closer to her. He came over and sniffed her.

And he cuddled up to her.

He pretty much accepted her maternal advances like when she nudged him around like a newborn puppy.

And they were both very happy. But I'm not quite ready to just let them both loose together. Not yet anyway.

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny

For those of you who don't personally know us, let me describe Pootiepie for you before I start this story. She is 13 and just starting to grow out of being a tomboy, at least on the outside. Inside she's pretty much the same. She's either 5'1" or 5'2" and barely weighs 80 pounds. She looks like a newborn colt, all legs. Her legs are so stick skinny they don't look like they should be able to hold her up. The only big thing on her are her feet. She currently wears a women size 8.5 shoe and counting. They look like flippers attached to the skinniest ankles you can imagine and her thighs aren't much bigger.

Swimsuit season is upon us and we, the adults of the family, decided it was time for her to get a new one. She doesn't have a lot that needs to be covered (picture Olive Oyl in a bikini) but after 2 or 3 summers in use, her suit was ready for retirement. Besides. It was a size 7/8. 7/8 like what first and second graders typically wear. It still fit her and she wasn't hanging out of it anywhere but we insisted.

Even though she is a teenager and going into 8th grade I knew that nothing that is supposed to fit her would fit her. I thought size 10/12 should work though. I went shopping one day and took pictures of different suits I thought were cute and sent them to Bugaboo's phone at home for Pootie to see and choose one. She chose a red and white striped two piece but when I went back for it, the ONE that was size 10/12 wasn't there anymore. Shitballs. I left without buying anything and figured she could go back some other time to see if they got more or go to a different store to look.

A couple days later Bugaboo took Pootie shopping. I knew it would be a painful experience because Pootie is very critical of everything that isn't just perfect and gets mean about it and I was glad to not have to go. They came back a couple hours later and Pootie triumphantly held up her purchase. She liked the color, the style and the fit. I was happy. She was happy. Bugaboo was happy to have made it home alive. All seemed well.

Until she tried it on for me. It still seemed quite small. She yelled, "Its a size 10/12 just like you said to get!!" I looked at the hanger. Yep. 10/12. I looked at the tags. Um. Not quite 10/12. It was size 6x. Like what kindergarteners wear.

She had already taken the tags off and that protective lining in the bottoms and argued that her old one just probably shrunk and this one will be fine. She'll NEVER put it in the dryer, she promised. OK. Whatever. As long as I don't have to take her shopping for another one. This one will probably last her until she can drive anyway and she can go by herself.

Mama Mia Let Me Go

When our dog Sofine first came to us a little over a year ago (we found her abandoned at a truck stop in Oklahoma) the vet had us take her for an ultrasound to see if she was pregnant. She had signs of being pregnant or recently delivering pups and she wanted to put her on an antibiotic for a tick bite disease she also had. The antibiotic would deform the puppies (so she said) if she was currently pregnant so we had to make sure.

She was NOT pregnant and so she got the antibiotic, but the conclusion was that she must have very recently had some puppies. She had very strong maternal instincts and would lick Bunny's little head for as long as we would let her. Maybe her previous owner had taken her babies away and so she ran away to find them. That's sad, but a possible scenario. I guess only a pet psychic would know.

Well. I'm about to call one in because she had gone crazy recently. Pootie finally got her wish for a guinea pig for her birthday. (The reviled gerbil still has not died but she got one anyway with birthday money.) And Sofine had gone ape $#!t for this new addition to our family. At first I wasn't sure if she wanted to eat him or nurse him, but now I think its nurse him. For one, thing he (named Diego) is tri-colored like she is, black, brown and white and he is about the size of a puppy. My strongest theory is that she thinks he really and truly is one of her long-lost babies because she will not leave his side. She just sits outside the cage staring and staring at him.

I don't want to take him out and put them together to see what happens though. I already feel sorry for the poor little guy being stared at all the time. It must be a little daunting. But Pootie and Bugaboo thought they'd try it one night with each of them holding one animal to assure no major carnage. I'm not sure who fell down on their job but Sofine licked Diego's butt and then there was much screaming and carrying on and Diego was shut back up in his cage.

Once in a while Sofine will bark while sitting outside the cage, but only one little woof. My heart kind of breaks for her and I want to put them together for her sake. Even if she figures out he's not a puppy she still may take it as a substitute and love him like her own. I just don't know how HE would take to that. And I'd hate to be wrong and find out she's been picturing him as a big porkchop or something like in cartoons.

Anyone have any suggestions? Please comment and let me know what you think.

Scabba Dabba Doo

Ugh. The following is not for the faint of heart.

Pootie casually announced that her snakebite scab came off today. We've had follow-up visits with the plastic surgeon every two weeks since she got bit and every time he just says, "We may have to do a skin graft. Lets wait to see what under that black scab."

You, the blogging community, get a first look, even before he does because she deosn't go back to him until July 1st.



Yeah. I'm thinking a skin graft is in her future. That's quite a chunk.

Sprechen Sie DOH!

SSB left for a business trip to Germany on Sunday. It was kind of a last minute thing that he didn't find out about until Thursday.

He has the worst luck when he travels, but this trip takes the strudel.

I thought it was bad enough that he had to leave on Father's Day but apparently the powers that be disagreed. That was NOT enough.

As everyone was boarding the flight out of DFW, the guy in front of him was strapping in a car seat for his kid and found a big, long screwdriver down in the plane seat. Even though the captain said they knew one had been unaccounted for earlier, everyone had to be evacuated while they searched the plane for more in case it was a stashed terrorist weapon. I think if there were any terrorists they'd probably just stick their contraband screwdrivers back in their pockets then bring them back on board again. But maybe terrorists are dumb like that and would just leave them to be found. I don't know.

So his flight was late getting to London but he still made his connection on time. Or would have if it had not been canceled due to the fact that George Bush was finishing his European trip and Air Force One was at Heathrow. Apparently when Air Force One is there they restrict the number of other flights in and out and SSB's flight to Munich was one that got deep sixed. Why doesn't Air Force One use a military airfield? Do our commercial airports restrict the number of flights when a foreign head of state is over here? More things I don't know.

All of the other flights to Munich ran that day but not SSB's and they couldn't get him on the next one. Or the next one. But he did get on the last one. Six hours later than he should have been. This got him in to Munich after 11 p.m. their time on Monday night. As he got off the plane and walked through the airport he heard his name being called overhead. He went to where they paged him to and was told they lost his bags. Not just all of his clothes, his great big equipment case that he had to bring there which held his REASON to be there in the first place. Plus it had his phone charger and laptop power supply cords in it. He carried on THREE laptops but couldn't fit all the accessories into the bag. Don't ask me why he needed three laptops or what the equipment was that was in the case or even what his job is. These are still more things I don't know.

He filled out the paperwork for his bags then headed to the car rental booth because Munich isn't even where he was going. He had to drive an hour south to a little town close to the Austrian border. This story wouldn't be complete though if the obvious hadn't happened. They gave away his car because he wasn't there when he said he'd be and they, of course, had no more so he went from place to place until he found one. Finally.

I think I should point out that it was about 1 a.m. Tuesday by this time and he had been up since about 9 a.m. SUNDAY morning. Granted, he lost 7 hours flying over the ocean, but that is still 33 hours without sleep. Oh, wait. He did sleep an hour on the plane. My bad. I don't think anyone should drive a vehicle when they've been up for 33 hours. ESPECIALLY ON THE AUTOBAHN. I was a nervous wreck sitting here thinking about him out there. While he was still flying, I sent him a text that maybe he should just stay at a hotel near the airport for the night and drive the next morning. And I checked the train schedules but the last one left at 11 and there wasn't another until 4 the next morning. I never got to argue my point with him though because I didn't get to talk to him until he was already on the road. Driving. On the autobahn. On no sleep. Talking on the phone.

To his credit he didn't call me, I called him and he just answered. I called because I didn't know the extent of his woes yet and had figured out that he should already be in Garmisch long ago. When he answered I said, "Yay! You're not dead!" He said he almost was though. Huh? SSB has many wonderful qualities and talents, but his sense of direction is not one of them. I used to think he was just kidding or faking it for some reason, but no. He is just really, really bad at going the right way. It could cost us the Amazing Race if we ever get on it. He lived in Tulsa for 20 years and still went the wrong way to places he had been to dozens of times (if not more). Anyway. He was on the autobahn and then thought he was going the wrong way so he turned around. Then he thought, no he HAD been going the right way and was now going the wrong way. He stopped and asked someone and got on the autobahn going the wrong direction. Not the wrong direction like north instead of south. Against the flow of traffic wrong direction. Think "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" at 120 miles an hour in the middle of the night. Oh, and there are no streetlights on the autobahn even in town. I don't know why.

Is anyone tired of this story yet? If you are, go on to the next blog cuz there's more.

While on the phone with him I was trying to figure out where he was on Google maps because he still wasn't sure he was going the right direction. There are lots of signs and he said you'd think it would be helpful, but there were too many to read and cars were going too fast and there were no lights. So I was trying to find out where he was on my map when he suddenly yells a bad word and throws the phone down. I'm panicked but don't hear any sounds of squealing tires or crashing metal, just a lot of bumps and thuds. After what seemed like an eternity he picked the phone back up. The exit for the road he had to take had suddenly come upon him on the right and he was way over in the left lane. He changed lanes and pulled over to the right, after the exit, then just went over the curb to go back.

He finally got to Garmisch at about 3 a.m. The place he is at is a "U.S. Department of Defense-owned luxury hotel in the Bavarian Alps." This means it is like a military base in that it has a guarded gate. And he was not on The List to get in. And he had to be up in 4 hours for the first meeting. So he opted to sleep in his car. But in an unexpected stroke of luck, the guard made another call and got him in. He said SSB still wasn't on the list but That Guy signed for him. SSB didn't know who That Guy was but didn't care at that point. He got a room and intended to get 4 hours of sweet, sweet slumber but as it turns out his car would have been the better choice. A previous occupant had been sucking on the cancer sticks triggering an asthma attack in my poor, weary traveler and his inhaler was lost somewhere between London and Munich. He gave up trying to sleep at about 5:30.

Things did get better the next day. He got his bags and some sleep and it is very, very pretty there. And clean. But he kinda hates it cuz it makes him want to quit everything and just live there in a picture perfect world and he can't. Yet.

A Little Bit Drrty

I got an email from ESPN today that has me very excited and stuck to my computer all day.

Its Fantasy Football time!! Woot!

I am going to get SOLID commitments from everyone this year in advance. Last year all the kids wanted to be involved but when every weekend it was ME who was managing their teams. Well, no more. This year I don't care if someone hasn't checked if any of their players are injured or have a bye that week. Too bad for them and better for me!

ArtistMommy's little girl can't pronounce my name and although she is getting better at it every day, she used to call me "Dirty". She'd put a lot of R into it so it would sound like Drrrrrrty. So now my team name is the Drrty Coyotes. Fierce!!

I can't wait until our draft even though it was a little long last year and the kids got bored and restless. I'm going to have to come up with fun things for them to do when its not their turn to pick. I am thinking of having everyone choose their logo early this year so we can make a shirt and wear it that night. Its going to be so fun!!

FD 2006

Last night ArtistMommy was looking at a collage Bugaboo did two years ago for Fathers Day so I decided to blog it since it is that time of year again.

Each kid made a list of their favorite things about SSB and then Bugaboo got pictures off the internet to represent them and glued it all together with the title "Why I'm Glad You're My Dad". Here are their lists:

Bugaboo:
You walk around the house like a model. (He does. He's always practicing for the catwalk.)
You know why tires don't pop - or at least from heat.
You let me watch Guns N Roses all night on my birthday.
You always buy me silly boxers.
You play Faith No More really loud in the car.
You always stop at 7 Eleven.
You try to get me to go running even though I won't go.
You say stuff like "edumacated".
You make fun of us.
You took me and my friends to the My Chemical Romance concert and actually had a good time.
You wear weird Sketcher shoes.

Taz:
I look up to you.
You play so many games with us.
You're so funny.
The family wouldn't be complete without you.
You're there for us all.

PootiePie:
You're very smart.
You're awesome with computers and technology.
You have a great smile and your teeth are nice and shiny and clean. (He really does have a great smile. A thundering smile.)
You love us and keep us safe.
You're awesome at chess.
You play with us a lot.
You makes us a lot of money.
You're a very cool dad.

Snickety:
You are so nice.
You spend money on us.
You share with me.
You always help me.
Your smile is awesome.
Your smile gets better and better every day. (He had Invisalign braces at the time to move one tooth.)
When I'm gone I think about you.

BeeMan:
You play Mechassault 2 with me.
You have big muscles.
You have pretty hair. (I have to agree. Pretty hair and a great smile. I'm so jealous, but if I can't have it, at least I'm married to it!)
You taked me to Best Buy to get a computer game.
You make me laugh.

Bunny wasn't born yet, but I made one for her.
You're giving me the perfect name. (I let him name her and wasn't even told what it would be until the day after she was born. I don't think he really knew until then either.)
You're buying me lots of great stuff for when I arrive.
You give me and Mommy lots of room in bed. I drive her crazy at night!
I love listening to your voice. I makes me feel all snuggy.
You make Mommy so happy and take such good care of her and that makes me happy and cared for too.

He's the best dad and they did a great job of letting him know that. I'm always trying to figure out new things to do for him every year, but I don't think we'll top that one any time soon.

Right-Handed Destruction

Bunny knows how to use scissors!!!!



Unfortunately she debuted her talent on one of my very favorite outfits ever!! It is a hand-me-down from ArtistMommy's girls and its the cutest thing ever. I was upset the other day when she got chocolate Rice Dream all over it and I was out of Zout. I used some all-purpose Resolve but it didn't quite do the trick. I had it set aside this morning to soak it in Oxiclean but she found it and started to dress herself in it. Granted, she had both of her legs stuffed down the neck hole while the actual bottoms were cast aside, but she was proud and so was I.

I will keep this outfit secured in a Space Bag and tucked into my hope chest as memorabilia so it will live on, but I wanted her to wear it more. Like, all summer.

(OMG. This post totally seems whored-out with all the product names thrown in there, doesn't it?)

Bandicoot

About a month ago I had the Novasure endometrial ablation done and I went for a follow up visit with my OB/GYN the other day. Unbeknownst to me there were stitches IN THERE that she took out during the visit. *Shudder* I didn't really feel anything but driving home after had me squirming in my seat the whole way.

It was Pootie's birthday and Bugaboo was going to get her a pair of shoes. I had picked them up earlier that day but forgot to mention it to Bugaboo so I called her to catch her before she went to get them. She answered the phone all out of breath and said, "We just got here. I'll call you right back." I started to ask "Who got where?" since she was grounded but she just repeated that she'd call me back and hung up.

Now I squirmed even more.

And waited. And waited and waited.

Finally she called back and said, "We're on Parkview." What does that mean? I said, "WHO is?"

B: "Me and the other girl."

Me: "What other girl? What are you talking about?"

B: "The girl that hit me!"

Me: "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? I called about SHOES!"

B: "Oh. Well. I was on my home after school and someone in front of me stopped really fast and so I stopped really fast and the girl behind me didn't."

OMG. She has had her license for less than 4 months. The day she got her permit last summer, as we were going home from getting it, she was hit by a car also. Sideswiped by a guy coming out of a parking lot 2 lanes over. that first one definitely wasn't her fault and technically getting rear-ended is always the other person's fault, but there are things a more experienced driver may have done to avoid both situations. I can't bear the thought of teaching 5 more kids to drive and worrying every time they get behind the wheel.