A Good Mom Day

Popcorn was supposed to have a field trip to the zoo today. I took the day off and everything.

Because I'm a great mom.

Then, they canceled it way back on Tuesday because there was a chance of severe weather. I offered to work today, so we could have some extra cash for summer fun.

Because I'm a great mom.

However, they didn't need me.

Bookworm has had achievement tests all week, and Popcorn is always ready for a break from life. So, I decided to have a hooky day with my kids.

Because I'm a great mom.


We started the day at 7am. Because, clearly every child should be out of bed by 7am at the very latest on hooky days. Then, Popcorn said "When are we ever going to have cinnamon rolls again?" Well, I did not have my standard canned biscuits that I use to whip up an easy batch of cinnamon rolls, but I did have crescent rolls! So, I decided to whip up some cinnamon rolls out of crescent rolls.

Because I'm a great mom.


I left the rolls in rectangles, then spread them with butter. After the butter, I sprinkled brown sugar and cinnamon on them, and then sprinkled half of them with golden raisins. Bookworm loves raisins, Popcorn does not... I then rolled the rectangles and sliced them into four pieces and placed them in a 9x11 pan, which I then realized was too big....



However, today is a hooky day, and hooky days DO NOT have unnecessary dishes. Therefore, I left them as is, and baked them at 350 for about 15 minutes...

Next, I topped them with a powdered sugar & milk glaze. I used about a cup of powdered sugar and a couple tablespoons of skim milk...

And, OILA!

I am really a great mom.



Post Note: Rules for hooky day (which I have previously referred to as mental health days, but today decided hooky sounded way more fun and impulsive, so the name has officially changed, thankyouverymuch) are as follows:

1. No fighting with your sister. Any fighting with your sister will result in immediate loading in the car and delivery to school. So far, this rule has never been broken, so I haven't had to take such drastic measures.

2. Leave your mom in peace. Yes, she's GREAT MOM to give you a hooky day, but it's gonna be her hooky day too, so let the woman be. Amen.

Another interesting note for you, my loyal readers. My boss was surprised yesterday when I said I may keep my kids home with me today. She figured I was a perfect attendance sort of gal.

Ummm.

No.

When I was in college I missed the maximum allowed days for my classes. Of course, once I started nursing school I never missed. Nursing school consumes your life. However, before I entered nursing school, I felt obligated to miss my maximum absences for any classes I considered frivolous even though they were required for my major...For example, if I had a 3 credit hour music appreciation class, taught by a famous composer, who also happened to have formerly played in a gospel band with my brother in law, and said class theoretically occurred at 8am, and I was allowed 3 absences for every credit hour, I would miss 9 classes. After all, I had 9 excused absences and truly, why waste them?

And, let's say that you could have 3 tardies for every credit hour, and let's consider with our purely theoretical aforementioned music appreciation class...I would arrive late 9 times. Now, one must be careful because, theoretically speaking, this class may be entered from the front. This may result in you trying to quietly slink into class 10 minutes late and having to slide into a desk on the front row to the left side of the teacher. This could, theoretically of course, become rather uncomfortable for you. After all, even if you're making an "A" in the class, you don't want to draw attention to myself, I mean yourself, and make the teacher think that you feel this class is irrelevant to your nursing major (theoretically.)

Also, let's say, that BOTH of your older sisters had taken this particular music appreciation class, under this very man. A theoretical conversation may go something like this...

Sister 1: Isn't Dr. H GREAT?

Me, I mean, YOU: Uh. Yeah.

Sister 2: Has he realized you're our sister?

Me/You: Uh. I'm not sure.

Sister 1: Have you told him you're our sister?

Me/You: Uh.....No. I really haven't had a chance to talk to him. And, he seems pretty busy. I really hate to bother him....(read here: I really don't want to point out that I am related to either of you, because I'm pretty sure he knows it, and I'm pretty sure he's wondering what the heck went wrong with this youngest one...But, he probably figures there's one in every family, and you just never know.)

And, this theoretical conversation could be resurrected again MULTIPLE times, with slight variations through out the semester. By your parents. By your brother-in-law, who used to be in a gospel band with him, and by your sisters. Over and over...

Because, if you are in this purely theoretical situation, and you resemble your sisters in a purely theoretical way, I'm pretty sure he might accidentally link the likeness and the last name and realize you are related...
And, no I am not in this picture. I wasn't there for this particular photo shoot between my mom and sisters. Sad, huh?

Don't feel too bad. I think I was here....





Probably playing hooky.

What has happened

to this world? I just went an entire week without posting. An entire week people.

What's more, this is the first time I've turned on my computer since last Thursday.

Shocking, I know.

So, here I sit racking my brain to share all of the wonders of my world, but my brain is tired, and Popcorn is watching "Spirit, Stallion of the Cimarron" while Bookworm is at softball, so I keep getting distracted...And the only things I can think to tell you are things you don't want to know.

Like, one of my coworkers happens to work recovery at another hospital. She took care of a man last week who rapped a metal ring around all of his parts and had to have surgery to cut it off.

The ring, not his parts.

Unfortunately, after driving to a free clinic which promptly said that was not a free clinic sort of deal, he had stopped and grabbed a steak sandwich and onion rings....I guess onion rings help with the inflammation.

Anyhoo, by the time he got into surgery his dangly parts were bigger than grapefruits, and they were unsure if his dumbstick would ever function properly again. Seriously, how does one get a metal ring around their parts? Why would they do it? What pleasure is there in that?

Please. I beg you not to answer that question. It is truly rhetorical.

Thank you.

Oh, WAIT! I forgot to mention that he was in such pain when he got to the ER that the nurse gave him pain medicine, then he couldn't sign his consent legally, so they had to call his son and get phone consent!

Wow! I can't even imagine how that conversation went. "Mr. So-and-so, I'm calling regarding your father. He needs emergency surgery to get a metal ring off of his you-know-whats because he's a complete wack job!"

At least, that's how I would have approached it...Y'know, since I'm such a fan of anatomically correct references to body parts and all that.

See what I mean by the only things I can think to tell about, you REALLY don't want to know.

Because, this conversation lead to all sorts of weird revelations about things we've seen, the rest of which I will spare you...

Well, now I'm off to read all of your wonderful blogs, fellow bloggers, but please do not feel offended if I fail to comment. Again, my brain is tired. And I'm in a rush. My in-laws are coming to stay tonight, and I need to clean my floors.

However, considering there's a mouse in my kitchen, somewhere, eluding my mouse traps, I'm not sure how relevant clean floors are.

But, alas Dancing With the Stars will be on soon, so I better get moving so I can watch it while I clean.

Oh, and of course though I will fail to comment on your lovely blogs, please feel obligated to comment on mine. I need to know that you are still aware of my existence after failing to post for so long. Thank you for your cooperation.

Anatomically Correct

One thing about having a mom for a nurse: My kids get way more information than they bargained for at times. Discussions on anatomy, digestive processes, and yes, even reproduction are met with very little hesitation around these parts.

My girls have always loved to play with horses. They love those hard rubber horses that you get at your local farm store like Atwoods or Tractor Supply. We had every horse they sold in those places, then we moved on to their mountain lions, deer, bears, whatever, because the loved these little toys so much. The brand is Schleich, and their toys are really neat. I myself have fantasized about their fantasy kingdom toys.

When we still lived in Texas my kids would go stay with their grandparents for 7 days straight. They would spend a few days with my in-laws and a few days with my parents, then 2 of those seven days was spent driving.

At one time, when my girls were three and four, they were out "helping" my dad saddle the horses. At this time my dad had not only Appy, he had a retired carousel horse named Fancy. Fancy was quite the pony. She would only go if led. Apparently, after years on that carousel, toting little ones on her back, reining was a completely foreign concept. She would not go anywhere without a lead rope. Unless of course, somebody failed to hold on to the lead rope, in which case she would take off as fast as her little legs would carry her...Typical pony. You can read about my experiences growing up with a pony at my sister Dawn's blog. Click here, here, and here.

But, back to my kids the big helpers. I think my nephews were out their too. Since I was 400 miles away at the time that this story occurred, some of the details may be slightly incorrect. But only slightly, mind you...

The kids were having one of those great kid discussions. Apparently they were discussing the relationship between the two horses. The discussion was whether Appy was Fancy's mother. Popcorn, who was three at the time was adamant that he was not her mother. He was her father, because she KNEW he was a boy. The disagreement went on for a while.

Until Popcorn walked up to Appy, ducked down, took a good gander at his belly, stood up and announced "He is TOO the daddy...He has boy parts!"

Well.

My dad was pretty stunned.

And he didn't say a word.

Of course, he told my mom about the exchange later on, and expressed his surprise that such a small city kid knew the anatomy of a horse. My mom then related the story to me. (You can see how some of my details may be skewed here. But very few. I'm fabulous at discerning/adding facts to stories as they are shared with me) I laughed and explained about their horses.

You see, the Schleich horses are anatomically correct. My girls were having the babies "nurse" (another sign your mom is a nurse. Bookworm used to nurse her baby dolls while I was literally nursing her sister) the stud horses. Also, they thought that they had poop on them near their tail. You know I couldn't leave those misconceptions alone. I had explained the anatomy to them, although rather vaguely in terms of "girl parts and boy parts."

Of course, by now they actually know the correct word for those parts.

Wonder what my dad would do if she looked at one of his bulls and said "testicles?"

"THE WORST LAND RUN DAY EVER!"

This picture is completely unrelated to this post. However, Popcorn wore it to go shopping the other day, and I just thought it gave you an interesting glimpse into her personality. Yes, I let her wear pretty much whatever she wants.

There is never any drama in my house. NEVER. And I resent any implications that there may be a tendency towards drama around this place.

Except for the teeny fact that there is.

Take the Land Run Day. The excitement builds for weeks.Wait, let's rewind. For any of you who do not know about the Sooner State, we had a land run. People lined up with their covered wagons and earthly possessions and took off to stake their claim in a new territory. Unfortunately, the territory had already been forced on the Native Americans. Remember the Trail of Tears? Our government forced the Indians to journey by foot to Oklahoma where they could have their own land to keep forever.

Until of course we decided to be "Indian Givers" and steal it back in the form of a land run. Any white man who had a fast horse could go to the land office, get their flag and fill out some paper work. Then, when the gun went off on the designated day, (I'm too lazy to look up any real facts here, so this is all pure recollection from Oklahoma History and the movie Far and Away with Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman....... So I'm sure every detail of this is correct) they could take off in a race for their parcel of land.

Unless, of course, they encountered a Sooner. This was a person who sneaked into the territory before the official start, and staked their claim before it was strictly legal...

So, now that we've completed our history lesson for today, sketchy as it may be, we'll get on with my tale. The girls were anxious about their school's celebration. They get to have a covered wagon contest. There are costume contests, and they usually have a chuck wagon and a general store to buy snacks and treats at. They have people come do rope tricks, and speakers come tell the history of the land run, along with showing brief films about true events that occurred....in place of my sketchy facts...

You know they both wanted new costumes. Bookworm thought she might want to be a squaw this year. After their enlightenment last year (click here) regarding Indians in Oklahoma, she decided she preferred that ancestry...Which we do not have. No, she didn't want me to make her a dress out of brown fabric where I would make a simple tunic and make some fringe and whatnot. Nope. She wanted to go to The Cherokee Trading Post and buy an authentic squaw dress... Ummm, not happening folks, unless she's going to wear it to church, for Halloween the next three years and so on. Those suckers run around $100, and I just couldn't see buying that for one day of fun. But, they are absolutely beautiful. And they're made of deer hide, by authentic Native American artisans. Seriously, they are gorgeous, and soft, and I secretly want one for myself. Just because I do.

Moving on.

Popcorn wanted to wear her sisters costume from the year before. She quickly understood that the only way they would get new "old time" dresses was if I made it. And, let's just say my sewing is sketchy at best. Yes, I can sew. Curtains are a no brainer. I can follow a pattern, but it takes me forever, and I have tons of problems, because I never sew. I prefer to nag my mom into doing it for me, or asking my sister to loan me her girls old costumes. My life as a lazy mooch is just easier that way....Anyway, Bookworm's old dress was made by my mother, and it is beautiful...See?


Well, Bookworm decided she would settle for a simple long skirt, with a plain t-shirt to go with it. After all, most of the fourth graders wouldn't be dressing up. So, on Wednesday we went to Walmart to look at their fabric. Because, no I have no fabric. I had one yard of pink polyester gingham print that I think I bought off of the clearance remnants one time for Valentine's Day boxes. Oh, and let's not forget all of my jean scraps for patching their knees...By the way, I'm an EXPERT patcher. Go here to learn the ins and outs of the perfect pair of patched jeans....

Okay, this is the sum total of my sewing supplies. Yes, they are in a plastic sack. No, my kids did not even remember I owned a sewing machine..

So, we went to the store and bought some fabric. I simply stitched the selvedge edges together, measured it to length, then put in an elastic band and hemmed it with some pretty ribbon. One problem here. I measured to her waist. Duh, nobody wears anything on their waist. Consequently, her dress drug the ground and was about 3 inches too long. But, not judging by this picture, of course, it came out pretty cute.

Fast forward to the big day. We got up early to pack lunches. Popcorn stated she was wearing her moccasins. Bookworm had planned on wearing her black boots with fringe, that look a lot like squaw boots. Apparently after I left, Bookworm wanted to wear moccasins too.

Of course, her sister was in fact wearing her moccasins, as Popcorn's are now too small, and since the world is all about her, she just put on her sister's and never said a word. Well, Bookworm threw a fit of epic proportions. She was livid. Her dad, being the big diplomat that he is told her to "get over it" and made her wear her boots.

Never mind that Popcorn was wearing shoes that didn't' even belong to her. That was irrelevant. Nope. Bookworm had to wear a different pair of shoes than she wanted because her sister beat her to the punch. Wow. Glad I wasn't here for that. It escalated into a meltdown that included the screech "THIS IS THE WORST LAND RUN DAY EVER!!!"

And then they missed the bus.

So Studmuffin was late for work.

And then it rained all day.

So all of the events had to be moved inside.

So, indeed it was a disappointing day.

But. Bookworm said it turned out okay, and everyone liked her costume.

The End.

Finally.

Smart Kids

Today after I picked the girls up from school, we came home, changed out of their Land Run Day clothes, and headed to town. Of course we will have a Land Run Day post coming soon.

We were all pretty excited. They had not been shopping, except for Easter dresses since last fall. We were even planning a big splurge and eating at Chik Fil A for supper...

On the way, they were counting their own money and discussing what they were going to buy, where they were going to buy it, and so on. Mind you, neither of them seemed to have the faintest of idea of what they wanted or needed. They just each had a whopping eight bucks, and that was about to burst into a cataclysmic explosion, it was so hot...

Well, you all know, that I'm the Queen of Cheap. Sometimes I hate myself for that. However, it also irritates me when my kids buy something just to buy something because they have saved up a buck or two. So, being the big fat party pooper mommy that I am, I said, "Hey squirrels! You know, you can use your money however you want, but you can also be smart and save some too!"

There. I gave them leeway, but I packed a small overnight bag of guilt trip to give them pause about their purchases...

Popcorn responded with nary a second's hesitation, "Mom. We're both really smart. But we still want to spend our money today."

I laughed so hard I had tears streaming down my face.

Next conversation: We were walking through Target. It was my turn to buy the coffee for work. One of our generous docs got us a Bosch single cup brewer. Very generous of him, eh? Well, this means that we have to buy the coffee for the special coffee maker. We can only find this coffee at Target in our area. Piddle. I never thought I'd actually break down and buy coffee to drink at a hospital where I'm virtually surrounded by free coffee.

We were cutting through the greeting card aisle on our way to the toy area after making the coffee grab. The girls wanted to stop and listen to the sound cards....

By the way, I bought a card for my mommy, because miracle of miracles I haven't forgotten her birthday yet, but give me time...I will. I am a terrible daughter. Terrible. However, I found the perfect card for her. I was laughing so hard, I can't wait to share it with you. After her birthday, of course...

So, Bookworm picks up a sound card with a cute squirrel on the front, and it says something along the lines of Sparky the Squirrel will give his left nut to wish you a happy birthday...

Then, when you open it, it starts in with the squirrel scolding you that he isn't giving up his left nut, he's only got two of 'em and you must be out of your mind, yada yada, blah blah blah... Bookworm positively cackled. I thought, "Wow! I can't believe she understands that!"

Guess what?

She didn't get it.

But her sister did.

Completely.

Yep, my fourth grader was totally clueless. And my second grader was totally not....

Dang.

Foot & Mouth Disease

Or, perhaps it's podia-dentitis...

Or is it Hoof & Mouth?

Well, whatever you want to call it, I suffer from it.

Take my daughters softball game, for instance.

The very softball game that we went to tonight, that I did NOT take any pictures of. Nope. Not one single picture of my gal running over home plate, not once but TWICE...I did not bring my camera with me, because, clearly I only carry a camera for blogs, and I never planned to get an idea for a blog at her game...

But then IT happened. I made a fool of myself.

I know, you are all in utter bewilderment how such a thing could happen. Well, let me assure you that it is all Studmuffin's fault.

You see, last night, Bookworm had a softball game. At this game while she was up to bat, the umpire got screwed up on her count.

Majorly screwed up...

As in, when she had 2 balls, then got a strike, he called her out.

So, Studmuffin, the super shy guy that he is, went over to the scorekeeper, who happened to be sitting behind the ump, and asked, "Hey, what was the count when my daughter was up to bat?" In a very audible voice if you get my meaning...

Then, the ump was not calling what the pitches were, so we had no idea if it was a ball or a strike...

So, again, Studmuffin said in a very subdued and quiet voice, "WHAT'S THE COUNT???"

The ump's response? He started looking in our direction after each pitch, and calling the pitch in a loud voice, complete with hand signal. Good news, just so we could know what was goin' on and all...

So. On to my footinmouthitis.

My new BFF Amanda, who I met for the first time in my life last night, who has a daughter on Bookworm's softball team and I were talking.

Because that is why we will be BFFs. Because she talks.

A lot.

And she laughs....Correction. She cackles. Frequently. And loudly.

Be still my beating heart we are soul mates.

And she's a nurse.

And, get this, she is fair complected.

In short, she is me...

Except shorter with naturally red hair...

Anyhoo, returning to my podiadental disease, we were recounting the tale of my shy husband calling the ump on his stuff at last nights game, and I decided to mock him at tonight's game..."WHAT'S THE COUNT?" I said in an unfortunately exuberant voice.

When our batter was up.

The whole world went quiet. Everything went into slow motion, the ump turned and looked dead in my eye, and I realized how loud I was being with my new loudmouth, laughing BFF...

"OhmygoshI'msosorryIwasn'ttalkingtoyou...." I started to ramble out an apology.

Mortification...

(Okay, that word by itself does not express my expression of it. In my mind I'm typing/singing it to the tune of Cinderella when the blue birds are waking her up...You know in their little bird tweets, you know they are saying "Cinderella! Cinderella, wake up!" That's how mortification is meant here. Got the idea? Good, because I'd hate to beat this topic to death.)

So, the problem with my chronic motor mouth is that it has lead to lots of apologies. I've gotten really good at it. The second the game was over, I was tracking that umpire down, so I could apologize, and explain in a very long, and rambling way, that in no way shape or form was I unhappy with his calling in today's game, he did a fantabulous job, but I was mocking my husband's behavior at a different game, and that is why you shouldn't mock people, but it's really his fault, because he used to pretend to be shy, but now he obviously isn't, and he was so nice he even asked before he kissed me the first time, but I've always struggled with impulsiveness, and in fact I grabbed his head and yanked it down for a real kiss on our first date, even though I wasn't that kind of girl, but what I'm really trying to say here is that I'm totally sorry that I yelled at him even though I wasn't yelling at him.

And he got a kind of glazed look in his eyes.

And then he said, "Oh. That's okay. I never even heard you say anything."

And then I said, "Oh. Well, that's great. Have a nice evening!"

And I skipped back to my family, relieved to have gotten that off of my chest.

Bend...and SNAP!

I had an epiphany on the differences between men and women...

I know. You are already sitting at your computer, in utter fascination, awaiting this ground breaking news....



Well, hold on to your laptops ladies because this one is a shocker.



Men do not hold their stomach in.

Shocking, I know.

How did I learn this mind boggling fact?

Well, it all started with me mentioning holding my stomach in. Because, you know I hold it in.

All the time.

Belly button in, abdominals lifted up and in toward the rib cage...

As in, if I'm awake, and standing upright in any way shape or form, my tummy is being sucked in. Often even when I'm sitting. It all started my freshman year of high school when my friend Jennifer said, "You know, if you suck your stomach in all the time, you will have a flat stomach."

Oh, Gentle Reader, that statement was life changing. Hold my stomach in? That's all I gotta do to have a flat stomach? I am totally there.

So, 20 years later, I'm still holding that stomach in.

Unfortunately, it's not as flat as it once was.

*sigh*

I really just lack the discipline to get it that flat again. Well, that and my love for late night salsa binges is probably not helping either.

BUT!!! This blog is about how I discovered that men don't hold their guts in.

Studmuffin was surprised to learn I hold my stomach in. "Even in front of me?"

"ESPECIALLY in front of you!" I exclaimed. "There is no way I'm even going to strut my stuff without my gut held in and my shoulders back. No way."

"Huh! I never even thought of that."

"Wait a minute. You mean, when we are doing our evening getting ready for bed, teeth brushing thing.... the time of night when you are eyeballing and eyebrow waggling, insinuating and ogling, you are just standing there, flatulent and letting it all hang out?"

"Of course!"

And that's when it hit me. Men are totally different than women. I would never, repeat NEVER walk by him fully clothed with my stomach pooching out, much less right before bedtime!

It brings to mind the scene in Legally Blonde where she demonstrates the "Bend....and Snap." You accidentally drop something. Bend at the waste (no back saving crouching here, ladies) to retrieve your dropped item, then SNAP to an upright stance with your back arched and shoulders back, dropped item held strategically held to your, well, your tah-tah's for lack of a better word.

Okay, there is a better word, but don't you like the word tah-tah's? Kind of like ta-dah!! There they are!

Oh, phooey. I'm just not sure you get the full image. I decided to just look it up on YouTube and post it for your viewing pleasure.




So. Skip the offer of a cold beverage and neck massage. Get that 83% return on an invitation to dinner!

Bend....and snap!

Nobody Better Lay a Finger on My Baby Ruth

I have a pregnancy psychosis story for you today...

Aren't you just so thrilled you could puke?

Well, maybe not. But when I was pregnant, that's what I did.

Puke.

Puke.

Puke.

The official diagnosis is hyperemises gravidum. It basically means that you are pregnant, and yes you will puke, but take that typical little morning sickness nuisance and magnify it ten thousand times.

And, no, this is not a dramatic statement from a dramatic person...

I threw up around the clock. I would even wake up in the middle of the night sick. Pitiful. I know.

I continued to work through the entire pregnancy. Hospitalized for a few days to get some fluids pumped in me? No problem! I returned to work two days after being released...After all, I needed to save up my PTO for when the baby actually came!

So. I would puke at work of course. Seriously, I'd be taking care of a patient, get that watery mouth feeling, say excuse me, then clutching my stethoscope sprint down the hall to the bathroom...Unless of course i was unable to make it that far, in which case I would say, "Excuse me," step into the PATIENT'S bathroom and hurl... Don't you wish you could have been my patient in those days?

By the way, I didn't mention that there were 3 other ladies pregnant at the same time on the cardiac floor that I was working, and we all worked day shift. This meant that the odds were at least 2 pregnant ladies were at work on any given day. Also, please note that the fact that I spent a lot of time puking was not a secret. I worked in a hospital with about 200 beds, so everyone knew everyone, and everyone knew that our telemetry and stepdown department had a plethora of pregnant ladies....

Now, to get on with my story.

I drank fountain Dr. Pepper when I was pregnant. As a matter of fact, I had not had caffeine in four years until I was pregnant, but I craved DP, and the fountain version soothed my stomach, so I had at least one a day...

I had been working on my charting at the nurse's station. Picture my lab coat, charts, pencil, stethoscope, drink and a snack size Baby Ruth sitting in front of the computer I was working on. A patient called for assistance, so I went to see what they needed.

As I was returning to the desk, I heard my friend and also pregnant coworker say, "Dr. K, where did you get that Baby Ruth?"

"It was just sitting here."

"I think it was Andrea's..."

Okay, at this point I'm rounding the corner, and the sight that met my eyes sent me into a psychotic break of epic proportions...

Me: Are you EATING my Baby Ruth?

Dr. K, looking slightly confused, and maybe a trifle concerned: I didn't' know it was yours! It was just sitting here...

A brief background on Dr. K. He was in his internship, which means he is in his first year out of medical school... Which also means that he better be dang nice to the nurses because most of us have more real life clinical experience than him, so odds are when things start to go south, they will know more than him about how to act quickly. In addition to this you need to realize that he was famous for stealing our chairs. The second somebody got up to do whatever, he immediately plopped his carcass in their chair...

Remember we had FOUR pregnant women? This did not please us. We were cranky. We were hormonal. Our feet were swollen, and we were still working 12 hour shifts in addition to lifting patients around all day, and moving beds, and cleaning up adult body fluids...We felt we deserved a chair when we got a chance to sit down and do charting.

Return to conversation:

Me: Do you see my stethoscope? Did you notice the lab coat on the back of the chair? My charts? My DOCTOR PEPPER! How could you not think the Baby Ruth might be "somebody's" Baby Ruth? What is wrong with you?! Oh, and by the way, this happens to be the NURSES station, not the doctors station! You are barely out of school and you think you have the right to just come in here and take our chairs every time we stand up! You are the WORST!!!

Dr. K, beginning to look very afraid: I'm sorry, I didn't know it belonged to anyone...

Oh, and Gentle Reader, did you know he also happened to be the proud papa of four kids? You'd think he'd have a better handling of pregnant women than just "I didn't know it belonged to anyone," which was the only defense he could think of...And yes, I really did say all of that, and probably more. I was BRUTAL.

Of course, I felt bad once the initial surge of rage passed. I apologized. I even did it in front of everyone, so he could see I really meant it. I was truly ashamed of my outburst.

Apparently, he was ashamed of his actions too. The next day he brought me a king size Baby Ruth, when he had only eaten a snack size. I felt really small when he did that.

Oh, but you should also know that he went on to his surgical residency in our hospital.

And, sure enough, he turned out to be one of the most arrogant doctors we had.

And, yes. He continued to steal our chairs the minute we stood up.

But, I doubt he ever picked up a random candy bar sitting at the desk without first checking if it belonged to anyone!

Where the Wind Comes Sweeping Down My Moat!

It's windy today. Wow! I bet that's big news to any of you who realize I live in Oklahoma. However, I am just not sure any of you non-Okies can truly understand the power of our wind. Last Friday we had 60 to 70 mph winds. It literally rattled my windows. Oh, and it had torrential rain with it, and my kitchen window, which has never leaked before, leaked a river of water that literally ran onto the counter below. Lovely. I guess it was because the wind was out of the south, and that window faces south. Please, God, don't make me replace windows on this castle right now...

Speaking of our castle, Popcorn ran to check the mail today. She decided to cross the moat by leaping over it rather than taking the long, boring way down the driveway. Because, clearly, driveways are BORING!!! She's always looking to add a little spark to her life. Like the time I found her walking the ledge of our above ground pool like it was a balance beam. Life was really exciting when she discovered this was very likely going to result in a spanking of epic proportions...

Anyhoo, she decided to jump the moat. Only the wind is blowing. Really hard. Like, it's a beautiful day, and I needed to do yard work since I'm home with a sick kid today, but the wind is ridiculous...

Like, really ridiculous. Ridiculous enough to blow her over mid-jump and make her land in the moat...

Did you forget about my moat? Well, it has had an update since I originally posted pictures for you (click here for a refresher.)



You see, the city streets and planner guy of our humble town was finally sick of hearing me complain to him about the drainage that goes to my front yard, then stops because lo and behold water won't run uphill to the pond behind our house....

So, during the last heavy snow, he and his crew showed up with a back hoe and a dump truck and they dug this lovely ditch in my yard.

Ain't it a beaut!? The ground was so saturated when they began this endeavor that the water was literally pouring out underneath the back of the truck and running in a river right back to my yard. Our conversation was as follows:

Me: So, you decided to work on the drainage today?
City Streets Guy (CSG): Yep. We saw all the water standing in your neighborhood, and thought if we did this ditch out a little more, ti will at least let the water out from further up the street.
Me: But now it has nowhere to go. Are you planning on driving that backhoe through our yard today to correct the drainage at the back of my yard?
CSG: Oh no! It's way too wet for that. We just are out here for a few minutes to do what we can to let some of this water start this way...

I left in utter exasperation. Need I remind all of you that the main street south of our house has a drainage ditch on either side of it, AND it's at a lower elevation, but because the original developer "platted and did easements" for the water to drain to the back of our subdivision our city will never change it? Even if the plan makes no sense? And, because "all your neighbors have their driveways in now, and we'd have to tunnel under them to make it drain that way."

My heart bleeds...

Okay. I'm done with that rant for a few days at least. I'm sorry you must be burdened with this on such a regular basis. You see, I have to gripe to you, or Studmuffin gets wound up too, and that creates too much stress in the house, so with him I pretend the problem doesn't exist. Even when I'm hauling buckets of water out of the bathtub...

Yeah. Denial is a great coping mechanism for me...

However, let's not leave you with the mental image of my moat. Let's focus on this lovely young redbud....

No! No! Don't look down at the dandelions!!! They will remind you that I should have been doing yard work instead of napping today!

Instead, let's focus on the lovely crocus that started to bloom today. Did you know I almost dug these up last year because they never bloomed? Thank heavens I was too lazy to get that done!


I think those are irises to the side. However, they never bloomed last year either. My neighbors up the street (an older couple who I adore) told me they may not have been planted right by the previous owners...However, maybe it was an off year, so we'll see what blooms this year!

BTW, I went over to thank them for the butterfly bush I found lying in my yard on Friday night. It turns out they had put it there Thursday evening, and "told my nanny about it" who forgot to tell me.

But, I was totally okay with that, seein' as how Emmett & Katherine totally get that I'm a trophy wife, and so I need not only a nanny, but a home delivery service for yard beautification...

Either that, or they totally wish I'd do something to fix this place up, and in desperation they're leaving random bushes in my yard!

I obviously prefer the first theory.

Oh, one final thing.

I DO NOT DO FARMVILLE PEOPLE!!!

I blocked the application so nobody can even invite me. First, I'm shocked and offended that you have learned so little about me. Remember me? I'm the gal who will not see movies everyone must see, or read the book that will change my life, because really, I don't want to be a better person? That same gal stayed away from facebook until my hubby created an account for me, and basically the only time I go over there is when someone friends me. So. There you have it. Now, I expect no more comments about being disappointed in my farming habit that doesn't even exist!

And yes.

Apologies are expected.

The End.

Easter Weekend Conversations

Could someone please tell me what these lovely flowers are that appeared under my peach tree this year?

Yesterday we did "date" day with our kids...

Since Studmuffin has been taking Bookworm to softball 3 nights a week, he has individual time with her, and of course that means that I've had lots of time alone with Popcorn. Saturday I needed to go to the store and Studmuffin wanted to get some stuff at Lowe's, so we split up the kids and decided to take them out to eat after.

Is this the face of a kid dying to have her picture posted, or what? But, ain't she a beauty?

While we were eating at Arby's, a family of 4 came in. The mom was in quite the mood. She griped at her kids nonstop...It was one of those weird, uncomfortable moments where you just really want to go and ask her if she can hear herself, but I was also uncomfortably aware that there have been times when I've been that woman. Cranky for no reason. Irritable with my kids for no reason. It made me a little sick at my stomach...

We got in the car and I said "That woman was so awful to her kids. I'm sorry that I get cranky and talk to you guys sometimes that way."

Bookworm leaped to my defense. "Mom. That woman was RUDE. You are never that bad!"

Dear Lord, I pray she is right. But, even if she was lying to make me feel better, I appreciate the effort.

Now, this is the face of a kid willing to butter up her mama.

While Studmuffin and Popcorn were out eating, they went to Panda Express....

"Dad, I like orange chicken and sesame chicken. The sesame chicken is the one with hamburger seeds in it..."

"No, sweety. Hamburger seeds are baby calves."

"Yuck. I don't want to think about that."


Then, this evening as I was saying prayers and tucking in, and discussing the fun of egg hunts, Popcorn asked me if she had ever seen my natural hair color.

"No. I don't think so. My natural hair pretty much matches my eyebrows."

"Oh. Then, I've never seen it. Wouldn't it be weird if your eyebrows were curly like your hair?"

"How embarrassing. I would cut them then."

She replied without missing a beat. "Nah. If you had curly eyebrows, everyone would have curly eyebrows, so it would just be normal. Like a nose!"

Now. Is that a wild hair OR WHAT?

So, one last conversation for your reading pleasure.

I accepted a friend request on facebook from a friend in choir. We had briefly discussed that I really don't go there, but my boss wants me to do farmville, blah, blah, blah...

It turns out her husband used to be very active in farmville. She said he'd say things like, "I need to go tend my crops." Or, "I think I need to plant my watermelons."

I relayed this story to Studmuffin tonight as I was accepting her friend request. I had just gotten back from pulling some clothes from the washer to the dryer and grabbing some salsa....Because, seriously I have an addiction, and I love a good jar of salsa in the evenings...The chips are just a vehicle to get the salsa to my mouth.

I sat down and noticed that he had opened Evony Forever in a new tab...

Studmuffin said, "It's not like you can even eat those watermelons. By the way, when you're done with your blog, I need the laptop. I need to get my amulet on Evony..."



Yep. He's just a big ole kid at heart.