Just when they were about to get broken in...

As I told you yesterday, I ripped the crotch out on my scrub pants. Unfortunately, this was one of only 2 pairs of scrubs I wear to work. We are required to wear navy blue, and the hospital provided 2 pairs, plus I had a pair before I started working there, but they are too big for me, and they sag all over. Consequently, I have worn each of my scrubs a minimum of once a week for over a year, and many weeks I've worn them twice in one week. I had been considering breaking loose and buying a few extra pairs, but yesterday's debacle has pushed that into a must-do tomorrow since I work Thursday and Friday, and I have no desire to wash laundry Thursday night.

I have always kept my pants until they are completely worn out. I had a pair of acid washed jeans in high school that I L-O-V-E-D. I wore them every chance I got. Eventually, they started to wear out, so I changed them to "every day" jeans. I wore them to help Dad build fence, work cattle, etc.

Well, one bright morning we were planning to gather cattle. A family that lived nearby was helping us. We loaded our horses into the trailer and headed out. We arrived at the pasture, checked our cinches and began to mount up. I lifted my left knee and it ripped out. "Well darn," I thought to myself, "I hope I don't rub a sore on my knee." (I never wore chaps in my life.) I continued to mount, and just as I swung my right leg over the saddle. A horrible ripping sound filled the air, and I felt a distinct cool sensation across my backside. I had ripped the entire seat out of my pants!

Talk about embarrassed! I was horrified. I remember everyone got a huge laugh at my expense. Well, to say the least, I was no longer concerned about rubbing a raw spot on my knee!

Oops!

I'm sure this will astound all of you...

But I very seldom back down from a challenge, and that has led me into a few pickles.

Tonight the girls had piano lessons. We do lessons at our church, and my dear friend Roni's daughter has lessons just before my kids. Consequently, I try to arrive a few minutes early so we can chat. Not that we don't get to chat it up on Wednesday morning when we help our music pastor get ready for rehearsals and file music for him...Unfortunately, he is constantly asking us to do "stuff" and it totally interferes with our social time. Of course, we have worked out a small solution in the form of lunch out after we're done!

Anyway, back to the topic at hand...Popcorn was doing cartwheels. Endless cartwheels. In fact, she was so wound up, that I said she had to cartwheel all the way to the choir room, in the hopes that she would burn off some of that pent up energy from sitting at a desk all day. Watching her cartwheel led to a discussion of which hand you lead with to cartwheel, and which arm takes the most weight, etc.

Well, I'm not sure how it came about, but Roni had the sheer nerve to suggest that I couldn't do a cartwheel. Can you believe that? I stated that I most certainly can do a cartwheel, to which my beloved friend Roni replied, "But you can't do it in here!" Oh, Dear Reader, she may as well have waved a red flag at a charging bull...

I promptly did the most beautiful cartwheel a 33 year old mother of two can pull off.... Unfortunately, as soon as I had my legs in a perfect arc above my head I heard an ominous sound...

Dear Reader, did you know that polyester scrubs do not give? This is of particular concern when your scrubs are too long in the crotch, and it hangs about halfway down your thighs. Why on earth I thought that my pants would let me do a cartwheel with my legs spread wide I have no idea. Forget that. I wasn't thinking about my pants. I was thinking about thumbing my nose at my friend who dared to say I couldn't do a cartwheel.

However, I think she ended up thumbing her nose at me since I couldn't do anything but hold my fly together when I was done. Luckily I had several safety pins in my purse in case of emergency. Let me tell you, this was an emergency!


Can you believe the length of that rip?

You know it reminded me of a story....

But, I will post that story tomorrow!

Salsa Dusting

I hate cleaning. I especially hate dusting. The best part of having children is I can go months and never pick up a dust rag. Of course, I could do that before kids too. I consider dusting completely optional. It is to be done after every other part of cleaning is done, and then only if you have time!

Alas, today I needed to dust. I had done my workout, but felt that it wasn't as intense as I needed. I had a flashback to a conversation I had with my Grandmama Dolly a while back. She loves to dance. She and my Grandad Pat used to go dancing every chance they got. Which wasn't very often with 5 kids at home, I'm sure. Anyway, she also loves music. She watches country music videos a good majority of her day, and she reads Country Music Weekly. If there is something you need to know about the country music world, my Grandmama Dolly is the lady to ask!

But, back to dusting. She told me she used to crank the radio up and dance while she cleaned. Grandad would come home for lunch and he would say, "It sounds like a dance hall in here!" She always tells me that with a laugh. I decided to take a page from her book today. I turned the TV to an all music station. I didn't choose country, I chose.....

SALSA!!

Salsa is great exercise/cleaning music. I have no idea how to salsa for real. Only what I learned off of Dancing With the Stars. That makes me darn near an expert, right? Salsa music gives me many images. First, sky high heels. I simply must dance around on my very tip toes when salsa is playing. And hip action! Lots of hip action people! Suck in those abs and wiggle those hips! It's fun. Come on, you know you want to join me! Next, you will need to float your arms a lot. And fingers...Your fingers should be spread with your middle fingers slightly lower, in a very autentico' salsa stance...See? I'm even starting to use my Latin language!

What about dusting down low? Well, when I dust down the sides of book cases, dressers, etc, I like to balance up on one leg and extend the other behind and up as far as I can. In a very sensual, salsa-ey, way mind you. Because, again, I'm pretty sure I'm an expert at salsa...Or perhaps you can squeeze your thighs together and slowly shimmy down into a crouch, then shimmy back up. Wait. Is that salsa or something entirely different? I'm not sure...

What about working your shoulders? I'm pretty sure you're going to want to shimmy that chest and hip thrust from the piano to the coffee table...Then down the hall to your bedroom (to dust you silly goose!)....

Shimmy, shimmy, thrust, thrust thrust....

Wiggle, wiggle...Stay on your toes, now!

Are those abs in tight?

Now you're getting it! Have fun! ARRIBA!!!!

Ummm, sorry, but no video for you...I may have very little shame, but I do have a little! I think it's in my little finger, but I'm not sure. I just know it's there.

So, come on! Bailar!! Bailar!! Vive la vida loca!!!

*that's dance, dance, live the crazy life for all of you gente que no hablan espanol out there*

She has even less shame than me.

Hey, who watched Dancing with the Stars?

Well, I did. And poor Studmuffin did by default. He hates it. But, last night as he suffered through the finale, Cloris came on. You know how outrageous her antics were. Studmuffin immediately said "That woman has NO shame."

Me: Wait a minute, you said I had no shame. Are you comparing me to Cloris Leachman? (not sure of the spelling)

Studmuffin: NO. She puts you to shame on having no shame.

There you have it Dear Reader. Someone has less shame than I do. Amen.


Warning: Drastic Subject Change!!!!

We had piano last night. Tuesdays are hectic. I pick up the girls from the sitter, we come home, grab a snack, the piano bag, and out the door to lessons. We then get home from there about 6:45, and I make dinner.

So, here's the scene. I'm cooking tacos, Studmuffin is helping (in the kitchen, again...be still my heart) and Bookworm is illustrating her letter to Santa. Popcorn is mysteriously missing..........

heard from a distance "Bookworm! I need your help!"

Bookworm does not deign to answer....She is busy as I mentioned. A few moments pass......


"Bookworm I need your help! Right now! HURRY!" This summons is still distant if a little more frantic.

Still no response, and honestly, I'm listening, but only with half an ear, and a small kernel of unease is beginning to develop, but I shove it away, because I'm hungry, and ask anyone, if I'm hungry, watch out!

A few moment pass again..... This time the summons is downright angry. And anxious.

Studmuffin: I'll come help you, you're sister is busy. SILENCE


MORE SILENCE

Studmuffin is helping, but there is still this vast amount of.................SILENCE.

My momdar is flashing like crazy now, but again, I'm hungry, and that cheese won't grate itself. Besides I'm sure Studmuffin has everything under control.....

Well, they reappeared in time for supper, and nothing was mentioned. I was hungry, so my curiosity was dampened by my belly. But, of course, I'm nosy and I have to know what the big deal was.......

Well, it seems that when we got home from the babysitters with a whole 5 minutes to spare before leaving again, Popcorn decided to play with her sister's gerbil, Ava. Only, Ava wouldn't let her catch her....Then, I said it was time to go, and she dashed out the door.....with the cage left open.

Yep, Ava had made her great escape....to the closet....AKA the black whole. The abyss where all toys are thrown, without a care. The place where there is a giant pile of Barbie furniture, and carriages, and cars.....

Ava had a great time....escaping Studmuffin's hands. She'd leap from obstacle to obstacle. From Cinderella's carriage, to Barbie's Mustang....into the bed, under the dining room chairs...between the wall and the Barbie carrying case....

Do you know the disadvantage to trying to catch a gerbil? You are afraid you'll hurt them, and they have no such fear....they'll run under your feet, or they'll dart under a piece of furniture, which you'll have to move, and pray you don't squish them. It's a very stressful experience.

Studmuffin eventually just "herded" her out of the closet where Popcorn was able to easily catch her in the wide open space of the bedroom carpet. FYI, gerbils aren't quick, but they are able to elude you in obstacle course surroundings, because, again, there is the fear of hurting the little rodents.

Well, Ava was safely returned to her cage where she will surely ponder her next escape. And Popcorn confessed she was not calling for our assistance, because she was hoping to avoid getting into trouble. Smart thinking. But, lucky for her, Daddy responded to her cry for help. He just silently went into rescue mode, where I would have went into lecture mode, then proceeded to attempt the rescue while simultaneously continuing the lecture until the gerbil was caught, and probably continued it well into the evening meal.....Well, thankfully, Studmuffin responded to the cry for help, so all I had to do was laugh at the image of him trying to catch a gerbil in a messy closet. All's well that ends well!