Saturday, June 30, 2012

DO YOU SEE WHAT I SEE?

Mags: "Surgery makes you smell weird, Mama."

It's true. Hospitals aren't the best smelling places on earth. But yesterday's surgery went better than expected, so it's okay if  I wreaked. Unlike two years ago when I had to stay in the hospital for two nights, I was allowed to come home the same day with this surgery. They pumped me full of pain medication and handed me over to the capable hands of my husband. I slept the day away once I was in my own bed. I woke up a few times in the middle of the night. I'm pretty sure I tweeted with my friend, Michele, during one of those times about blogging about any weird post-surgical hallucinations I had. I fell into a deep sleep at about 2:30 and woke about 5AM to this:

 

Between my anesthesia wearing off and the pain killers in my system, my brain was mushy. I blinked hard a few times and then I froze. My thought process went like this:

" There's a cat in the house. We don't own a cat. Wait, do we? No, we don't.  I'm allergic. Did we leave a door open yesterday? Maybe the bathroom window was open? It's on the second floor, but cats can climb and jump. Why isn't the cat moving? I hope it didn't pee in the laundry basket full of clean clothes next to my dresser. Did it just 'meow'? Should I wake up Chris? We have to get that cat out of here somehow."

Then my foggy brain remembered something. Mags had brought her toy "FUR REAL KITTY"  into our bedroom to remind me to change the batteries. It's no wonder they call those things "FUR REAL".Whew!

On top of waiting for pretend cats to meow, I also thanked my parents four different times for the flowers they sent me. I posted on Facebook, sent a text, wrote an email, and then, forgetting I did any of that yesterday, posted it on Facebook again this morning. Mushy brain. But due to the fact I love things in 5's or 10's, I'm going to thank my Mom and Dad one more time for the flowers in this post. 


Oh, look! My alarm just went off. It's time for some more pain relief 
and a nap. Thanks for the outpouring of love and support from you all. 
We really appreciate it!

Thursday, June 28, 2012

War

Guest Post by Chris (Melissa's Husband)

Melissa (via Text Message): "The doctor wants to take it out."


Chris (via Text Message): "Whoa. She just declared war on your insides."

Peace

I’m all for peace. Peace, not war and all that. But sometimes, after all diplomatic negotiations have been exhausted, military action is necessary. Sometimes, you have to roll out the tanks, fire up the missiles and bomb the hell out of the nasty for the greater good. 

About three weeks ago my wife and I made the joint decision to go to war. We met with a number of advisors, listened to what they had to say, weighed the options and consequences, and came to the conclusion it was time to pull the trigger. We signed the declaration of war and prepared for battle.

Unrest

It isn’t like we didn’t give the aggressor fair warning. Two years ago we tried to send a clear message by obliterating more than half the enemy’s forces. Severely diminished, we thought for sure what remained would fall in line; back into an everyday rhythm. Peace reigned for awhile, but the malevolence couldn’t be contained forever. After two years of lying low, the tyrannical despot surfaced, bringing with it more pain and suffering. 

At first we tried to ignore it. Then, when it refused to be ignored, we tried to reason with it. Again, our pleas fell on deaf ears. Backs against the wall, we felt like we had no choice but to go to war.

Conflict

Two years ago, Melissa had a partial hysterectomy. After all was said and done, her right ovary was left intact although we knew it wasn’t completely healthy. A history of cysts and other various skirmishes had left it damaged, but functional. Still, we let it live on in hopes that it would put off menopause for a few years. The doctor guessed that the ovary might continue to work without incident for five to eight more years, but she admitted, this was just a guess. It turned out to be two.

For the last few months Melissa has found herself in an ever increasing amount of abdominal pain. At first, it was just a whisper compared to the screaming, stabbing, gut-wrenching agony she felt two years prior. Tough as nails, she ignored it for as long as she could. Eventually however, the pain intensified to a point where it demanded attention. 

That’s when she went to the doctor who recommended we send in a hit squad to attack her remaining ovary. Unlike Osama Bin Laden, we knew exactly where this tyrant lived. So the mission was simple. Go in and extract the despicable organ; all mutated with fibrous, ulcerated cysts. Problem solved. While there, a pre-emptive strike was ordered on her appendix too.

With surgical precision, these organs were removed. A minor swipe looking for any intestinal adhesions was performed just for good measure. Our team of professionals was thorough, leaving no loose ends to cause any additional trouble.

Exit Strategy – Present Day

Recovery time for the procedure is ,miraculously, only one week. Melissa will rest in bed, mostly sleeping. That said, all of her favorite things are all lined up to speed along her recovery. Vampire DVDs, werewolf books, comfy pajamas, snuggles from her babes, and heaping…no that’s not quite right…HEAPING! amounts of chocolate will carry her through. Her body will be in flux, having been thrust into menopause, but we’re prepared for this inevitability. As the dust settles, her body will be discovering how to behave without the miscreants disturbing the peace. This will be an adjustment, for sure, but we’ll be ready with heaping…no that’s not quite right…HEAPING! amounts of laughter and love.

Allies

It is always easier to head into a conflict knowing you have a conglomerate of support. This battle is no exception. Thank you…yes you, the one reading this blog post.. for supporting the cause. Your comments, your posts, your tweets, your status updates, your offerings, your words of encouragement, your donations of meals, and all the rest make up our own network of United Nations. Without you, we’d be facing the great unknown alone. Thank you for it all.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I am needed in the war room…




 

LITTLE BIT OF THIS AND A LITTLE BIT OF THAT

Mags: "Mama, are they going to stick a needle in your arm?"
Me: "Yes, but it won't hurt because they are going to give me special medicine to numb the area before they put it in. Cool, huh?"
Mags: "Good. But if it hurts, tell me. I'll give them a mean look and then karate chop them. (insert maniacal laugh)"

It's nice when someone always has your back. You never have to worry that you're alone, even when you feel like you are. That's where you all, ya'll, youse come in. I was overwhelmed by the love and support these past weeks since I told people about the upcoming surgery. Whether it was offers of food, prayers, good thoughts, texts, emails, posts, phone calls, making me laugh, kicking my butt in Words With Friends (I'll be back), or having me watch the SCARIEST frigging movies out there (ahem...Chris)...I appreciate it.  THANK YOU!

 YOU, yes I'm looking at YOU!


 I've made some awesome friends out there and I'm grateful for every single one of you. I'll be going to the hospital this morning and Chris will be with the kids while I'm in prep and surgery. I have no doubt they'll be off having fun adventures because my husband is the master of distraction. It's a gift. He'll update on social media because like a net, it captures everyone. Of course he will call my mom personally...DON'T WORRY, MOM! :)

Here we go. We're jumping into this adventure with both feet.


Total side note: In my sleeplessness lately, I noticed that I have written 173 posts since I started at the end of December. Whew. I talk a lot. When I went to my stats, I wasn't overly surprised with my top 5 visited posts of all time. I thought I would post them for you all in case you just joined me on this adventure or if there were some you missed out on reading. I also included my own top 5 favorite posts that I've written .Enjoy!

 Have a great day, everyone. Tuck is up so I have
 to catch a quick snuggle before my day begins. 

Top 5 most popular posts:


Top 5 of my personal favorites:


My writing piece that won a contest: 
 

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

WAITING ON A TOOTH

Tuck: "I'm doing it! It's working! It's working! IT'S OUT! I DID IT!"

Last night Tuck waited until Chris walked in the door and then yanked his very first loose tooth out. It had been loose since April, I kid you not. And the boy was done with it today when he could not eat the PB&J he had made all by himself. I distracted him from pulling it around noon by listening to our audio story, A Tooth's Story (you can listen here). Like I said, it's his first tooth and I knew Chris wanted to be there. Plus, it totally grossed me out and every time he pushed it forward with his tongue I felt a little lightheaded. Turns out I'm a huge woos with wiggly, wobbly teeth. 

Since Tuck is our tenderhearted, gentle, old soul, we were shocked that he just dug right in and started to push it out. Chris handled the taping and Mags gave me the play by play (I couldn't watch).

"MAMA! THERE IS BLOOD! IT IS BLEEDING!" (I'm feeling faint)

"MAMA! IT'S ALMOST THERE. TUCK IS SO BRAVE!" (He really is)

Mags cheered her big brother on with her usual enthusiasm for all things Tuck. Chris recorded it for him to watch later. I could hear Chris gently coaxing him along and Tuck hanging onto every word he had to say. He worked at it for a little bit, but he was insistent that sucker was coming out and we were impressed with his determination. Then, POP! 



 And instantaneously, he was "BIG".


*If you haven't heard the song "BIG" by the kid's band, the 
Imagination Movers, it's one you should check out. 
You can find it on their Juice Box Heroes CD. 

 

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

PREPARATION IS KEY

Mags: "Mama, here. You can have Silky to take with you for your surgery."
Me: "Thanks, Mags! That is so sweet of you!"
(Two minutes later)
Mags: "Umm, can I have Silky back now? How about you just THINK about her while you're in surgery. Okay?"

It was the thought that counts. Right? For Mags to even think about giving me her treasured comfort item to take to the hospital was a very sweet and selfless gesture. Both kids have been helping me to get the house cleaned up and errands run before Thursday's surgery. I should only be down and out for a week after, but my anal nature makes me want to make sure the fridge is filled, the laundry is caught up, the deck is stained, and the sink is fairly cleared. You know all the normal everyday things. 

While helping me prepare, I found some items on my dresser this morning. The kids had put some things there for me to bring along to the hospital on Thursday morning.  

From Tucker:

*His Batman sunglasses. This is so the lights in the room wouldn't be too bright when I woke up. Plus, I would look "very cool". 

*One of his comfort items. He has about 50 of these socks he took to as a baby. He loves them all the same. To give me one to take is BIG. He won't even let Chris take one when he goes away on trips.

From Mags:

*A My Little Pony. This is for when I wake up and I get bored, I can play with her. 

*One of her comfort items. Even though she has THREE Silkies, she does not share them. They are hers and hers alone. This one you see in the picture is the one I replaced her lost one with. You can read that story here. Even though it is not as loved as the other two (all Silkies are NOT created equal) it was still a very kind gesture.


I'm sure the doctor will appreciate me gripping all these things 
in my fists on Thursday morning.

Well, not Silky. But I'll be able to THINK about 
Silky (and her owner) and that's enough comfort for me.

Monday, June 25, 2012

PICTURE THIS

Tuck: "Mama, look at that Bigfoot."
Me: "Oh, yeah. He looks angry, doesn't he?"
Tuck: "Do you think that is made from real Bigfoot meat?"
Me: "Umm...I don't know. What do you think?"

Tuck: "I think it is because you know Bigfoot is real, right?"
Me: "Well, remember what the show 'Finding Bigfoot' says? They haven't
found anyone that can prove they've actually seen him."
Tuck: "I know, but I bet that's really Bigfoot meat."
Mags: "I bet it has fur in it."
Tuck: "Eww Mags! That's gross!"
Mags: (whispers) "And Bigfoot poop."

(Uncontrollable laughter from both kids...and the grocery store cashier)


This is the nineteenth installment of "Picture This".



Sunday, June 24, 2012

NO MEANS NO

Tuck: "MAGGIENOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

That up there has been an official word in our household since January of 2009, which was around the time that Mags learned to walk. She was like Godzilla crushing block buildings or swiping a Matchbox race car line-up in one fell swoop. Most of the time it was the the unsteady beat of her new walk that led to these debacles. Tuck (only 3 at the time) was as patient as he could be. We helped him understand that she didn't mean to, that she was just learning. But then...it happened. One day he reacted with a screech. She LOVED it. Chaos ensued. And the phrase "MAGGIENOOOOOOOOOOOOO" was born. 

It was his sounding alarm of sorts. A way to let us know that she was too near to his toy of choice. I'd rush into the room with my dish soap hands and defuse the situation. She'd have this devilish little smile on her 15-old-month face that was so darn irresistible. It was nearly impossible to stifle a giggle when I saw it. Strategies to help distract her would be given, hands would be taken, little sister would be led out of the room with promises of bubbly hands like Mama's. It would work. But then...

She craved his reaction. No matter how much I did to give him his alone time, she's find a way in there to him. He was like a magnet. She couldn't help herself. Soon, just the sound of her little pitter patter coming down the hall would trigger his battle cry.

"MAGGIENOOOOOOOOOOO!"

One particular day, after one too many of these screams, I said to him,

"Tuck, she's just trying to get your goat. The more you scream, the more she likes it. Remember, if you don't react to her, she'll get bored and leave."

A whole conversation occurred about what "trying to get your goat" meant. After the explanation, the phrase made him laugh. 

Chris, who affectionately nicknamed Mags "Captain Destructo", worked hard to tame the beast, too.  We actually ended up writing a story for the kids called Captain Destructo. We posted it on our podcast, Night Light Stories, thinking there were other families and siblings having the same issues that would be able to relate. You can hear it here.

After many weeks of this, one day I heard IT as I was putting laundry away. Tuck was using the strategies we had given him to apply in these "sister situations". Ignore her. Distract her. Get up, walk away, and come get Mama or Daddy. Play in the living room. Tell her no in a softer voice. Offer her another toy. Play WITH her. Lead her gently out of your room if one of us wasn't in there with you. Both kids were playing peacefully and so I said,
"Great job, guys. I LOVE how you are playing TOGETHER so nicely."

Tuck looked up at me, smiled and in his matter-of-fact tone said,

"She was trying to get my sheep, Mama, but I didn't let her."

Once I realized what he was trying to say, there was no holding back my laughter. I didn't even correct him. In fact, we added it to the many commonly used made-up phrases we have in our house.


Sheep are much sweeter than goats anyway. 


Photo taken November 2009
Do you have any made up phrases that you use in your household? 
Feel free to share in the comments! 


Wednesday, June 20, 2012

WHO WANTS SOME CRAB?

Do you know those dreams you wake up from and are so relieved that it wasn't real? I can remember having those as a child and even though I was awake, I was still terrified that whatever or whoever I was dreaming about was somehow around me. It would take me a moment or two of really waking myself up to realize I was safe. 

Mags had one of those dreams last night. At 4AM she ended up by our bed shaking and refusing to go back into her room. Once Chris and I talked to her about it, she calmed down. As I carried her back to her bed and laid her back down, this was the conversation we had:

Mags: "I'm not going in there, Mama. There's a giant crab. He's trying to pinch me."
Me: "It was just a dream, Mags. See? Look in your room, there's no giant crab."
Mags: "Of course you can't see him. That's because he's invisible."
Me: "I will carry you in so you don't have to walk across your floor, okay?"
Mags: "Okay. Just be careful he doesn't pinch your butt."
Me: "I'll be careful. See? We are at your bed and no crab. Nothing pinched either of us. All that's in your room is the big mess you guys made."
Mags: *giggling* "Tuck made most of it."
Me: "Alright, let's get you tucked in and put all your stuffed friends around you. That will keep any more bad dreams about stinky crabs away."
Mags: "And silkies, too. Can you lay with me until I fall asleep, Mama?"
Me: "Yes. Let me just climb in over here...."
Mags: "NO! Mama! You sleep on the outside of the bed. That way if the crab comes back he'll pinch you first!"
Me: "Good plan. Night, Mags."
Mags: "Night, Mama. Night, invisible crabby."

All I knew was if anything pinched my butt, it was getting boiled. 

Trifecta Writing Challenge: Drenched

This post is in response to Trifecta's Weekly Challenge. They ask this week that we use the third definition of the given word in a 33-333 word story. This week's word is:

BLUE (adjective)

1  : of the color blue
2  a : bluish <the blue haze of tobacco smoke>
    b : discolored by or as if by bruising <blue with cold>  
    c : bluish gray <a blue cat>
3  a : low in spirits : melancholy
    b : marked by low spirits : depressing <a blue funk> <things looked blue>


Author's note: I used this story for Lance's 100 Word Song about a month back. I thought it fit this challenge as well, so I tweaked it a little bit. 


DRENCHED

The demon lay dormant deep within. It always possessed the threat of releasing its fury without warning, without hesitation. It’s monition summoned her attention when her screams for help became too close to the surface. Tortuous pain would admonish her for this behavior.

Her beauty was its mask. She was a beguiler. Her closest confidants could almost see past it. She'd fend them off by saying,

"I'm just a little blue." 

They could never know. People passed her on the street, unaware of her imminent demise, her diminishing spirit. Her soul riddled with evil, her body haggard and jaded. Relinquishing control would make it go away. And then, just as it thought it was victorious, he came into her life, drenched in light. 

THINGS I'M AFRAID TO TELL YOU

This post is in response to a clever link-up I found through my friend, Michele at ODNT.  It is called Things I’m Afraid to Tell You,’. After some hemming and hawing, I decided to give it a try, too. Here we go!




1. I have a confession to make. I like it when things end in the numbers zero or five. Hopefully this post will have five or ten things exactly. Speaking of numbers...


2. I attended Catholic School for 13 years and was taught by the nuns of Notre Dame. Speaking of nuns...


3. I was taught sex ed by a nun. I was dared by a friend to ask said nun, "If you've never had sex, how do you know how it feels?." As soon as the question came out of my mouth, I was sent to the vice-principal's office.
Speaking of things coming out of my mouth...


4.. I often laugh uncontrollably when I am nervous or embarrassed. Speaking of being embarrassed...


5. I would get so embarrassed as a kid when a couple would kiss on TV, like Batman and Cat Woman. I still get that way as an adult when there is a romantic moment in a movie or show. Speaking of kissing....


6. I kissed my husband first. I had to know and he was being too much of a gentlemen. Speaking of gentlemen....


7. Have you read 50 Shades of Grey? I can't make it through that book for the life of me. It must be all the guilt put into me by the nuns. Speaking of guilt...


8. My husband says I wake up feeling guilty because I say "I'm sorry" for everything even when it isn't my fault. (I apologize for the length of this post) Speaking of waking up...


9. I watched the entire series of the X-Files through all nine months of my  pregnancy with our first child between the hours of 1AM and 5AM. Speaking of 5AM....


10 That's the time I'll be up with the four-year-old. She still doesn't sleep through the night. So what's the confession I have to make? I'M. REALLY. REALLY. TIRED!  


Good night!

Monday, June 18, 2012

JUST KEEP SWIMMING

Tuck: "Mama, watch this. Watch this. Watch this. Watch this. Watch this. Mama! Watch this. Watch this. Watch this. Watch this. Mama! Are you watching?"
Me: "Yes, Tuck, I'm watching. Believe me. I am watching."

The milestones the kids are reaching lately are coming on fast and furious. We were in a lull there for a while and now all of the sudden, BAM! Tuck's tooth that has been loose since April (I kid you not...see this post) has finally decided to break free and just go for it already. He keeps bending it forward with his tongue, which totally grosses me out. That thing will be popping out before we know it. 

Back in April Tuck asked to take the training wheels off his bike. He really wanted to learn to ride. It took him some time and we'd go to our nearby walking path (because it's hard to learn to ride on a mountain). He was still a little wobbly...that is until last night when he hopped on his bike and took off. He had complete control, kept his momentum up and maneuvered around obstacles like a pro. I was proud and amazed all at the same time. 

Then we went to the park. Both the kids were all over that place. I couldn't keep up. Mags realized this year that some of the equipment she couldn't maneuver before is now easy peasy. It was the same deal with Tuck. The fire pole, the rock wall, and this strangely shaped thing were all doable.


Both kids were like Spider Man. 


So, between  losing teeth,  ditching training wheels, owning the park equipment, upgrading the car seats to booster seats and  moving along in swimming class; I will be the mom in the corner crying throughout the summer. Of course it will mostly be out of pride and admiration for their new found level of independence. Seriously, though, all those old ladies in the line at the grocery store who told me not to blink.... 

YOU.WERE.RIGHT! 

Who's with me in the corner this summer?
What milestones are you seeing lately in your household?

Saturday, June 16, 2012

PICTURE THIS: Father's Day Edition

Chris (Day 1, hour 1): "So cool, Tuck! Santa brought you the Millennium Falcon! I can't wait to put it together and play with it with you! Thanks, Santa!"




Chris (Day 2, hour 6): "I think this will be going on top of the hutch where nobody can touch it. We can just look at it. Thanks, Santa."




To all the dads out there who have spent countless hours 
putting these "great" toys together, this one's for you! 

TRIFEXTRA: Free Milk and a Cow

This post is in response to Trifecta's Trifextra Weekend Challenge. Here's what they asked us to do:

"We're going back to an old faithful, mostly because it delights us to see the stories you create from our photos.  Please give us a creative piece inspired by the photo below.  You have two options for word count: you can either give us 33 words or 333 words.  Please note: we are not asking for a post between 33 and 333 words.  We are asking for a post that is exactly 33 words or exactly 333 words."


A cow for me!
Milk, you’ll see.
She obviously needs a place to stay.
I’ll wash her, love her, and feed her hay.
Wait...what’s that smell?
Move along. I wish you well.


CHECK YOUR EMAIL, DUDE-WRITING CONTEST

I follow other blogs and learn a lot from them. There are many different types of writing styles and clever posts. Some posts are done in a series. For example, my friend, Michele from ODNT had received numerous emails from two interesting brothers by accident. She was on their colorful email exchange for a while. For all of our enjoyment she posted these crazy exchanges between them. Since there were only 10 "episodes", she came up with a contest for her followers to write the closing letter between Bill and Jud. Below is my entry, but you can read her series and write your own letter here: 



Dear Jud,

You won’t believe what happened last night. Mrs. J and I were at the Power game, as usual, it being dollar beer night and all. Lucky for us we had three dollar bills between us.  I felt someone sit right beside me, way too close, youse know how that goes. It was Mrs. Bossy Pants. Since I hadn’t called her back and all, she knew where to find me. I thought for sure the six rows of the Palm Springer “men” would hide me, but you know I don’t miss a meal.  Anyways, I could see Mrs. J watching me at at the bottom of the stands while she was waiting for the brews.  Mrs. Bossy Pants was real mad. Since she had let me use her basement bathtub to make Mom’s home brew (thanks for the recipe), she told me I at least owed her a call back. A call back? What does that even mean? I don’t understand things like this. I guess I should have done a more thorough search in ‘dating two women at once’ when Mrs. J had me looking up ‘married men’ on the internets. Turns out I got sidetracked on those internets and found some more exciting things to look at. Did you know they have pictures of the woman form on there? (smile) So, Mrs. J made her way back to our seats with three beers. Her years waitressing at the local watering hole shows in how she can carry three beers at once. I was worried there would be a cat fight when they saw each other, but turns out beer is a woman soother. Who knew?  I bet the internets did. Wouldn’t you know it? Those two hens got along and chattered through most of the game. I was getting so ticked because all I wanted to do was to hear who was making hits and then I remembered your tactic. So, I whispered something about one of my internet searches to them real soft like and soon they were both screaming at the top of their lungs at me. Fingers were being pointed and they were in my face. Security was up in the stands in a few minutes and asked them to leave on account of Mrs. Bossy Pants spilling her beer all over the couple of men in front of us. Once they were both gone, I sat and enjoyed the rest of my beer. At the end of the game I finally made my way down on the field for their weeekly ‘dig for a diamond’. This time I had my metal detector. If I find a real diamond, I’ll be sure to pawn it off and come visit youse. Here’s hoping I can get in the house tonight when I get home. If not, I’ll have to sleep in the pool. Hopefully I’ll talk to youse tomorrow or see you tomorrow. You never know.

Bill




Friday, June 15, 2012

CHARACTER ASSASSINATION CAROUSEL: THE MONSTER AT THE END OF THIS BOOK

I’m participating today in the Character Assassination Carousel by the very funny Ninja Mom. Each month she hosts one of her blogger friends as they place their children’s story of choice in a brand new light...after most likely reading it so many times they can recite it by heart.
Previously on the carousel was Farrah at The Three and Under.  Take a spin with  the list  of other contributors who cleverly put some of children's beloved titles and characters to the test.  Next in line is Marian at Just Keep Swimming. I can't wait to find out what she has in store for us in July!
http://www.ninjamomblog.com/p/character-assassination-carousel.html
What book did I choose you might ask? 


That's right. The carousel is brought to you by the letter M and the number 4. A Sesame Street Golden Book favorite.  Hello, everybodeeeee! 

I have a personal story behind this book before we begin. It includes the reasoning why I rarely pull this sucker off the shelf anymore. Picture it. A new mom with her four-month-old baby boy on the floor. She's cooing and giggling with the baby and then thinks it would be such a sweet moment if she read one of her favorite books from childhood to her son.  She grabs the book off the shelf and snuggles in with her little man. As she begins to read she gets creative and poorly tries to imitate the voice of Grover. Then the baby starts to cry. No, not just cry. WAIL AND TREMBLE.  IN FEAR.  Reading time is over, Grover.

But besides scarring my child with this book, Grover's reactions kick me into "Mommy Mode".  All I want to do is soothe him, calm him, scold him, and then put him in time-out for making such a mess.  Here. Let me show you. 

Grover. Chill out, buddy. Don't worry about it. You know you're a monster, right? Crap. Now I have to give Grover the "Big Bird and the bees" talk. 

Wait a cotton pickin' second, Grover. I don't have enough time to read 'Fifty Shades of Grey' and now you're telling me I can't read this book either? 
 It will take five minutes max if you just let me turn the pages. 

Oh for goodness sake. Save the drama for your own mama. 
I have to get through this book at some point. Just go sit over there on the other side of the room if you don't want to listen. Ear muffs.

Grover, honey, I am a mom of a four and six-year-old.  Do you think a few ropes are going to slow me down? By the way, where did you get those ropes?
If those came from Oscar's "house", we're going to need to Purell your hands. 

GROVER! Don't lose your sh@#. I'm right here. Nothing is going to happen. 
I'll be honest, though. I'm a little freaked by the stars shooting out of your mouth. What's next? Pea soup?

Again. Where are you getting all these materials to make these things? It's fine because it keeps you from wigging out on me, but let me just giving you a quick warning. If your hammering wakes up the four-year-old from her much needed nap, I'll be the one spitting pea soup. Capisce?

I'm sorry. Did you just say that *I* am making a terrible mess?  Someone needs to stop and think. Did I take out the ropes? NOPE. NOT ME. Did I take out the hammer, nails, wood, saw horse, and vice? NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. NOPE. AAAAND NOPE! So, let's try this again. WHO is making the mess?

Seriously, Grover? Do you know how hard it is to get mortar out of fur? 
THINK GUM. *sigh*

Aww! Really?  Me?  Strong? Thanks, Grover. That is nice of you to say. Lately I've just been feeling like I am holding it together by a string, but this made me really feel like I'm doing alright.  I'll get the broom and you get the dustpan. If we work together, we can get this cleaned up in no time.  Who wants to start us off with the "Clean Up" song?

Okay. We've been over this. What kind of monsters do you think you are going to find? Werewolves that take off their shirts and sparkly vampires? In that case, we'd better hurry to the end!  TRUST ME! 

OH! *YOU* told *ME*.
 I see what you are doing here. A little reverse psychology.
 *Someone* has been paying attention. 

Don't be embarrassed. But here's a quick tip: 
Remember what you have learned here today because ...

...you're going to be doing it all over again VERY, VERY soon! 

Thanks, Ninja Mom
This was such a fun and therapeutic writing experience.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

WORDS ACCORDING TO MAGS: WINNERS

Remember this post

I was trying something new on my blog. I posted a picture and asked for you to come up with a caption OR conversation that you could hear happening between Mags and I.  I also said the winner would have their name put in lights or fire on my blog. Let's start with a reminder of what the picture was. 


I have some funny friends and readers. You guys were very creative and even used content from past blog posts! I can't even remember yesterday and half the time I call the kids "Mojo", which was our pet ferret's name who has been dead for three years. I was impressed!

I ended up choosing two winners. I could see Mags saying both of these things below. Plus, the serious look on my face happens in real life when I am trying to understand what she is asking or saying without laughing or looking stunned. She gets REALLY mad if I do that.

Without further ado, CONGRATULATIONS to DONNA and KIKI. 
Read their pondering thoughts below: 


"Why is the name for fear of long words 'hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia'?"


"Hmmm... What if the hokey pokey really *is* what it's all about?"


I'm thinking I'll have to do this again, if the opportunity arises. 
Thanks everyone for playing along with me!

*Image credit to http://flamingtext.com

Monday, June 11, 2012

START SPREADING THE NEWS: BIRTHDAY EDITION

Tuck walking by my computer screen: "MAMA! MAMA!" *pointing*
Me: "What? What is it?"
Tuck: "What's this on your computer?"
Me: "That's called Twitter. It's a bunch of people on a website talking to each other."
Tuck: "So you have people you know on here?"
Me: "Yes. I 'follow' people and then they 'follow ' me back."
Tuck: *looking closely* "Mama, did you know CAT WOMAN is following you?"
Me: *looking* "Oh, no. That's my friend Michele. She's wearing a black mask in her picture for Mardi Gras."
Tuck: "No. That's Cat Woman. And she's on here. WOW!"
Me: "Okay. She's Cat Woman."
Tuck: "I'm gonna go tell Mags that Cat Woman is your friend. AWESOME!"

(I wrote out the above conversation in my 'blog notes' back in February. 
I've been waiting to use it in a post and I am finally getting the chance.)

The definition of a blog is this: a Web site containing the writer's own experiences, observations, opinions, etc., and often having images and links to other Web sites.

When I started my very own blog, I was nervous. I was the new girl walking into a room full of unknown people. Would people like me? Should I bring some beer? Where do I find bloggers that are like me?  I decided the only way to find them was to start looking. So, after nights of searching and reading other blogs, I fell upon a name.

It caught my eye immediately and I HAD to know what it was about. “Old Dog New Tits”. I immediately thought: “A blog about boob jobs”. One click and my whole opinion changed. I was captured by her impressive writing style, wit, humor and overall variety she provided. Her blog did begin with her researching breast augmentation and reporting her findings from different doctors and appointments. However,  like a rollercoaster,  life took over. She’s had ups and downs, twists and turns, and a few loopty-loops that made my stomach turn for her.  As the months have gone by since I found her, her blog has evolved. She fits the definition above perfectly by writing out her own experiences, observations and she often posts HILARIOUS images, such as this one.

Saturday she did a tweet series for Johnny Depp’s birthday. In this series of tweets (that had me laughing out loud), she mentioned that it was her birthday in two days...MONDAY! I tried to think of what I could do for her birthday and soon realized I would need back up. But who? Who could help me think of something silly? Our mutual blogger friend El Guapo, of course. So Guap and I  conspired for a little bit and decided we would celebrate her big day on our blogs. Guapo’s post on ODNT can be found here. It sums her up well and shows off his clever humor.

Happy Birthday to my friend, Michele...ODNT....Old Dog New Tits. Thank you for the daily laughs and creative inspiration. I look forward to the many more adventures we all get the share with you.



Below are some posts (or series of posts) of hers that are my favorites. I thought it would be a good idea to share them with all of you.These should get you started. Enjoy!

Who she is and how she got started
The Day Things Got Hairy At Disney World

Check Your Email, Dude-Brotherly Love with Bill and Jud
Kleinpeter Dairy Farms
A Disney Vacation in Tweets
Trifecta: Waterproof

ALL the ODNT Jr. Posts