My poor little tripod Rosco. 

Our Own Private Tripod

Rosco made it almost all the way home yesterday before he crapped in my car. Lovely, I know. But I had a large piece of cardboard on the seat and had it covered with two blankets. Most of the poo was on the blanket, but he still was kind enough to somehow smear it all over the door. I was 9 minutes late for work after cleaning that mess up. I was actually going to be early for a change until Rosco left me a little package in the back seat.
I wasn't too sure about what to expect when I saw him. Was he going to be in pain? Was he going to be limping around and all pitiful? When the vet brought him out, Rosco was fairly prancing. Then when he I said "ROSCO!" and he turned and saw me, he started wiggling all over, shaking his butt, which is his way of wagging his tail, since he doesn't have one. He was perfectly fine. I was worried about nothing. When Shael saw him, though, she wouldn't even come close to him. He freaked her out. I kept telling her that he was the same dog and she shouldn't be scared of him, but she still wouldn't get near him. He was whining and straining at his rope to get to her. She finally warmed up to him a bit. Petted him, as long as his stump was faced away from her and she didn't have to see it.
This lady at work said that he's not going to want to go back to the vet. The first time he goes he gets his nuts cut off the second time he gets his leg cut off. He's going to think "I'm not going back there! I'm running out of things to have cut off, here!"
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Shael got a clean bill of health yesterday. No more ear infection. We were so happy. We were in and out by 4:15. Thirty five minutes and we were gone. That's something that just doesn't happen very often. One of Shael's spelling words this week is "antibiotic". Not only does she have to spell it but she has to know it's meaning. I think she's got this one covered. On the other hand "iconography" is going to have to be looked up. Even I don't know the definition of that one. I'm not sure if I could pass 6th grade these days without taking some refresher courses first.
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My sister in law and I are going to go to a city wide garage sale Saturday. Does that sound like fun or what? She has to be done early to take my Grandma down to the beauty shop to get her hair done and I told Shael I'd take her to Joplin to get her Easter dress. She's been wanting to go to Kohl's so bad she can hardly stand it. This will finally be her chance.
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I'm off to get ready for work. My little baby that left came back this week so I'll have my same four back for a while, until they all move up to the toddlers soon. It's nice having her back, I really missed her while she was gone.
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Before I leave, I want to mention this class I had to stay over for Tuesday night. If we were to grade it, I would have given it a B. For BORING! Jeez! It was over lead poisoning. By the end of it, I was wondering about some of my relatives. Maybe that's their problem. Lead poisoning. I won't name any names. But, if they are reading this, I think they know who I'm thinking of here. LOL

Happy Hump Day

No dry humping, please.

I am off to get the dog this morning. Hopefully my check won't make it back to the bank before my deposit is made. If it does, oh, well, I guess.

When the direct deposit started I put it where 90% was deposited in my checking account and 10% was deposited into my savings account in Miami. Where I never go during banking hours anymore so maybe it'll have time to add up. With all the taking off early I've been doing lately, I've not had an 80 hour pay period in a while. Between funerals, vet visits and doctor visits for Shael, I have had around 75 hours.

I'm suppose to be at the vet by 8:00 this morning. That'll give me time to take him home and be at work by 9:00. I hope. Then this afternoon Shael goes back to the doctor so I'll have to take off early again. Her appointment isn't until 3:40 so I won't have to take off work until about 2:45. That's 2-1/4 hours early. Hopefully that ear infection is gone and I won't have to take her back again.

Mike had supper waiting on me last night. Grilled burgers. They were about 2 inches thick and then he piled bacon on top of it (because all Wilkinson men think everything tastes better with bacon) then to add to the height, he added lettuce and tomato. That was a huge burger. About half way through mine, I started picking the toppings off because I was getting full. I ate the bacon off first, then the lettuce, peeled the tomato off the bottom of the bun where it was so smashed on that it left grooves in the bread, then finally I ate the bread. By then I was stuffed and I had half a hamburger patty left on my plate. His cooking habits remind me of his foreplay habits. If a light touch feels good then a heavy touch must feel better. If a regular size burger tastes good, then a huge monster burger must taste better. Not necessarily the case in either situation. But the man cooked two nights in a row. Kudos, Mikey! When I asked him what he was going to cook tonight he told me "probably nothing". Here it is Wednesday and I haven't cooked since Friday. Saturday we had a late lunch in Joplin then pie and coffee at the Java & Jazz thing, Sunday, I just didn't cook because no one but me was home. I ate a bowl of cottage cheese and peaches. Monday and Tuesday good ole boy Mikey cooked. Back to the grind, I guess.

I don't even know if I'll get anything cooked tonight since I'll be getting home later than usual because of the doctor appointment being so late in the day. I usually only have a little over an hour to prepare, cook and eat supper on Wednesday nights anyway because I leave for church at 6:30. The good thing about an appointment that late is that they usually rush around to see you and get you out of there so they can leave by 5:00. Sometimes I wonder what the heck they are doing back there. Visiting? Playing poker? How long does it take to fill a prescription anyway? Just like the old Tootsie Pop commercial. The world may never know.

I Would Like To Thank All The Stupid People

For without the stupid people, there would be no burn ban back on. Life would be so boring without the stupid people. I read on the Internet last night (and it must be true because everything on the Internet is true!) that all of Oklahoma except for the counties in the south east are back on burn ban. Because people thought that since the burn ban was lifted they could burn again. Even in high winds. C'mon, people! Use some common sense. When the wind is blowing through like a tornado, don't be burning. But, that burn ban was lifted and people were itching to burn stuff. Wind or no wind. The good thing about this current burn ban is that charcoal grilling is exempt. We can still grill outside. Good, because we did, anyway. Don't turn me in, okay? We is part of the stupid people, I guess. But we don't grill if it's windy outside, even when there isn't a burn ban. And we stay with it.

Mike cooked supper last night. Heavenly days, is it true? You ask yourself? Yes, it's true. He cooked up those onions. He kind of ruined them for me, though, by putting his own Wilkinson spin on them and poured bacon grease over the top of them when they were finished cooking. I don't know how many times I have to tell him that I do not like eggs cooked with bacon grease or even touching bacon grease. The only thing bacon grease is good for in my opinion is making gravy. I ate them anyway and they were kind of good, but not really. They didn't taste like what I wanted, so it was a real let down. I had my mouth set on eggs and onions and I didn't get it. And he made this huge mess and didn't clean it up. I was in the kitchen scrubbing off the bacon grease and the eggs that got slopped out onto the stove top. I think the man uses every utensil and bowl in the house when he cooks. Tonight he's grilling burgers. I think I'll make a mess of eggs and onions this morning before I leave and all that'll have to be done to them tonight is heat them up. Leave them with strong instructions that no bacon grease is to come nigh them. I tried to let him know without hurting his feelings and without seeming ungrateful that he actually cooked. I said "cooking them in bacon grease kind of takes away the flavor of the onions" and he said "Oh, I didn't cook them in bacon grease. I just poured it over the top of them when they were done" Oy. Talk about sacrilegious.

Shael was sick yesterday and ended up staying at my Mom's all day. Mom said she slept almost all day. Then when she got home last night, she stayed curled up on the couch complaining of being cold when it was 72 degrees in the house. She was sacked out by 7:30 and this morning woke up on her own by 6:15. I'm debating on sending her to school or leaving her home. She has a doctor appointment tomorrow at 3:40 and I don't know if I should wait till then or try to get her in earlier. She says she feels much better so we might just wait. And she might just go to school. I thought maybe it was her ear making her sick again. But if she feels better today, it might have been a bug.

The dog still isn't home. I called yesterday and the vet was out working cattle so the lady said she'd have him call me at work when he got in. He never called. It's all the same to me because I don't have the money to pay him right now anyway. The closer it gets to Thursday evening, the better for me. My check gets deposited into my account at midnight Thursday night and if I were to write him a check before then it would be hot. Since I haven't been overdrawn since before Christmas, I really don't want to do it again.

I just dropped the news on Shael that she's going to school. Noooo!!! You would think I told her she was going to Military School or something. Sheese. I can't wait for school to be out, I'm so sick of hearing her whine about it. Although, she has this week to bring her grades up or I'm going to be forced to enroll her in summer school. That will be lovely. She's already brought them up quite a bit. On her report card before Spring Break she's brought her math up 40 points. She still needs to bring it up at least another 10 points to pass, but I think she can do it. All she needs is a little motivation and summer school might be the ticket. I didn't know a child could make a 10 without a teacher letting a parent know before 5 week grade cards were sent out. Her teacher has my email address and never even gave me a heads up telling me how badly Shael was doing. Just wham! I got a report card in the mail and Shael's math grade was a 10. Yes, out of 100. When her regular report card got sent home she'd brought it up to a 50. Technically still an F, I was very proud of her for bringing it up so far. I know that she must have worked hard to get that far. If she doesn't have all her grades up to passing D's then summer school is unavoidable. I really wish that she was a student that didn't have to work so hard to make good grades. You know how some students don't even hardly crack a book yet they still make A's and B's? Then there are those students who work their butts off and still only make C's. That's Shael. Only she's not working her butt off so she's making F's. She really struggles and it wrips my heart out seeing it. She's a smart kid, I know there's got to be a different learning style in there that no one is touching. If only someone would tap into that learning style it would make her life so much easier. And mine. She needs complete and utter silence, no distractions and lots of encouragement that she can do it. Do you think she gets that in public school? Yeah, I wish.

She's been tested for ADD and she doesn't have that problem. The doctor told me I could put her on ADD meds to maybe help her concentration but that was out of the question. If she didn't have ADD why in the world would I want to put her on meds for that? I've seen what those meds do to hyper kids, what would it do to my child? She'd be a zombie for sure. I couldn't bare to watch that. The doctor did say she suffers from acute anxiety. You better believe it, she does. So much so that it caused her to have health problems back in the 4th grade. All those tests they ran only made her more anxious. And now, in the last weeks of 6th grade, she's all worried about passing 6th grade. If she would only work on it all year instead of waiting till the last few weeks! Oh, but me and Mike know nothing. We is stupid remember?

I've got to go light a fire under Shael. I told her specifically to take a quick shower so there would be enough hot water for my shower. What does she do? She fills her tub up to the very tip top to take a nice lingering bath. Something I tried to get her to do last night but she wouldn't do it because she wanted to watch something on TV. Something she fell asleep during anyway. We need to leave in, oh, about 20 minutes and I'm still in my house coat not having taken a shower myself yet. And now there's no hot water because it's all in Shael's tub. Does the kid deliberately do stuff to annoy me?

It Don't Take Much To Amuse Me

How is it that Saturday and Sunday fly by but Monday and Tuesday take forever to creep on by? That is, unless Monday is a holiday like Memorial Day, then it flies by real quick, too.

Mike and I spent the day Saturday just messing around Joplin. Before Joplin, though, we started out the day tramping through the woods at my parents' house looking for wild onions. About ten years ago there were tons of them in this certain spot. We got there, turned that last corner and nothing. Not a wild onion in sight. We ended up finding a few here and there down by the creek, but not enough to keep. Sycamore Creek ended up receiving the few we'd picked. I did have a wonderful time walking around in the woods, watching the creek flow, even if it is running lower than it should be at this time of year. It felt so good to walk there again. To feel the soft earth give way beneath each step and knowing that it was years of trees falling, rotting away and making fresh dirt for the new trees to grow. Years ago, when I was about Shael's age, my Dad let loggers in on the land to take out a certain type of tree. They weren't allowed to take anything but that one type of tree. They came in and made such a huge mess that my Dad regretted that decision immediately. My brother and I had a tree house started in this one big tree and the loggers came in a ripped down all that we had done so far and cut the tree down. I was mad then. There use to be a road that my Dad had carved out to wandered down to the creek and the loggers left such huge branches lying in it that it was never used again. They knocked down this one tree and left it. I guess it wasn't the type that they could take. I'm thinking he told them they could have the oak trees, not sure. Anyway, where I was going with that before the rabbit trail took over, that huge tree that the loggers left right in the road, it was completely gone. Rotted away where you couldn't even see where it was. (Diva remember that time you did something at my house and we went down there and destroyed the evidence? I'd forgotten about that till just now) I felt good there. I closed my eyes and just breathed it in I don't know how many times. The smells, they haven't changed since I was a little kid. The sounds are all the same, too. Birds cackling, squirrels nagging when you disturb their holiness, the creek bubbling by. But a lot of silence, too. You can even ignore the cars and trucks going by on the highway and over the bridge if you want to bad enough. And if you cross under the bridge and get deep in the woods on the other side, you can't even hear the highway traffic. It was that silence that I needed. Even though Mike was there with me, I felt like I was at last left alone with some peace.

From that peace filled event, we went to Joplin and to Academy Sports to find Mike a new sleeping bag. He found one, and a few other things while he was at it. I got me some new shoes. Yes, sadly, I succumbed to the trend, not because it was the trend, but because my feet, legs, and back have been hurting for a couple weeks now. Pain is always a good motivator to do something you wouldn't normally do. I bought some Crocs. The ugliest shoes in mankind's history. I was wearing my boots and my feet were really starting to hurt so I took them off in the car and put my ugly shoes on. I felt so conspicuous the rest of the day, like people were staring at my feet. But hey, I was comfortable.

After all that shopping, we were hungry so Mike took me to one of his most favorite places to eat in Joplin. A little place called Stogey's Coney Island over on 7th. It use to be a Pizza Hut and it sits right next to the day old store. I had me a hamburger that brought me back to the days of the Pepsi snack shack at Green Corn. N...you would have loved it. Grilled bun and everything. They even offered chili pie, though I doubt they would serve it in a Frito bag. And of course, after we ate we had to go to the day old store. Naturally. Mike tanked up on junk food since I never buy it and I got myself some raisin swirl bread and some wheat germ.

While we were eating lunch, my Mom calls me and tells me that she's taking Shael with her to Vinita to Emily and Luke's Java and Jazz that their show choir is putting on. I'd forgotten all about it. My sister told me about it Tuesday night, I think it was, while we were chatting and once that chat box closed, I never thought of it again. I'd wanted to go. Mike and I talked it over and I called her back and told her that we'd meet her there.

From there we went to the car wash. Very cool car wash, I might add. I'm telling you, it don't take much to amuse me! This car wash offers a free vacuum with each purchase. These vacuums could suck the ugly right off of Janet Reno. While Mike did the drivers side, I was working on the passenger side. We got in the back seat of the Suburban, put the back seat down and started working on the third row seat. Then, Mike goes "I gotta go. I gotta go. Oh. I mean it, I gotta go NOW!" and he jumps out the back of the 'burb, hangs his vacuum hose up real quick and it getting in and driving off and I'm still struggling to get my vacuum hose back on the rack. I jumped in as he was backing up to drive off. Then he was saying "Where can I go? Where can I go?!" getting all panicky and stuff. Target was right across the street so I told him to go over there. Their bathrooms are right by the front door, too. An added bonus. He gets to the front door, sort of, people were milling about and wouldn't get out of his way fast enough, but he jumps out of the Suburban (after putting it in park, thank God!) and tells me just as serious as could be "Keep your phone on and with you, I might need you to go buy me a new pair of pants" The whole time from the car wash to Target I was trying my hardest not to laugh, but I couldn't help it, a few snickers escaped and my shoulders were shaking. When he said that, though, I had to laugh. He left the Suburban just parked right in the middle of the road, so I got out, and drove it off to a parking space kind of between Target and Michael's. I shopped around in there for a long time before he called me wanting to know where I was. He'd made it. Thank God, that would have been so embarrassing to take a pair of clean jeans to the men's bathroom and knock on the door, "Here ya go, babe" and what would we have done with the messy ones? They are too expensive to throw away like we use to do with Shael's panties when she had a serious blow out when she was potty training. Gosh, can't take him anywhere, can I? Must've been that Junk Yard Dawg from Stogey's. A foot long with sour kraut is never a good thing in my opinion.

After that fiasco, we went to Mike's other favorite place to go...Best Buy. Mom and Daddy gave him this gift card for Christmas that had an ungodly amount on it and he is still using it. Buying a cd here and a cd there. He walked in and stopped in front of the cd's and drew a complete blank at what it was he came in there for. He couldn't remember the name of the band to save his life! He looked through all the cd's methodically, wouldn't allow me to speak even. When I'd try he'd "sshh!" and hold up his hand. I finally started walking around looking at cd's like I knew what I was looking for, singing along with the music they were playing (Big Dog was there..oooohh) I overheard one salesman mention watching something on PBS so I looked up so see what he looked like. Yep, he looked like a PBS watcher. Cute in that nerdy way that I like. Cute nerdy guy finally got to Mike's area and asked Mike if he was finding everything alright. Mike told him no, he was looking for a band but he couldn't remember the name. The guy asked if he knew the name of the album or even the name of a song and Mike kind of laughed and said "No, but I remember one line of one song and if I could sing I would sing it for you" then he proceeds to say the one line of the one song. Cute nerdy guy ponders for a blink of an eye and says "Well, there's blah blah (and he rattles off some hard rock band I'd heard of but can't think of their name right now)" and Mike goes "No, not them" and then Cute Nerdy Guy ponders it for a couple more blinks then says "Or there's System Of A Down" and Mike finishes his sentence with him "....A Down! Yeah! That's them!" Cute Nerdy Guy takes him right to where he wants to go, even though he couldn't find the box set Mike said he was looking for. He found both cd's that were in the box set and Mike got them both. Cute Nerdy Guys knows his music if he could figure out what Mike wanted by just one line in one song.

By then it was 5:30 and the Java and Jazz started at 7:00 so we left Joplin and took the turnpike to Vinita. We got to the school by 6:30, plenty of time to find a good seat and visit before things got started. I felt very underdressed in a pair of jeans, a sloppy Hard Rock San Antonio T-shirt with a hooded chambary shirt and those butt ugly shoes. I saw lots of other people in jeans and t's so I didn't feel too bad when I started looking around. My own brother in law had on a pair of jeans and a chambary shirt, so I really felt better when I saw that. The evening consisted of drinking coffee, eating pie and watching the high school show choir perform. They were very good. Emily looked like she really enjoyed herself the whole time. She danced and sang and smiled the whole time. Luke, on the other hand, had me laughing into my hand. The boy was stifling yawns! He was yawning during a performance! I think he was pretty nervous, too. But, they both did an excellent job. *I'd like to take this opportunity to say....I taught them everything they know*

After that was over we went over to my sister's house and took a gander at her new carpet and tile. Man, it's OH SO PRETTY! (I couldn't resist putting it that way) It really is very pretty and snaps are deserved for my sister for that tile and mosaic. While we were over there my Dad told me of a good place to pick wild onions. I knew what I was going to do after church the next day.

Yes, after church, and after a lingering lunch at Pizza Hut with two ladies from church and my Mother, I went and picked some wild onions. They were a pain! The earth did not want to give them up. Normally, they come right up without a hassle. But, I guess because it's not rained much, the ground was still kind of dry and I would snap the tops right off and leave the bulb in the ground. I know that for every onion I picked, there were 20 tops that snapped off. Talk about frustration! I had taken a brown paper grocery bag, the big kind, and filled it about half way. I wanted a whole bag, but I ran out of time. Once again, I was truly left alone in the woods. When I walked out of those woods, covered with stick tights on my grubby sweats, hands filthy with dirt, fingernails looking like a car mechanic's, I felt more like myself than I'd felt in a long time. I had to go in and pay for gas at the Turtle Stop and I was sure hoping I wouldn't see any old boyfriends or something like that. I at least didn't wear the sweats with a big hole in the crotch. No, I reserve those for at home.

Picking wild onions is only half the trouble. When you get home with them you have to clean them. I cleaned for about half an hour until it was time to leave again for church. Shael had gone with my brother and his family after church, so I knew I had to go so I could pick her up. I cleaned myself up and went to church. We got home right at 9:00 and Shael went straight to bed and I went straight to cleaning onions. I went and got Mike and he helped me for about 20 minutes then he went back to bed. Wussie. I was up to 10:30 cleaning those onions. The least Mike can do is cook them for me tonight. He's going to bring home the bacon and eggs tonight so I hope he gets started as soon as he gets home. Eggs and onions. A family tradition. My favorite Indian dish since I can remember. I will no longer look at them the same, though. From now on, when I hear of someone giving someone some onions, I will know that it's their way of saying to them "I love you" without saying the words. Because saying the words? That wouldn't be the "Indian way" now would it?

Emily's Pic

So, my niece, Emily thinks I need to get an updated picture, does she? She says she needs to give me a new one? Well, I should think so, since the last one given to me by them was 4 years ago! My Mom has all these really neat pictures of my sisters kids on her mantel and the last pictures I have of the kids were taken at Wal-Mart and Emily was 13.
Hint, hint.

Can You Feel The Love

I kiss Mike on the lips and say Bye. I kiss Shael on the lips and say Bye. I tell them both to have a good day. And off they go. Then Shael comes back and grabs something off the table. Then Mike comes back in and gets his phone that he left on the love seat. But, finally, they are off. To leave me in some peace and quiet. Wednesday and Thursday of this week I took Shael to school myself, which means leaving the house earlier than normal. I've been having to do the laundry in the evenings instead of the mornings and that throws my whole day off. Nothing serious, but I feel like I'm missing a beat. Remember in Pretty In Pink where Iona tells Andie this story of this woman she knows who has everything she ever wanted, house, husband, kids, and one day she feels like something is missing. She checks her purse, counts her kids and suddenly it occurs to her what's missing. Nothing. Nothing is missing. She attributes it to skipping the prom.

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No weekend has ever been looked forward to more than this one. Enough of the dramatics, already. I need some rest. Or some fun. Either one, I'm game. Shael's science fair is history, that's good. No more rushing around for that.

The dog is still at the vet, I have to call this afternoon to see if he's going to be able to come home tonight. I'm thinking he probably won't. When I took him back in Wednesday, the vet said that his leg either hadn't healed up at all or had rebroken and would now never heal up. The vet said that at a certain point, bones will not fuse no matter how much time is given them. Rosco had passed that point. So, as much as I hated to do it, I told the vet to amputate. That really was the only option. I really wish I would have known at the beginning that it wouldn't heal because it would have been way cheaper just to have them amputate to begin with. I never did tell Mike how much either time cost. I just don't want to get into that fight. I've been paying for it out of my own check, he's not had to pay one red cent. He asks me and I won't tell him. Wednesday night I told him I was going to be like the Army: Don't ask Don't tell.

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I had to go into the "nasty zone", Shael's bedroom and bathroom to gather up dirty clothes for the laundry this morning. When I was a kid, all five of us shared one bathroom. My Mom nagged us three kids to within an inch of our lives about certain bathroom etiquettes. #1. ALWAYS hang the hand towel back on the rack straight. Not wadded up. Not on the side of the sink. If you did it wrong, she would holler at you to come look at something and you'd find her standing in the bathroom staring at the offending towel not in it's designated place. And it had to be on the rack even, too. #2. Boys/Men had to put the seat down after they peed. She trained my brother to do this when she potty trained him, so this really wasn't ever a problem in our house. When I came along, the girls outnumbered the boys. I never experienced the seat being left up until I joined the Wilkinson clan. I've had to retrain my hubby, but, I did an excellent job. (Actually, I think it was the 6 months we had to live with my parents when we first got married that did it, because he hangs that hand towel up straighter than I do, sometimes. I think he might even get his level out sometimes. And he Never leaves the seat up on the toilet) #3. After getting out of the shower, always slide the shower curtain closed, never leave the tub exposed. This, for some reason, has escaped Mike's ability, so every morning when I get up I close the shower curtain. #4. Always hang your wet bath towel over the shower curtain rod. And reuse it the next day or two. Mike does do this, I must confess. He never leaves wet towels on the floor. But, he refuses to use a towel more than once. What I do to make up for this is use his towel every morning when I take my shower. At least the towels get used twice before they get washed. #5. Always replace the empty toilet paper roll with a new one. Once again, Mike is very learned in this. He does a fine job of replacing the empty roll with a new one.

Okay, now on to the "nasty zone". I have failed in my resposiblities to teach Shael these five bathroom etiquettes. She has her own bathroom so I don't notice it as much as I would if it were in my own bathroom. Hand towel? What hand towel? I'll hang one in there and five minutes later it's gone. Either on the floor in the bathroom, or on the floor in her bedroom, or sometimes even on the floor in the hallway. Either way, it's always on the floor. I don't have to worry about the toilet seat being put down, it's the flushing that doesn't get done in her bathroom. Gross! And closing the shower curtain? Shoot, I shouldn't have even bothered hanging a shower curtain up. She takes mostly baths anyway. It's usually found wadded up on one side or the other and the only time it gets closed it when I clean the bathroom and close it. And wet towels hanging on the shower rod never gets done in Shael's bathroom. I find wet towels behind her bathroom door, behind her bedroom door, in her bedroom on the floor, in her bedroom on her bed (Dr. Seuss talking here) in the kitchen in front of the sink, in the kitchen in front of the washing machine (preferred) and sometimes even in the floor of the living room, the floor of my bedroom or even on my bed. The toilet paper roll issue. She won't even keep it on the roll to hang up, she wants it sitting on her sink. Why? I've no idea. To make sure it gets wet when she plays in the water, I guess. Or to accidentally brush it off into her unflushed toilet, maybe? I don't know. But sometimes I wonder if she even wipes because she doesn't go through toilet paper very fast.

I have failed, haven't I? I will try harder in the future to teach her some things. Some basics like, don't bring 20 books and 15 videos into the bathroom. You can't possibly read that many books at once and you don't even have a TV or a VCR in there so why bring the videos?

One of the days I took her to school this week, I knocked on her door to tell her something and she came to the door without her glasses on and looked at me with those big blue-grey eyes surrounded by the long curly black lashes and said "What?" It nearly took my breath away. Why, she's beautiful! At that moment, the big globs of blue toothpaste in her sink and the trashy bathroom and bedroom didn't matter a bit. They were utterly forgotten. This was my daughter, created from mine and Mike's bodies, standing in front of me, fairly an inch taller than me, looking as fresh as the morning with that splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Freckles that some guy is going to want to bathe with kisses in a few years. He better be worthy, is all I can say.

Git Yer Grubby Paws Off

My man. He has this big long list of people, mostly women, that he chats with on Yahoo! Messenger. I've never really cared for this idea. His "chat hoes" is what I've always called them. He wouldn't like it a bit if I had a full host of men I chatted with. He doesn't chat as often as he use to, it use to be a regular thing, every night. I would say "What do you talk about with these women you don't even know?" I have a very small group of people on my friends list and most of them are people I know. My sister, Mike's cousin, a couple friends from high school, that sort of thing. But not Mike, I think he has two people on his list that he actually knows, both men. The rest are women (so they say) that he's never met.

Last night (I am going somewhere with this) I was trying to cook supper, help Shael with her science fair project and Mike kept pestering me to come look at these pictures that one of his chat hoes sent him. She sends him stuff every day. She obviously has some kind of high speed internet because she sends him stuff that takes so long to download! Every email has an attachment and even though I told him to be careful, he looks at most of them. One thing she sent him last night was pretty good, I thought, so I asked him to send it on to me. He doesn't know how to forward so when he got up to check the fire, I forwarded it on to myself without cleaning it up first. When I went to bed last night, he was still in here at the computer so I never got a chance to check my email. This morning I get on here, check my email and notice in that particular message that the chat ho had sent that message to several people and the first on her list was someone she'd dubbed "big sweetie". Then I saw the email address behind it. It was my husband's. The hackles were raised. That's my man. Yes, he's a big sweetie, but he's my big sweetie. I'll freely admit, I'm a jealous wife. Mike's no G.Q., but over the years there have been women who flirt with him with me standing right there beside him. I don't like that. The worst part is that he flirts right back. He's a huge flirt. I usually don't mind this because he reserves this for the old ladies and the little girls. No, he doesn't have some age fetish, sicko. He's just sweet that way and likes to make the old ladies smile and the little girls giggle. It's nothing sexual. He doesn't get off on it or anything. But when it's the women between 20 and 50 that blatantly come on to him, that I don't like. Mike tries to make light of it by saying it's usually the crack whores that come on to him, but that's not true. Yes, believe it or not, I've seen average women, fairly attractive women, come on to my husband right in front of me. Thank God I didn't marry some pretty boy that make all the girls' heads turn or I would be in a state of tizzy all the time. I might have to go to work with him and yell at all the rubber neckers "Hey, he's taken! By ME!"

Interview With My Sister

man, i am ever the graceful person

methinksgreen: i had to pee real bad (drinking tea) and i thought i could run to the bathroom, pee, wash my hands and run back to the computer before you could notice any time lapse

Roni : I just figured you had been logged off or you were chatting w/someone else for a minute

methinksgreen: well, my plan was foiled by the laundry basket shael put across the door of my bedroom

Roni : lol, did you meet up w/the floor?

methinksgreen: i jumped over the basket fine

methinksgreen: but when i landed, my right foot slid on the carpet

methinksgreen: and then i met up with the floor

Roni : I'm laughing out loud right now

Roni : I can get a really good mental picture

methinksgreen: i kind of let out a yelp and shael climbed out of the tub to come see what my problem was. dripping water all over my bedroom floor in the process

methinksgreen: i got a little rug burn on my knee

methinksgreen: when i came back into the living room and told mike what happened, he shook his head and said "When will you learn? You aren't nimble!"

Roni : lol, that's kind of an odd word for Mike to use

methinksgreen: yeah, he's full of surprises tonight. when he started singing along with the song "we've only just begun" i couldn't believe he knew the words to it!

Roni : but haven't you ever heard that everyone knows the words to Carpenter songs

Roni : even rockers

methinksgreen: lol

methinksgreen: I don't even know the words

With Everything but Yule Brynner

I'm watching this Biography on Anna Leonowens on A&E. Very interesting. She was a very traveled woman and had lots of stories to tell, the most famous being eventually made into "The King and I". She was raised in India at the height of British reign, lived in Siam (modern day Thailand) at the height of that kingdom, lived in post Civil War America, lived in Canada during the beginning of social reform for women, traveled to Russia before the Revolution. What a life!

"I want adventure in the great wide somewhere!

I want it more than I can tell.

But for once it might be grand

To have someone understand

I want so much more than they've got planned"

Different movie, but same sentiment.

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I made Shael go to bed early last night. I tried for 8:00 but it was more around 8:15 to 8:30 before she actually got in bed. I had to threaten with the switch before she headed off to bed. "Why are you staring at me? Quit looking at meee!" Well, if I take my eyes off her she just dallies around instead of doing what she's suppose to do. Which is take her medicine and GO TO BED.

After I finally got her off to bed, I did the same. Mike was watching UFC so I stuffed the cotton in my ears and nodded off in no time. I don't know how many times I woke up last night, several, but I finally ended up getting out of bed at 5:30, wishing I could sleep another couple hours. What is my problem, anyway? This cold wet weather is playing havoc on my bones. Ouch. I feel like such an old fart when I feel weather in my bones.

But the pain in my legs and my back are worth it to have rain come to this part of the land once again. I am willing to forgo my own comfort to get that burn ban out of here. After rain all day for two days I'm starting to see some green grass on the side of the road. Finally.

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I almost forgot to wash my scrubs. It's after 7:00 so I'd better get going. Have a good Tuesday.

Back To The Groove

Shael has to go back to school today. She's not wanting to, but oh, well. She's still in bed sleeping. I told her that I'd take her in to school this morning so she wouldn't have to get up so early. She was a super grouch. Instead of taking a nap yesterday, she went outside and played with her friend and neighborhood tomboy, Lacey (inaptly named for she is anything but lacey).
Last night at church Shael had to get up and tell what her favorite parts of Aquire The Fire were. She was so embarrassed, her face got completely flushed and she had tears in her eyes. But, she did a fantastic job speaking in front of a crowd. She didn't hesitate once with her speech, she didn't say "um" once and she only said "like" two or three times instead of every other word like some of the other kids did. Wow, where did she learn to speak so well? I was very proud of her. Mike went with us and she was upset about that, for some reason having to speak in front of her Dad felt like added pressure. She didn't get very cleaned up before leaving for church so when we got there Mike discovered mud splattered on her face and she smelled like the puppy Lacey brought over.
Mike goes to church with me so rarely, that there are people that go there now that probably didn't even know I was married. I know I saw surprise on one woman's face when Mike came in and sat down between me and Shael. He sat and held baby Nikolas for a while, until Nikolas started yanking on the hair of his chinny-chin-chin. I had to laugh at that.
I've got to get around a little early this morning since I'm taking Shael in to school, so no Twilight Zone for me this morning. I'm pushing it by being on line right now. I hope I have some hot water left for a shower after doing three loads of laundry this morning. Mike took his shower last night so I was able to start laundry a little early this morning. 5:35 instead of 5:50. I woke up this morning at 4:00 and felt wide awake, I should have gotten up and at least started a load of laundry, even if I did go back to bed. Mike and I both took THREE HOUR naps yesterday. I don't know about Mike, he can sleep anytime, anywhere, no matter what, but I don't usually sleep that well at night after taking a nap any longer than 30 minutes during the day. Mike can sleep off and on all day, then go to bed at night and sleep all night. It took me a while to get to sleep last night, but I finally drifted off, but felt wide awake at 4:00. Instead of getting up, though, I stayed in bed and went back to sleep. By 5:30 I was groggy again and didn't want to get up. Go figure.

Revenge Is Mine - Beware: Crude Humor Ahead

How sweet it is to take revenge in such a subtle way that no one puts the two and two together.

scenario One:

Mike is always bombing me with his nasty farts or lingering dumps and the cherry on top was the other night when he left the entire cleaning of the Suburban up to me. Dog poo is now my specialty. But I had such sweet revenge the other night. We'd gone out to eat at the Casino and I got pork tenderloin with this very garlicy sauce. By the time I got home I was feeling kind of weird. Like it wasn't digesting well. I normally take the chalky stuff when I feel this way, but I was out, so I did what I normally do when I'm out of the chalky stuff. I make my own chalky stuff. Baking soda mixed with luke warm water helps me feel better every time. So I drank some (about 6 ounces of the stuff) and went off to get ready to go to bed. Mike was sitting up watching TV and I was in the bathroom getting rid of the Dr. Pepper I'd had at the Casino. I grabbed up a cotton ball for my ears so I wouldn't have to get up later for it. While I was in there this huuuge rip roaring belch came out of the depths of my stomach. The smell was enough to make me consider turning on the exhaust fan. But, instead, with a smirk on my face, I went to bed, hoping I'd have another one of those in there. I got in bed, sat up to read a bit, mainly to make sure all the gas had every chance it needed to escape, and waited. Mike was still sitting up watching TV when it hit me again. BEEELLLLLLCH. "Woo!" I said, "That stinks" and I looked over at Mike and he was waving his arms franticly trying to get the smell to disperse, all the while he had his chin tucked down to his chest and his shirt up over his nose.

Ha! In Mike's own words; That's some funny Sh*t.

scenario Two:

About a month ago, my boss thought it would be a hoot to smear his big greasy melon all over my freshly cleaned window. I had just washed it and hung up these really cute St. Patrick's Day window clings and he comes in and messes it all up. Valerie and I are in the room and he and Linda are out in the hallway while he's smearing the window to the hallway up. I look at him and say "I just washed that! I had to stand on a chair to get the top clean" and so what does he do? He raises his arms up and smears his greasy fingerprints all the way up to the very tip top of the window. Nice. I look at Valerie and said something to the effect of how I'll think of a way to get him back. He must've read my lips (I'd said it real quiet) because he said "Don't even think about trying to get revenge because nobody can win the revenge game with me. I will always get them back. I will always get the last laugh." With that he walked off, laughing like he was King of the World. I looked at Valerie and said "He doesn't know how creative I can be in getting even" Right then and there, I started plotting. I did a couple small things right away to make him think that was all I could come up with. I got on his computer and changed some setting. I changed the speed of his mouse and gave it a shadow. I changed his screen saver from some stupid geometric design to a stupid scrolling marquis that read "Hi Keith!". I turned the volume up as loud as it would go. He never said a word to me about it. I let it lie. He finally changed the screen saver to read "Sooners" (He's a big OU fan) and I considered going back in and typing the word "Suck" behind Sooners, but I didn't want to mess with it. Besides, I don't really want to make him mad, just tease him a little. But my real plot involved his son, 11 months old, and a baby food jar of prunes. Oh, yeah. You know where this is heading, don't you? Wednesday, I commenced with Operation Prunes. Now, under normal circumstances, I would not involve a poor defenseless baby. But desperate times call for desp.....nah, just kidding. The real reason I do not feel guilty is the fact that this baby is always constipated. (Ah, I have breached the constipation boundaries in blog land. Dooce would be so proud) They feed him formula with iron. When he does manage to squeeze some out, they look like rabbit turds. Hard, round and black. And he works so hard to get those little things out. The first time I saw him go, I thought the poor child was going to have a stroke. His face was red, then these even more red, almost purple, spots started popping out on his forehead until they finally met together as one big huge circle above his eyes. He'd push so hard spit bubbles would form at his lips then burst and run down his chin. Frankly, it scared me. Is this what he goes through every time he poops, I wondered? How traumatic! Enter the prunes. Wednesday he finally got them. He only ate half a jar, but then he ate some apple sauce, too. If I'd been thinking, I'd have given him some apple juice, too, because it makes him fart like a pack mule. Just kidding, I didn't want to give him a belly ache, I wanted to loosen him up a bit. It worked just like I had hoped for. He left early that day to take his sick daughter to the doctor. He went straight from the day care to the doctor's office. The next day, this is the story he regaled us with..."I get to the doctor's office and I'm sitting there waiting, the boy in the stroller, the girl on my lap not feeling well, when I smell something. I look around and finally trace the smell to the boy. I picked him up to go change him and the smell about knocked me down. There was poop everywhere. It was all over him, his clothes, his shoes, the stroller. I had to go clean him up and when we left the doctor's office, I went straight to the car wash and sprayed the stroller down. It was so nasty. I thought to myself that he must've been cleaned out good after that, but, later that evening, he did it again. He was crawling by and we smelled it. My wife picked him up and it was coming out of his pants at the top. Smelled up the whole house." Well, of course we were all laughing and later Valerie and I went to my room, shut the door and practically collapsed on the floor laughing.

Operation Prunes was a smashing success.

Who's laughing now?

Queen Of The Castle

Mike left at 7:00 this morning for a gun show in Springfield, MO with my Dad and my Dad's old fart crony, Pat. Shael is gone for the entire day so here I am, alone once again. What to do, what to do. The laundry is pretty much done, I could do a couple loads, I suppose, like sheets and towels and delicates. The dishwasher needs to be ran and the counter tops straightened out. The trash needs hauled off and the kitchen floor swept and mopped. I made Shael clean the living room and vacuum the floor on Wednesday but she was kind enough to trash it all up again Thursday night while she was packing for her one night away from home.

She was so excited, she wanted to take the suitcase for an over night trip. I saw all these teenagers getting out of their parents' vehicles with these little bity ole backpacks and nothing else and Shael gets out with this big leather suitcase that has seen better days. It's not like it was crammed full of stuff either, just clothes for the next day, a night gown and her toiletries. At her age, toiletries include shampoo, toothpaste, toothbrush, hairbrush and deodorant. I reckon in another year she'll be into the whole make up thing. I thought she was going to start there for a while, but it didn't last more'n a week. If I could only teach her the subtle difference between tasteful and Mimi.

So, I think I'll spend a couple hours on house work so I can devote the rest of my day to sewing. I let Shael pick out the pattern for this year's Green Corn dress. It's actually a very pretty dress that I could dress up with some soft gauzy fabric, but I'm looking forward to making her "Indian dress" as she likes to call it. I'm finally getting a head start, not like usual when on the first day of Green Corn, I'm rushing around to get the finishing touches done in time to make it to the naming ceremony before I miss anything. Last year I actually missed seeing my two nieces get named and I was so freaking HACKED at myself. I hadn't even hemmed my dress I was in such a hurry to get there. The one time they start on time and not Indian time and I missed the sole reason for me even going.

This year I'm even going to attempt to make my brother and nephew ribbon shirts. They'll be getting their names this year. I need to wait a little bit on Nikolas because I don't know what size he'll be wearing by then. He's so cute, but he's a super chunk and his size 12 month clothes are getting pretty snug. He's seven months old now, that hardly seems possible. Last year at Green Corn, my sister in law was miserable pregnant and actually had him during Green Corn week. I was there when he was born and I took pictures and showed everybody that night at the visitors night dance. Everybody was all "OH! She had him!" and excited for them. If she'd had him a day sooner she could have brought him to Green Corn to show him off.

Our family hasn't had a Green Corn baby in soon to be 33 years. Me. Back then, Green Corn week was determined by the full moon, not like today where out of convenience it's always the first full week of August. My parents were camping, my Mom was feeling poorly and the Aunts were insisting she go to the hospital but my Mom didn't' want to, this wasn't her first baby and she thought she knew what she was doing. Finally Tuesday she went in to the hospital and wada ya know? She had me. My Mom's little sister was in high school and was sleeping out in the car when my Grandpa came out and told her it was a girl. "Another girl, huh?" she said and went back to sleep. How loving of her. By Thursday my Mom was back at Green Corn, new born baby girl in her arms. I like to think that I was passed around from Aunt to Aunt and maybe even a few Uncles scattered here and there. I like to imagine that my Grandma got to hold me a while and looked at me trying to decipher who I looked like. No one has ever told me, all they would say, year after year was, "How old are you, Stace? Boy, I remember when you were born. Right during Green Corn. Your Mama had you during the week and brought you to your first Green Corn when you were just a couple days old" (Now, I imagine we'll be doing the same for baby Nikolas). A year later, I celebrated my first birthday during Green Corn and my Mom, ever the woman to try out new things in the kitchen, decided to try her hand at baking a cake in the camp fire like they'd learned to do at Girl Scout camp when she'd gone with my sister that summer. There's pictures of this pitiful looking chocolate birthday cake with single candle sticking out of it, sitting on a picnic table. There's no pictures of me eating it, chocolate icing smeared across my face like the typical one year old. No, Mom says it was the worst cake ever made in the history of cakes being made. She said it tasted like the camp fire ash. Everybody tried to be polite and pick at their piece of cake until she took a bite and nearly gagged. Then she went around gathering up everybody's plates laughing at how terrible it was. Then watched in horror as my Uncle Jeff demolished his piece and asked for a second. She still laughs to this day when she thinks about that awful cake and how he not only ate one piece but two.

Now I'm getting excited about Green Corn. Five months to go.

Yabba Dabba Doo!

It's finally Friday. I walked in to work, Shael in tow, and found out that I wasn't needed. I hung around for almost an hour, just in case, then left. I never even clocked in. Shael and I went to the store, got some groceries, got some patterns and fabric while were at it, and still had enough time to swing by McDonald's for her some lunch before she had to be at the church by 12:30. I got out and talked with one of the sponsors going, and Shael came up to me, hugged me, said "Bye!" and shooed me away with her hands. My baby's growing up!

I came home thinking maybe I would get some house work done. Yeah, like that is going to happen. I should do like Hillbilly Mom and lean over the kitchen sink and eat a cinnamon donut until that feeling goes away.

New Link

I finally took a few minutes to put a link on the side. I think about it every now and then, but that's as far as I get. I'm sure you were all getting sick of seeing only "Google Me" or whatever it says over there. Well, now I have a link. One and only one. But, it's a start, right? I looked at Aquire The Fire and found that one of Shael's most favorite bands, KJ-52 is going to be there. She's going to be so stoked so see him again.

This picture is over a year old, but it's one of my favorites of Emily.

Almost Here

The weekend that is. This has been a very long week. Shael was home only one night before she took off to my parents to spend the night. She has to come home tonight so she can get packed and everything ready for Aquire The Fire. She leaves the church at 12:30 tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to take her to work with me and take her on in to town from there so I don't have to drive all the way back home to pick her up. She's excited about that. She's excited about ATF (no not alcohol, tobacco, and firearms) also, but she's a little nervous this being her first time. Her first trip anywhere with the youth. She's been to church camp with the kids the past three years, but this is the first time she's gone with the youth where there's older kids involved. Our youth group is small enough that they combine 6th grade through 12th grade. I hope she has a great time and gets to know the older kids a little and they get to know her in return. Some of them she's known her whole life, the ones who've been raised in that church like she has, but several of them just started coming to the youth program on Wednesday nights and I don't even know them. They only come on Wednesday nights. Shael can be so shy that her youth pastor made sure that the sponsors that are going pay special attention to her and make sure she gets involved and try to include her in everything so she doesn't feel left out. Wasn't that sweet? They'll be in Santiago, Chile, yet they still thought enough of my daughter to make sure she's included and not forgotten.

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Tomorrow will mark 17 years for my first niece, Emily. 17! Why, I remember so clearly when she was born. Like it was yesterday. I remember I had just climbed in bed and was almost asleep when Mom came up stairs and into my room (something she RARELY did, she usually just hollered up the stairs if she wanted me) and told me that my sister was in labor and going to the hospital and asked if I wanted to go. What a stupid question, I thought, of course I wanted to go. I remember we got to the hospital and waited and waited and waited. I remember sleeping in the dark chapel overnight and the next morning she still wasn't born. I remember my teeth feeling so gross because I hadn't thought ahead and brought a toothbrush. I remember being glad I'd worn my green sweatshirt I'd made in home-ec because it was officially St. Patrick's Day. I remember the nurse coming out to the waiting area telling us that the baby was crowning but had been for a while and my sister was having a hard time but was not in any danger. Then shortly after that, the double doors flew open and the nurse said "It's a girl! You can see her now for just a minute before we wheel them to a room" and we all crowded in, my Mom and Dad, Kelly's Mom and Dad, me and my brother, and looked at that tiny dark head peeking out of that tight papoose and my sister was literally shaking like a leaf in the wind. "It's a girl!" she stammered out of trembling lips. I don't even remember where Kelly was at this time, although I'm sure he was there! Ha! We hung around for a little bit longer, then we got to go to the back and look through the glass at baby Emily. The nurses asked how old I was before they let me through because at the time no one under 12 could come back there. Under 12?! I was insulted! I was 15. Then there she was. She wasn't the only dark headed baby there, not in that Indian hospital. But she was the only baby there with her eyes open wide, as if to say, I'm here, you can all relax now.
So, I hope you have a wonderful birthday tomorrow, girl.

How Nice

I got home early today, I took off work around 2:00. When I got home I knocked on the front door to see if Shael would answer it. She did. When she opened up that door I asked "What the heck are you doing answering the door when you're home alone?"
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I used Mike's neti pot when I got home. Oh, was that an experience. Later I went outside to let the dog roam around and every time I bent down water would just pour out my nose. Poor dog, he was looking up at me and my nose was draining water all over his head and he was batting his eyes at me. It was like he was standing in the rain looking up.
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To pay for the dog's vet bill, I had to forgo a few things. Like groceries. I'm not kidding here. I had about a week's worth of food but this week we are really stretching it. When we say we have nothing to eat in this house, it usually means that we can make it another week without buying any food. But now, I'm down to defrosting the deer steaks when Shael is home, something I normally save for when she's gone. We ate deer meat when she was gone, too. There is absolutely no beef, pork, or chicken in this house. Thank goodness pay day is just around the corner, officially it's Friday, but it will be put in my account Thursday night. The first thing I'm going to do after making out my tithe check is to fill up my car. I'm tired of getting a little bit at a time to hold me over. I put in $10 then keep checking my account on line to make sure I didn't make myself overdrawn. I knew I had some charges that I didn't write down so I wanted to keep a close eye on it. So, now I have it down to $3 and some odd cents in my account. This lady at work mentioned the other day that she gets worried if her checking account gets below a thousand dollars. I about flipped! A thousand?! Another lady said she gets all worried if hers gets under a hundred. What? I get worried if mine gets under, well, zero. Wow, a thousand.

We Are Family

Part of my feeling adrift I will attribute to the fact that I haven't had a daughter in five days. She's home now and I feel better already. Who knew? With all the recent deaths around here, I want to keep those I love close to be able to remind them of how I feel. I don't want Mike or Shael walking out the door to leave without me telling them that I love them. Something that is so un-Howard. I don't want my daughter to grow up thinking she knows her Mom loves her because of all I do and have done for her, but not because I tell her all the time. I'm going to tell her and do things for her.
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Mike is going on his annual turkey hunting trip in three weeks. He usually takes off on Thursday night and is gone until Sunday night. Misses only one day of work. He's talking about sending his stuff down with my Dad then riding his bike down. He's not completely decided on this yet, there's usually loads of rain during the turkey hunt and he's not to keen on the idea of riding his bike in a deluge. If he leaves the bike home and takes the Suburban, he's going to be hovering over me until I get that thing cleaned out. The dog crapped in it on the way home from he vet and I tried to clean it out. But, when I got home it was nearly dark and it was dark by the time I was scrubbing the carpet in the back. I couldn't see much with the dome light being the only light. I thought I got it cleaned out until Mike drove it two days later. Oops. He told me when he opened up the door to get in he wanted to throw up. He went around back and opened those doors and it looked like all I had done was smear the crap around and ground it into the carpet. Yuck. I may have to borrow a shampooer. Not looking forward to that.
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When I got up this morning, every single light in the living room was on. The ceiling fan light, the floor lamp, the computer table lamp, the kitchen light, the dining area light and even the back porch light. Oh, and don't forget the TV was on, playing the Disney Channel. I was kind of surprised the entry way light, the hall light, her bathroom and her bedroom lights weren't on. Shael was sacked out on the love seat, flat on her back, mouth wide open, glasses on her face. I guess that allergy medicine (children's claritin) really does sack her out. Her third round of antibiotics and she has to take 4 teaspoons a day for 10 days. And the Claritin once a day. I think I might like that Claritin. I'll give it to her around 8:00 and then I know she'll be in bed on time.
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Shael's going on her very first Aquire The Fire trip this weekend. She is stoked! Her youth pastors had something unavoidable come up so they aren't even going to get to go. Shael was disappointed, as were her youth leaders, but I think she will be okay. I know she's going to have a real good time. Two of the sponsors going are good friend of mine, they've been over to our house a lot and we theirs, we've gone on trips together, in fact, she was with me when I went to Honduras. So, I know Shael's in good hands. It's only for one night. Any of you who don't know what Aquire the Fire is, look it up. I'm sure they have a web site. I'll have to check it out, too. Ron Luce, the guy who does the Teen Mania trips. Oh, my goodness, if Shael were to go on a Teen Mania trip when she's older, I think I might be beside myself. I would certainly let her go, but I would be a train wreck with the thought of not seeing her for a month or more. Oy!
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I've got the hiccups and it's driving me batty! What is it with me and hiccups? I can't just have them once either. If I have them in the morning, I can count on having them at least once in the afternoon and again in the evening. Sometimes they can downright hurt.
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When Mike got home last night, that eye was all yucky and puffy again. He said "Hey, look at this" and he pulled his lower lid down and I literally had to turn away in disgust! It was full of puss. He went to the bathroom and got a Q-tip and rubbed it across the inner lower lid and tons of puss came out. It finally quit coming out and it left a big white knot like a huge white head. On the inside of his eye lid! Gross! He said all the way home every time he would blink there would be a film over his eye. This morning I told him that he'd better get back in the doctor today. He said if he had time, he wasn't sure what was going to be going on. I was indignant, I told him it didn't matter what was going on, his eye was more important than any job site. That doctor said if the swelling came back, got worse, or didn't even go away in the first place, to come back immediately because it could affect the nerves in his eye.

Another gross thing Mike did last night was ask me to watch him use his neti pot. He wasn't sure if the water was coming out of his other nostril or coming out of the pot. Oh, no, it was coming out of his nostril. Ever watch anybody use one of those? It's not pretty. It looks like a Jeannie bottle. You put lukewarm water and saline solution in it, then stick the spout up one side of your nose, lean your head over the sink and then turn your head sideways. Pour away. The luke warm water goes in one nostril, through your sinus cavity, then out the other nostril. If it works correctly. Mike's been so congested, that it hasn't been working right, it's been going to his ear, or down his throat. Gag. After finishing one side, you make another pot and repeat through the other nostril. It's perfect for people with allergies because it gets all the allergens out of the sinus cavities before they have time to create an infection or even thicken up your mucus to congest you. Perfect for people with post nasal drip. I'm going to get my own and use it so I don't turn into my mother with her constant post nasal drip throat clearing that she's not even aware of but the rest of us are. Every time I clear my throat, I can hear my Mother. Every. Time.
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Enough. I haven't been able to watch my Twilight Zone this morning with Shael asleep on the love seat with Disney Channel as her back ground noise. I know if I were to change it she'd wake up and say "water you doin'?"

Ever Feel Like You're Forgetting Something?

That's how I'm feeling. Am I suppose to be doing something, going somewhere? Am I free to come home and fix supper, eat it, then hang around the house a bit before heading off to bed? Or do I have a prior engagement that I've forgotten? I can't seem to place it.
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This week is going to be slow. Maybe that's why I'm feeling adrift. One of my four babies is not going to be coming anymore (I'll miss that little squirt), one is in Hawaii for Spring Break (her Mom is a teacher at the local college) and one's Mom is a college student so she's on Spring Break, also. That leaves me one baby and he only comes on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Yesterday, all the bigger kids went bowling and that left my one baby the only child in the whole building the entire morning. And three workers. I don't know what I'm going to do today and Thursday. Work on these little scrap books I'm making for my babies, I guess.

*Side note to Diva. Don't worry, I haven't totally converted. While technically, I'm making scrap books, I'm only using construction paper and glue that may or may not be acid free. And some of my pictures are Polaroids. Yes, they still make those.*

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My days are starting to blend into each other. I get up somewhere between 5:30 and 6:00. I lay Mike's clothes out for him and wait until the shower stops. When I hear the water turn off, I start the washing machine to wash my scrubs and the rest of yesterday's colored clothes. When that load is in the dryer, I start the washer again and wash some other load, like jeans, towels, white clothes. Whatever. I just try to wash at least two loads every morning. If I get that second load in the washer by 6:40, I will have enough hot water by the time I need to get into the shower myself. I eat breakfast somewhere around 6:30 while either reading or watching the History Channel. At 7:00 I move the channel up one notch and watch two episodes of The Twilight Zone. It amazes me how I can watch it every morning, and even watch the occasional marathon, and still not the see the same episode twice very often. Around 8:00 I hop in the shower and wash as fast as I can then pray or have my own private praise and worship service until I run out of hot water. I love to sing in the shower, I sound so good. Since I don't have to labor over what to wear, I don't wear any make up save for foundation to work in and since I got my hair cut, I don't even brush it, it takes mere minutes to get ready after I get out of the shower. I leave the house around 8:45. I'm at work by 8:55. I start my day off at work by turning on the radio to NPR, listen to Performance Today until lunch time at 11:00, eat lunch, feed the babies lunch, listen to the opera they always play around 11:00 while I'm eating. Next thing I know, the babies are all going home and I clean up then go home myself at 5:00. I get home around 5:10 and usually I immediately start supper or else I won't want to start until 8:00. Fix it, eat it, watch TV or read, or like a lot of times, do both at the same time, talk to Mike, when school is going on help Shael with homework, then haggle with Shael about getting in the tub and in bed on time. (She knows she has to wash her hair every other night yet every single night she asks "Do I have to wash my hair?" which I always reply with "Did you wash it last night?" and according to her answer I give her mine) Then go to bed myself. The next morning, get up and do it all over again. On Thursday nights I go to my sister in laws for an hour long Bible study. Wednesday nights I go to church. Sunday mornings and Sunday nights I go to church. Why do I feel like I'm forgetting something?
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Shael went back to the doctor yesterday and found out that she still has the ear infection. They gave her more antibiotics and some kind of allergy medicine to help dry it up. She goes back in two weeks. It's been going on longer than a month now. They wanted to give her a shot but she wouldn't let them. If I'd been with her she would have gotten the shot. But my mother in law was with her and she caved and didn't make her get it. If it's not cleared up by her next appointment I'm going to ask them about tubes in her ears. I know she's not too old for them because I remember a boy in my high school got them. That infection and fluid must get out of there before it does some damage to her hearing. I had a lingering ear infection last year and I know it did damage to my ears. In fact, I wouldn't mind having tubes put in my ears either because I still to this day can feel and hear the fluid in there.
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I can see that the second episode of The Twilight Zone is almost over so I'd better get myself ready for that long shower. Hope you all have a non redundant day. I'm ready for a vacation. I still want to go to Silver Dollar City.

raaaaiiiinnnnn!

Let's hear it for the rain. Yay, rain!

Yesterday I really wanted to work in my flower bed down at the end of my driveway, but the rain was too cold to work out in it. Believe me, I tried. I lasted about 30 seconds. That poor pitiful looking flower bed, it still has dead stalks from last years flowers in it and about a foot of dead leaves. At least I won't have any weeds to yank out because the leaves have been so thick, that nothing except my bulbs have grown. The tulips are trying to grow through the leaves. Hmm, got ta fix that.

Mike has been sick with a sever sinus infection for a couple weeks. He finally went to the doctor and they gave him some antibiotics. It did help the swelling go down, the whole side of his face and both eyes are back to normal now, but he still can't breath. When he sleeps he sounds like Darth Vader. I woke up this morning and stayed in bed listening to him breath for the longest time. I had the urge to say "The Force is strong with this one" He said something about going back to the doctor tomorrow, so we'll see.

I'm off to the flower bed. While it's not raining. If it starts raining while I'm out there, I'll be disappointed, but not too much since we need the rain so much. Yes, rain already!

Snowman after. 

Snowman before. 

And this is why he's a drowned rat. That is a big puddle of water that when you step in it, your foot sinks down at least a couple inches in mud. The vet said his splint MUST stay dry. And this is what I watched him drag that splint straight through tonight. That's one of Shael's golf clubs pointing to the water. She uses them to whack at rocks instead of golf balls. Hey, ya gotta improvise, right? 

Here's the splint from the side. He didn't want me taking his picture and I had to stand on his rope to keep him from taking off. He does NOT like being tied up but the vet said we had to keep him "contained" for 2 weeks. 

My poor little drowned rat, Rosco. See his splint? Poor baby! 

Fabulous

The ladies retreat at the church was a smashing success. Mom sold lots of clothes. Hopefully, this will be the last time we ever have to load up those clothes.

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There's something so wonderful about getting a phone call out of the blue clear sky from a friend you haven't heard from in a long time. Thanks for calling, girlfriend. I hope we can get together soon and I can see that good boob job in person. lol

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I feel like I'm at a loss for words. Now how often does that happen?

Time To Make The Donuts

I'm in a little better spirits this morning. My mother called me first thing yesterday and just set the tone for my whole day. All day yesterday I kept thinking "I want to go to..." and I'd think of different destinations. And let me tell you, I really did want to go. Right then. I could imagine myself going home and packing, then taking off without a moments hesitation or any real planning. But, duty won out. I didn't head off to South Padre Island, the Florida Keys, or even to Silver Dollar City. I worked till 5:00, then went to Mother's and worked for her until 10:40. I crawled in bed a little after 11:00 dog tired. Standing and working on that concrete floor was enough to make my legs ache.

But her asking me to help her was not the entire reason why I was so unhappy. She started in on me about Shael's grades and her grade card. Because Shael hadn't shown me her report card she proceeded to tell me how horrible it must be for Shael to hide it from me. "You've got to do something Stacie! I wish you'd get a hold of that tutor before it's too late!" Then she, the cherry on top was when she told me that Shania got all straight A's and Sarah had only one B and the rest were A's. I quickly hung up before I could lose my temper at her. How dare she compare my child to my brother's. How dare she assume that we aren't doing anything to help her. How dare she! I was livid. And of course, as always, when I'm mad, all I do is bawl my eyes out. I walked into the living room, threw myself down on the love seat and burying my head in the big lighthouse pillow (given to me by HER, which made it ironic to me at the time) and cried and cried. When I finally got up I got in the shower and cried and cried in there, too. Until the hot water was almost gone. I finally got a hold of myself and went to work. I don't know why I let her get to me.

The up side to this story is, when I finally got Shael's report card last night, it really wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. Only two F's. And those F's were very close to D's. As shocking as that may sound to some, it's a vast improvement to what they were a few weeks ago. My mother and yes, even my dad, say an F is an F. Well, yes, technically, that's true. But, I'm looking at percentage here and I see improvement. If she can improve that much in just a few weeks, then I see hope. Light at the end of the tunnel. They just see F. Her English grade has come up from an F to a D. It saddens me to know that I'm glad to see D's on her report cards. Passing. Barely, but passing. I've told her that she has two weeks to bring all her grades up or I'm going to enroll her in summer school, which means no church camp. I really hate to take that away from her, but I have to draw the line.

So, that's my day in a nutshell. Tonight is the ladies retreat at the church. I'm working late for Val so she can make it to her kids' first soccer game (their teams are playing each other...lol) so I won't be getting off work until 6:00 or after. Church starts at 7:00. I'm going to have to hustle to get their on time. I'm sure I won't make it exactly on time, but hopefully I won't be too late. Unless I went in my scrubs. Not too crazy about that idea.

I'd better go so I can get ready for work. Maybe I'll have a better day today. Oh, at least mother bought our supper last night. She doesn't even know that she hacked me off. Typical.

I'm Positive

I'm positive I want to live five states away from my mother right now.
I'm positive that I'm tired of the way she can cut me to the bone.
I'm positive that she thinks she's only giving her imput.
I'm positive that I'm so hurt right now that I don't want to see her face.
I'm positive that I want this day to be over with and soon.

I almost forgot

Three posts in one day, whoa. (Who says Whoa? Joey Lawrence, right?)

I forgot to mention in earlier posts an update on my dog. Yes, he did have a broken leg. No, he hadn't been hit by a car. Or caught in a hog trap. He'd been shot. You read right. SHOT. Someone shot my dog and shattered his leg bone. Nice. If only I knew which neighbor it was, I'd be sure and have the shotgun ready the next time I saw their pet in my yard because at one time or another, they all mosey on through here. I'm talking ALL of them. From Beagles, to Labs. Great Danes to cats of every color. So, I had to take him to the vet, leave him there for four nights, and pay out the wazoo when I picked him up last night. He also got his nuts cut while he was there. Now he's hopping around on three legs while his splinted fourth leg just drags around behind him like it's not even part of him. The vet said he thinks it will heal up just fine because he's so young. We're having to keep him tied up so he doesn't go wandering off. He doesn't care much for that, but he's not complained too much. By way of protest, he left a nice HUGE package for Mike right in the walk way to Mike's company truck.

On the way home from the vet last night, he howled the whole way, crapped in the Suburban then tried to get to me and Shael in the front seat, getting crap all over the third row seat and the middle seat in the process. I was so disgusted with him when I opened the rear doors of the Suburban only to find that he had almost completely missed the blanket I had spread out in the back. Crapped right on the carpet. Then stepped in it and smeared it in real good. Then tracked it all over. Oh, the things we do for our pets. Yuck.

I'm Alright, Don't Nobody Worry 'Bout Me

I'm watching Caddyshack on Spike TV. I was shocked to see that it was from 1980. I can remember going to the Miami drive in and watching it. I was seven. Hearing my Dad laugh and not thinking it was funny at all. I did think the gopher was cute, though. But now, I think it's funny. And the gopher is still cute. And Kenny Loggins? He still rocks.

Beth Moore at the Airport

I'm feeling lazy today and don't have a lot of time to post, so I'm going to post an email my sister sent me. Let me warn you, it made me cry.

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At the Airport in Knoxville
Waiting to board the plane: I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing. I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord.
I say that because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you.
You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego.
I tried to keep from staring but he was such a strange sight. Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier. His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones. The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy gray hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back.

His fingernails were long. Clean, but strangely out of place on an old man.
I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face.

As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting.
Then, I remembered that he was dead. So this man in the airport...an impersonator maybe?
Was a camera on us somewhere?...
There I sat trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him. Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.
I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall. I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen. And it may be embarrassing. I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind.
"Oh no, God please no." I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, "Don't make me witness to this man. Not right here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!"...
There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane."
Then I heard it..."I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair."
The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No brainer.

I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm on this Lord. I'm you're girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am on him. I am going to witness to this man."
Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair."
I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hairbrush. It's in my suitcase on the plane, How am I supposed to brush his hair without a hairbrush?"...
God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: "I will thoroughly furnish you unto all good works." (2 Tim 3:17) I tumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself. Even as I retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies.
I knelt down in front of the man, and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"
He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?"
"May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair? To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that. At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?"
At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks. Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If you really want to."
Are you kidding? OF course I didn't want to. But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush."
"I have one in my bag," he responded. I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair. It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many things well, but I must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls.
Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull. A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's hair. Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me. I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair.
I know this sounds so strange but I've never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart, I – for that few minutes - felt a portion of the very love of God. That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while. The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God's.
His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's. I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?"
He said, "Yes, I do." Well, that figures, I thought. He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior." He said, "You see, the problem is, I haven' t seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too
ill to come see me. I was sitting here thinking to myself, what a mess I must be for my bride."
Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it. Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft.
I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that? What made you do that?"
I said, "Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!" And we got to share. I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted because you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need!
I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way... all because I didn't want people to think I was strange. God didn't send me to that old man. He sent that old man to me.
John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."
by Beth Moore

Lent

Even though we aren't Catholic, many from my church observe Lent each year. I've fasted many different things over the last few years, but this year we, as a church, are doing something we've never done before. Our pastor has asked us all to fast from all negative thinking and speaking. This, my friends, may be the hardest thing in the world to refrain from. Case in point, today when a certain mother came to pick up her daughter, she was dressed in an "ensemble" that I would not have chosen for her, or anybody over the age of 20. I said "Hoo, my, look at that g.... Oops! That wasn't very positive. Forgive me, Lord"

This is going to be interesting. I've been doing a lot of griping about Mike lately and that's gotta stop. I should anyway, not just because of Lent. This is also the month of Purim. So I must strive to become more pure. Lord, please help me. (I am not being sarcastic at all, that is 100% honest prayer there)

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Today was my nephew's first day at the Day Care. It went well, I think. It's going to take time for Valerie to get use to her newest charge. The kid is loaded with potential, but needs lots of work fulfilling it. He was put in time out only twice that I'm aware of.

One of the things we talked about over the weekend was the three different types of children. The average child, the somewhat difficult child, and the very difficult child. I don't think that is the exact wording, but you catch my drift. The average child has few "episodes", they rarely occur and usually happen when the child gets stressed. The somewhat difficult child has several "episodes", they happen more often than the average child's but not too often, and they are usually caused by stress, also. The very difficult child has lots of "episodes", they occur all the time and they can be brought on by stress or for no apparent reason at all. This third child is my nephew. For no reason he will just lose it. One of the times he was in time out today was for hitting another child. When asked why he hit her he replied "Because she was talking to me". Yep. I'm hoping that with less children surrounding him throughout the day, his episodes will tone down. He's in counseling, his Mom and his Dad and my brother, who is the step Dad in this, are all doing all they know how at this time to help the poor child. It's amazing how traumatized a life can be in just four short years. But he's going to be alright. We won't let him be any other way.

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Was that positive?

Burn Ban Shmurn Ban

No, actually, I was aware of the burn ban, but wasn't thinking about grilling being considered burning. I thought it was no burning of dead leaves and no burning off your fields before you plow them under like a lot of farmers do around here. But, with my perfected art of eavesdropping, I overheard someone at church talking about not being able to grill because of the burn ban. Oops, my bad! Ya'll will be glad to know that our house is still standing, the ground around our house and our grill remains unburned. The only thing burnt around here apparently was Mike's two burgers.

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I had a nice night away from home. We ate at Taco Cabana Friday night, which was just as I was hoping for. I love that place. The workshop was really good. Back when spanking started being the "wrong" way to discipline children and time out was being incorporated in schools and child care centers, I thought it was a bunch of hooey. I won't apologize, time out does not teach children a thing! The only thing I think it does provide is a time for parents or care givers to calm down themselves without the child right there in their face. But, now, "experts" are saying that time out is not the answer. Now, it's "inclusion". Ho, boy, just spank the kid already, is what I want to say. I wonder if in another 20 years, spanking might come back around in style. People who claim that spanking is only teaching a child violence, has never seen spanking done properly, or seen it's results on a grown adult.

But, enough with that, I did hear a wonderful statement. "Punishment is the consequences of never being disciplined" I learned a few things, got encouraged in a few areas where I felt like I've been doing well and had an overall good time. And I got 6 hours!

I also bought a book that I thought might help my family with my nephew. I told my sister in law that I wanted to read it first, then she could have it. It was about how to deal with children who have behavior problems due to ADD/ADHD, Bipolar, Autism, and several other areas. My brother and his wife are having a hard time dealing with her son and have really tried all they know how to do. He starts at the Day Care tomorrow after being expelled from his pre school. My friend, Val, is going to be his teacher and I asked her if she thought she could handle him. I told her any time she needed help not to hesitate to come get me. I think he will be much better at a smaller institution where he will get lots of individual attention. He is one smart cookie, he knows how to manipulate unlike any other 4 year old child I have ever seen. So, we'll see how that turns out. I must admit I'm somewhat nervous. I want him so much to succeed. I feel like the pre school should not have given up on him, yet I can see their side of the story with being at a loss of what else they could do for him. I just hate that he didn't make the final nine weeks. He made it 3/4 of the way through and they kick him out. What a waste. But, we'll take good care of him. I feel like what he needs now is some TLC and lots of one on one attention. I know that won't solve all his problems, heavens, no! I only wish that's all it took, but how could it hurt any? We'll see.

While I'm on the subject of the day care. This child, whom I'll call David (not his real name, is that better hillbilly Mom? I don't want Fitty coming after me, either!) started having this odor coming from him about 3 weeks ago, maybe longer than that, I'm not sure. But the week before last it was so bad I could hardly take it. We kept the windows open when it wasn't very warm outside. The poor baby had lots of bloody noses. He's almost 3. I knew back then, and I told his teacher to tell his grandma that he had something up his nose, like a bean or something. Maybe a piece of macaroni from the sensory table? I didn't know, but I knew something foreign was up there. The Friday before last, I took off early and went on that motorcycle ride with Mike and I was telling him about it. I told him that the smell was even worse and now it smelled like a dead dog in the middle of July by about 10 feet away from him and to get closer was just asking to throw up. Then Monday came along and the poor kid STILL hadn't been taken to the doctor. Every day last week he had a bloody nose. Every Day. And it wasn't just blood, but puss. *wretch* Increase that 10 feet to 20 feet and to be near him, well, I don't even want to think about it. The other kids had been complaining for 3 weeks saying that he smelled bad and no one would play with him or want to sit by him during lunch or snack. Who could blame them? I didn't want to be near him. Going outside only made it worse because when he'd come back in his nose would be running and the smell. Oh, God, the smell. Like a hundred dead opossums on the side of the road. Finally, Friday, he wasn't at school (what we affectionately call day care) and around noon his grandma called us and let us know that she had taken him to the doctor that day. My stars and garters, it's about time. Anyway, the doctor pulled out a chunk of sponge that David had stuffed up his nose no telling how long ago. It was embedded up there and had created a severe sinus infection. A red sponge. Oh, gag. At least we knew it hadn't come from the day care. We don't have any sponges there except some yellow ones with green scratch pads on the backs of them in the kitchen where children aren't allowed to go.

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I caught a glance of myself in a big mirror in my motel room the other night. I forgot to mention that I was naked and getting ready to get into the shower. I glanced over, started to get in the shower and then my head snapped back. OMG, is that me? I don't have any mirrors in my house that go below boob level. Familiar with Humpty Dumpty, anyone? My goodness, 'nuff said.

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Bra shopping. It should not be such an ordeal, or should it? There's this store in Tulsa called The Bust Shop. I've wanted to go in there for years and yesterday I finally got the chance. They professionally fit you for a bra then bring in some for you to try on to see if you like. I went in thinking I was not going to be like my Mother and refuse to admit that my size was that big. I got in the dressing room with my blouse off and my bra on, waiting for the woman to come in to measure me. She walks in and measures under my boobs and says "Ah, it looks like a 44", which I was happy to hear, well, as happy as I can be about being a size 44, because that's the size I was currently wearing. I'd gotten something right. Then she puts that measuring tape around my boobs and says "Okay, let's see....A, B, C, D, DD, E, EE, F. You need a 44 F." I nearly fell over! I'd walked in wearing a 44C. She goes off to measure some other poor unsuspecting woman while another gal goes searching for an underwire in a 44F. A few minutes later she brings one back to me (ugly as home made sin, I might add, when I told her I wanted "pretty" bras because I was sick of old lady ugly serviceable looking bras) and it's HUGE! I looked at it for a few seconds in utter unbelief that my boobs were really that big. I held it in front of my face, I'm sure my eyes were big as saucers, even put it on top of my head because I just knew it was the same size as my favorite green hat I brought back from Honduras. Sure enough, there was enough fabric there to make a nice rain bonnet, none of my hair would get wet wearing that thing out in a down pour. Then I put it on. Oy! I did not like it. It was so high I was sure if I put my blouse back on it would have shown. The woman came back in and asked me what I thought. I told her I didn't like it and it was the most uncomfortable contraption I'd ever had on my body. Well, maybe not the most uncomfortable, but I won't go there. She tugged and pulled and made it basically feel like I had on a corset, then, to my great relief, said "I think the cup size is too big, let's try a DD" I could hear the heavenly host singing it's praises right then and there. She sent the bra fetcher on a quest for a DD and when she brought it back I tried it on, too. I didn't like it either. Then she suggested trying a soft cup, forego the underwire. Hmmm. Something I haven't tried in ions. Bra fetcher came back with 5 soft cup bras, size 44DD. I briefly thought of the cough medicine Formula 44D. Formula 44DD must be strong enough to make the person sitting next to the cougher quit coughing. Anyway, I tried on those soft cups. Not going to happen. They had these weird looking things attached down below the cup that I could think of no other name for other than sweat soppers. Gross. Finally, after waiting and waiting and waiting for the lady to come back, I had an epiphany. Why the heck was I waiting for her? I wasn't going to buy any of these bras, I didn't like them, why was I waiting to show her how much I didn't like them? So, I took off the offending bra, put my own worn out 44C, and got dressed. Oh, putting on my own bra felt like coming home and finding my best friend still there and unchanged. Maybe she wasn't as supportive as my new friends could be, but she would never make me feel uncomfortable, unless I'd used her too much in one day. She, after all, is not an 18 hour friend. I walked out of that dressing room and stopped to tell the woman "I'm sorry, but I've run out of time and patience, but thank you very much for yours" and walked out. I couldn't wait to be outside and breath fresh air.

We went straight to Woodland Hills mall and eventually, after being detained for 30 minutes by a movie preview survey type thing, found ourselves in our destination...Lane Bryant. That's right, I'm a big mamma, I'll admit it. I'm a little big mamma because I'm only 5 feet tall. Both Valerie and I tried on lots of clothes. Mostly jeans and bras. We were there a couple hours. I finally decided on a nice soft bra, underwire of course, in a very pretty blue. Guess what size I ended up getting? I tried on 6 bras there and five of which were 44DD. I finally decided that I needed to downsize even more because they were all way too big in the cup. I left there with a size 44D. Only one cup size bigger than what I was originally wearing. Hmm..imagine that. I also got me a nice pair of jeans that don't look like a whole family moved out the seat of them. I found me some fat lady petites...lol.

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Man, we just got back from picking up Shael. When we got over there I saw 5 baby goldfish in a half gallon juice bottle. I asked her if she got some new fishies and she said that they were Shael's. Given to her by a friend whose goldfish kept having babies and Shael told her we had a tank to take them. Let me tell you what kind of tank we have. A small 1/2 gallon tank with just a piece of tubing bringing air down to the water. It only supports one fish at a time and Shael thinks we can bring home 5 more? I felt bad, but we had to drive all the way to Fairland to take the fish back to their home. Mike was not happy, he suggested we set them "free" in the river on our way home, but Shael didn't want to and frankly, I didn't want to do that in front of her. She wanted those fish. But, the fish made it back to their home and the woman apologized all over herself for giving Shael fish without asking us first if it was okay. Wasn't her fault, Shael told her we had a tank. Any time we get more than one fish, they all die or all but one dies. It's just big enough to support one little gold fishy.

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Back to the old grind tomorrow. I should go to bed. It's past 9:30, goodness, what am I still doing up?