- Where do babies come from?
- What is sex? (and all related questions including anatomy)
- Who is God and why are your beliefs about Him true?
- What happens when you die?
- Why do you have to discipline me?
- Why are drugs, smoking and drinking bad for me?
- What does it mean to be gay or lesbian?
Caleb recently asked one of the Biggies: "Mom, where do babies come from?"
"Babies come from God."
"Oh. How does God get them there?"
"When the time is right for two people to have a baby He gives them one."
"How does the baby get in the mommy's tummy?"
"God puts it there."
Lily: "But how?"
"God puts it there."
"He just does."
"But Mom, HOW does He get it in there?"
"God is God and He can do anything. It's easy for him."
"How does the baby come out?"
Caleb: "The doctor cuts open your stomach and pulls it out!"
"What do they do the other times?"
"There's another way but we'll talk about it when you get older."
Today we traveled to Lily's paternal aunt's house and of course, like any other five minute or longer car ride, they start asking questions. Why they wait until we're in the car I have no idea.
"Mom, where are we going?"
"To Aunt Melissa's house."
"To Aunt Melissa's."
"Like an aunt like Taryn?"
"Um, kind of. Yeah."
While we were at Mimi's I also had the pleasure of trying to explain how Adam and Eve were made out of dust, but we are not. I also attempted to explain how the devil came to be, why God killed all the dinosaurs with a big asteroid, was it an asteroid or a volcano, were some dinosaurs nice, what heaven will be like and where the Bible came from. I still would rather tackle those questions than the approaching one, though.
Not much bah humbug-ing this year. Just when excessive Christmas music was playing. Grr.
Christmases during deployments are always a little sad, but it helps to remember this is God's plan for us and we should be thankful for the blessings He has given us. So without further ado, here's the rundown of presents we received.
- Girl Gourmet Cupcake Maker: I have been wanting to try this out since we bought it on Black Friday. The commercial claims you can actually bake a cupcake, in the microwave, in 30 seconds. NO WAY. Then you frost it with this handy frosting thing that twirls so the frosted cupcake looks all twirly and stuff. So we get it out and set it up. I mix the cupcake batter and put it into the cooker thing. AND IT WORKED!! It was actually baked! Which makes me wonder what they put in there to accomplish that...on to the frosting. I mix it up and fill the tube with this Pepto-Bismol pink gunk. Then the tip falls off and I now have this crap in my lap. Eewww. So we try again and get the frosting on there but it came out of the tube too fast so it kinda just looks like a tropical bird crapped on the cupcake.
- Easy Bake Oven: We haven't tried this one yet, but I can't wait!!
- Pixos: This is another one of those wonder-how-it-works toys. Apparently you use the special pen to place plastic balls on a tray in a design. Then you spray it with water and it stays forever. So we follow the instructions and spray away. It's been seven hours and the designs are gummy and partially stuck together. I don't think this one will be around long.
- Operation, Connect Four, Sorry! Sliders, and Rhino Rampage.
- Nerf Powerball Blaster: My favorite. You pump it up to get it to the maximum blasting power and fire foam balls at whoever happens to be passing by. It also makes this weird screaming noise when you pump it that gets louder the more you do it.
- Diego Triceratops Mountain Thing: This one is going back to Wal-Mart because it's missing a piece.
- Play Doh: I never learn my lesson.
- 100 Building Blocks: Ditto here.
- Fire Truck, G.I. Joe, telescope, binoculars, candy, candy and more candy.
- A forty billion piece jewelry making set.
- A dinosaur race track. Who thinks up of this stuff?
Now for what I got.
- Honey with Tangerine from Italy!!
- A purse from Italy!!
- Chocolate from Italy!! By the way, Italian chocolate has about ten times more fat than American chocolate.
- Stress relieving body wash, a scarf and fuzzy socks.
- Two cool T-shirts.
- A neat picture frame that says "Life... makes the best story" on it.
- Home made candy.
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE ! ! !
- Pick the present that you would like to wrap and appropriate wrapping paper.
- Roll out four feet of paper, place present towards the bottom.
- Measure paper to make sure it will still cover the present after you have cut off the access.
- Measure twice, cut once.
- Screwed up anyway, decide to still use the now too short piece of paper.
- Bring two sides of paper together over gift, ignoring for now the gap between paper.
- Look for tape.
- Leave table to find tape.
- Find tape, return to table.
- Repeat step 6.
- Tape paper to present.
- Turn sideways and contemplate how to fold paper to cover the end and still look decent.
- Make creases at corners, fold down three times and hold with both hands while you get tape with teeth. Or feet.
- Wrangle tape onto paper.
- Rip off tape, repeat steps 13-14.
- Repeat on opposite side of present.
- Cut a strip of paper from the access to cover gap on present.
- Place with tape. Hint: If you make sure the design on the paper matches up with the strip, they'll never know!
- Chase down kids to bring bows back to the table. Affix accordingly.
- Forget what the present was, tear a small hole at the corner of present and try to decipher contents.
- Place additional bow over hole in paper.
- Affix name tag.
- Follow steps one through four from above.
- On sides, cut out a square from the paper to make folding down easier.
- Realize you may have actually need what you just cut off.
- Roll ends to present and tape.
- Decide that looks like crap and undo tape.
- Origami your way to a decent looking fixture and cover mess with a bow, on both sides if need be.
- Alternative: Roll present up like a burrito and circle tape around present lengthwise.
- Affix name tape.
- Follow step one from above.
- Tape one end of paper to the object.
- Roll object across table, taping as the paper naturally comes together. May require several pieces of tape.
- Affix bows as needed.
- Don't forget the name tape.
- Crap, I don't know.
Just thought I would throw that out there.
But I still like doing it.
Thanksgiving 2008 was really cool. Let's see if I can remember everything that happened. The first gathering we attended, we went to my uncle's for a feast where we visited with many relatives. The kids also built a tee pee. It was very nice! We had all of the usual eats and then some. Our second gathering was at my aunt's place where we had killer BBQ and home made desserts. Yum! Grandpa also told more "on the farm" stories. He cracks me up. Oh, and I also saw a dead body on the side of the road. No joke. Apparently she was hit in the middle of the night by some dude "reaching for his spit cup" and we happened to pass just as the police were showing up. That was freaky. Other than that the holidays were pretty normal for this family.
I wake up at 6:55 a.m. and dread the chill of winter that creeps into the house. The kids wake up soon after, and I hustle them into clothes and infront of cereal. My coffee is brewing and I silently say good morning to my husband.
He's not here, you see.
He is in Iraq.
We are a military family.
Nothing like you see on television, thank the Lord.
We're just a normal, everyday family with a long distance father.
The kids are off to school and I drive to the post office. I'm mailing a package to my soldier. The clerk's face immediatly changes as soon as she sees the "APO,AE" on the mailing label. "Oh my goodness, how do you stand him being over there? Aren't you scared? Bless your heart!" I smile and take my change.
I don't want your pity.
I am no different than the thousands of other women who had to say goodbye to their husbands.
We chose this lifestyle, he and I.
He chose to defend our country and I chose to support him.
My online classes have closed for the semester, so my day is free. I visit the library, Wal-Mart and grocery store. Online Christmas shopping is cut short when the kids come stomping in the door, demanding a snack.
Cleaning, feeding, homework, bathing, pajamas, story time. The lights are off and my day has ended.
The nights are a little colder without my soldier beside me. Discipline in the house is a little less effective without my soldier. Dinner is filled with kid-friendly food without my soldier.
But somewhere my soldier is making a difference.
I don't hope for his return. I eagerly anticipate it.
I am not remarkable.
I am not even special.
I am just doing what millions have done since America became a country.
Loving my soldier.
As in the cats bowels emptied its contents in 0.2 seconds.
The brain is such an amazing organ, isn't it?
I wish I was talking about a tiara.
But I'm not.
I drive to the dentist's office at eight in the morning, so I'm already a little off whack. I get to the office, sit down, and after about ten minutes I get this message from my lower intestines:
I try to ride it out, but then I get the signs that I need to go NOW.
You know, the cold flashes and goosebumps.
That grab-the-handicap-rail-this-is-gonna-be-fun need to go.
By the time I'm called to the back, I've gone to the bathroom twice, and people in the waiting room are looking at me funny. I don't care. I sit in the dentist's chair (the chair of torture) and take an x-ray and I think it's going to be okay.
But it wasn't.
Back to the bathroom I go, hi ho, hi ho.
When I walk back into the room the hygienist cheerfully asks "Is everything okay?"
I wonder how long it took for her to retrieve that plastic cup from her tonsils.
Apparently not long because in a matter of minutes she has it in my mouth along with the dentist's two instruments and a "cheek pad" that doesn't really pad anything. Then they had the nerve to comment "You sure do have a small mouth. You should consider getting your wisdom teeth removed."
No, YOU should consider removing seven of your fingers. That would be an immense help.
Luckily I made it through the 1.5 hour ordeal with no accidents or interruptions. THAT didn't happen until I got into the car to drive the 30 miles home.
I kid, I kid!
Sorry, no accidents for my lovely, sick minded blog readers.
But I was praying for mercy the whole way home, and made a beeline to the bathroom as soon as I hit the front door.
Maybe I was just nervous.
Maybe I just needed a good blog subject.
Nevertheless, I return to the dentist in two weeks to get my porcelain crown.
(I asked for gold, but my insurance refused to cover it. Bummer.)
I am currently procrastinating.
I have a three thousand word analysis of a debate due on October 5th.
I have about 200 words so far.
How is your day going?
Word count up to 388.
"Throw me a freakin' BONE here!"
Woo hoo!! Word count up to 1,377!!
- Children can be enjoyable.
- It is possible to get up at 7:00 a.m. every day for a whole week.
- I don't really need that donut/cake/cereal/muffin/ice cream.
- Pilates can be fun.
- It is possible to do Pilates every day for a whole week.
- You aren't as irritable when you sleep well.
- It is possible to do your school work every day for a whole week.
- Teenage boys can mistake you for a college student at the ice cream store (ok, I needed THAT ice cream).
- The couples are given a cute three bedroom, two bath home in a green-grassed cul-de-sac that probably has little crime if any to play house in. C'mon, seriously? Try having them get their own apartment on minimum wage.
- Speaking of minimum wage, they provide them with a job that at least one of them has to work at for eight hours a day. One person working? Not outside of Kansas, Dorothy. Give them a Classifieds and the numbers to a few daycare centers. They'll both need to be working to raise their kid!
- Let them earn only $440 a week and figure out what to do when the bills start to pile up.
- They, like, fight, oh my gosh, about who has to go to work that day! Please!
- One young woman threw a fit because the producers made all the women wear maternity outfits that make them look and feel pregnant. She claimed she just "looked so ugly!" in it. Woo hoo, Dorothy. That's what happens when you get knocked up.
- One woman complained that the child they were given to "raise" cried too much. "He like, never stops crying! Oh my gosh!!" Good grief.
- Another woman didn't wipe the child when she changed his diaper, and another had to try and potty train another. "I swear, if he like poos in his underwear ONE MORE TIME, I'm gonna, like, be mad!" Gosh, one more time? Try twice a day for four years.
- "Like, you're always gone working all day and I have to sit at home and do all this mother stuff, and I like get tired too!" This is hilarious!
- The couple only get to "raise" the child for one week, then it's off to the next age group. Um, isn't this supposed to be a reality show? Give them children in the same age group for a whole month. That will determine"if they're up for parenthood."
- I didn't get to see the elderly people care-taking, but I'm sure it went something like "Oh. My. Gosh. Granny just peed herself again! Like, if John doesn't come home soon I'm gonna, like, scream and be angry! Aaahhh!"
Do you know how much a pair of water shoes costs in one of those souvenir shops? $11 freaking 50. Do you know how long it takes for a four and six year old to pick out which shell they want to buy? One freaking hour. Do you also know how many steps it takes to reach the entrance to said shop because they are by the coast and are built on stilts? Freaking 30. Ugh.
As a result of our trip I REALLY want to live in Hawaii. Awesome beaches, mild climate, hardly ever gets above 90, lots of sea life. But I don't know yet, we'll have to wait and see.
We arrive in CC at around 1 a.m. and the first thing I notice is that it is HUMID. Freaking humid. And our motel is kind of... in the ghetto? Is that the nice way to put it? It wasn't bad, I mean it had running water and all, but it kind of had this boiled egg/burned hamburger smell to it. But hey, it had clean beds and air conditioning for only $60 a night.
The next day we headed down to the beach, where gently rolling waves beckoned. Let me tell you, those gentle waves are only gentle until you wade out to the break line. Then they'll freaking take you (and your tankini bottoms) under. That's right. I can't seem to inhabit a body of water without losing part of my clothing. I was wearing my cute maternity tankini and I love it but the thing is, my bottom half is slightly smaller than my top. That means the top of my bathing suits fit but the bottoms will slip right off if I have my back to a gigantic wave that sweeps me off my feet.
After a few hours at the beach (and tracking down Lily who had wandered off), we headed inland to eat and I can honestly tell you after this trip, I never want to see another fast food restaurant again! We had take out every meal for three days!! After a recouperative night's rest we headed to the farewell ceremony at the armory. Only men would plan a ceremony in a crowded warehouse at noon in Texas during the summer. Thankfully it was a short one, and we quickly booked to the beach again. We collected beach scallops and sea doodle bugs (?), body surfed some waves and guess what? Ate at a freaking restaurant.
Sunday morning we all got up at the crack of dawn to drop James off at the armory. I call this D-Day because it was the last day we got to see him before he left for training and deployment. Now I can take the kids crying, the in-laws crying, the president crying, but for some reason when James starts to cry I get all cracked up too. So we all sat there crying in the parking lot (well, the kids didn't; I think they were still half asleep) and he had to go inside and all that. Then we headed home.
Now we're back and I'm in my usual my-husband-just-left-me-with-the-children-for-a-year funk and Caleb has regressed in his potty training and I'm THIS CLOSE to going insane. On the plus side, the kids will be starting school soon and I'm looking into some college courses to keep me busy.
Oh, and my brother and his family are leaving for freaking Italy in two weeks. Yay.
We had made plans to take the kids to the beach and take a lot of good scrap booking photos and build sandcastles and stuff, but then stinking Dolly showed up. I even found the PERFECT bathing suit for this trip, even though it is from the maternity section... who cares, right? At least in the maternity section I'm only a L, instead of the customary XXL. Woo hoo! Anyway, Dolly is supposed to bring 15 inches of rain and I'm hoping that James' unit will just tell him to wait it out and come next week. I can hope, right?
This 20 days with James has been very good. Lots of family time and eating out. When James is on active duty we tend to make more money, and when we make more money we tend to spend more money, and James decided he needed a knife.
Not just any knife.
An $85, stainless steel, grip handle, cuts through sheet metal, has a "skull crushing handle" and has a leg strap knife, because "I met this guy who had just come back from Iraq and he had one and he said it was good to have one on you just in case, you know, you get into hand-to-hand combat and have to use it, or say an IED hits your vehicle and you have to bust out a window and...."
"Okay, that's enough."
So he starts looking online for a knife. I mean staying up into the wee hours of the morning looking, not just Ebay and buy. For three days he looked, and finally settled on this particular one, I can't even remember the name of it.
"Babe look, it has blah blah blah, and blah blah, oh and look! A blah BLAH blah!!"
"That's GREAT dear."
"Can I get it? Please please please?"
So I agreed that he needed a knife and let him buy it. I mostly wanted to shut him up. Then it came to shipping.
"Hey babe, I called the company and they're based in Tennessee and said it would take four days to ship here. That means it would get here next Tuesday."
"Well, we're leaving on Thursday and what if it doesn't get here by then? I mean what if we leave and RIGHT THEN they deliver it and it has to sit on the porch for three days before you get back?"
"Seriously, you shouldn't have taken three days to decide on what knife you wanted. It will be fine."
"What about insurance?"
"Oh good grief!"
"But what if it like, falls and breaks and gets all smashed?"
"It's a freaking stainless steel KNIFE for crying out loud!! It won't get broken!"
"What if it gets... LOST?!"
--shaking my head--
"Then we call the company and ask them to send a new one."
"Or get our money back from UPS."
"Whatever. Do what you want to do."
So he orders his knife and the world starts revolving again. Later on we're lying in bed, I'm trying to go to sleep, and James pops off
"I should have gotten that insurance."
"Go sleep on the couch."
The next four days were the LONGEST four days OF MY LIFE.
Today on our way home from swimming, James turns the corner and lo and behold, there's the UPS truck sitting in front of our house.
"Oh no! Wait WAIT!!!"
He yells and floors it, not even slowing down going over the speed bump, and you can just see the UPS guy's eyes get wider as James flies towards him. By the time we get to the driveway the UPS guy has torpedoed himself inside his truck and starts to pull away and James is yelling, inside the car, "Thank you! Thanks!" and waving frantically.
The knife was fine. I don't think the kids were, though.
- Five pillows BESIDES the four on her bed, saved because "They're so comfortable and we got them for our 30th wedding anniversary and, well, I just need them." They'd been in a closet for two years.
- Seven complete sets of full size sheets saved "Just in case."
- 17 coffee cups
- Three irons
- Six bread pans
- Ten purses to complement the over 150 (seriously) articles of clothing she owns
- Over 20 pairs of shoes
- Food in the refrigerator with expiration dates from 2005
We did manage to get Granny to give up a few things. Well, a few of the multiples. Then the other day, Mimi calls and tells me that Granny bought five coffee cups at a garage sale and also went clothes shopping! Am I the only one who is screaming OVERKILL?
We arrive at the pool and of course Lily jumps in and paddles off to make friends ("Do you know what happened to me? I got stung by a wasp! And my eye swelled up REALLY BIG!!"). Caleb hasn't learned to swim yet so he walked down the steps into the water with me. The He-child I can safely say is a tad less adventurous than Lily when it comes to water. After a few minutes of trying to coax him to at least try swimming, I took him under the arms and tried to pick him up.
The kid went crazy.
I succeeded in picking him up, and he succeeded in grabbing one half of my tankini in his fist and screaming "NOOO!! I DON'T WANT TO MOMMA DON'T TAKE ME OUT THERE PLEASE! PLEASE!" Now the entire shallow area of the pool is staring at us and the only thing I can think to do is to pull Caleb close to me to cover up my almost exposed boob. He gets rigid and starts fighting and pushing me away, and all I want is for him to let go of my bathing suit.
"MOMMA STOP NOOO STOP IT LET ME GO LET ME GO!!"
"Caleb! Let go of my bathing suit and I'll let you go!"
"NOOO!! STOP PLEASE OKAY I'LL SWIM LET ME GO!!"
"Let go of my top first!"
"NOOO!! LET GO LET GO LET GO!!"
So now he's flailing around and pushing me back with both hands now conveniently on my chest. I panic and crouch down into the water to cover myself. Which was a bad idea because now Caleb starts to yell
and now I have the lifeguard's attention. All three of them. Having decided that he won't let go of his hostage (my boob) unless his demands are met, I turn back to the steps and set him down, which is probably what I should have done in the first place. He stops yelling and lets go, I rearrange my top and I hear Lily say "Yeah. He can't swim yet."
I don't think I was ever really exposed but I didn't have the nerve to ask anyone.
My desktop computer is currently on a side table that is exactly two feet tall. FYI, I am 5'6". So here I sit hunched over on one of the kids' teeny chairs tapping out this blog. My butt and thighs are numb.
I started my Tae Bo again. Fourth day straight! Woo hoo!! One pound down, 59 more to go!! I still want a Wii Fit. Maybe if I pout long enough James will but me one. Or I could wear a baggy shirt the next time I go to my cousin's house....
On a lighter note (ha ha), I believe I've mentioned before Caleb's facination with breasts. Particularly big breasts. More specifically Nana's big ones. While he has cut down on groping her and I in public ("Nana. Nana. NANA! *honk* Nana!!"), he still makes offhand comments like "Nana, I sure would like to see one of those..."
My kids are on a bug kick right now. Catching them, examining them, letting them die all alone in the bug catcher.... Today I found a jumping spider held captive in a plastic bubble (the kind you get out of crap vending machines) and mounted onto the wall with poster putty. I caught it just before it suffocated.
He and I were checking out at the store and I heard very plainly "monkey." Now, Zayden usually doesn't just pop off a random word, in fact he is very particular about what he says and when he says it. So I commence acting like an idiot saying, "Did you say monkey? Wow! Say monkey, Zayden! Say monkey again!"
What is it about little kids that have those looks that make you feel so stupid? Zayden has a very good one, and he was wearing it as I enthusiastically tried to get him to say what I KNOW I heard. But he didn't, so I gave up.
Yesterday my bunch and I saw Zayden and his staff at Wal-Mart, and we stopped and talked to them for a minute. Shortly after saying our goodbyes, my SIL called me back over and informed me that he said monkey again. That leads me to only one logical conclusion:
He knows me as Monkey.
I don't know why. My name is Talia and my nickname is Tally, neither of which sound like monkey. Personally, I would rather be called "ook" or "geek," hey even "Bom Bob." Nope. I guess I'm stuck with Monkey.
James was deployed to Egypt in 2006 for a year and well, deployments get lonely. So I did what any loving wife would do and mailed him a suitable substitute, which he brought home when he came back. For some reason, it failed to reach the trash can. In packing the other day I found it and, rather than throw it on top in the trash box, I put it on the top shelf of the closet for a more discreet disposal later. Then I took a nap.
Guess what I woke up to?
Yup. A pink vagina dangling in my face by my six year old who is asking
"MOM!! What is THIS?!"
I grabbed it, chastised them for being in my closet and hustled them downstairs. Let me assure you that NO parenting manual has a chapter on this. Later on I told James about it and we had a good laugh. That evening my darling children come traipsing upstairs right into my closet, and we hear:
"Caleb, where did you put it?"
"I can't find it!"
"Wow! A guitar!"
"Caleb! Help me look!"
"Look at this Sissy! A guitar!"
So they come out and Lily says to me, eyes sparkling:
"Mom, where did you put that thing?"
"Uh, what thing?"
"That PINK THING that was in that bag!"
Caleb: "Yeah that thingy that looks like your BODY."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"MOM. That thing we gave you that sticks to the WALL."
By now James is beet red and I'm laughing so hard I almost pee myself.
"Mom where did you put it? I want to see it!"
Caleb: "Let's stick it to the wall Sissy!"
"Lily, what did you do with it when you found it?"
"I got it, and gave it to Caleb, and then we took it out and looked at it, and we stuck it to the wall and it STUCK! and then I brought it to you. Mom, what WAS that thing?"
James: "Anyone hungry? I'm gonna get a bowl of cereal...."
"Well Lily I just found it in the closet and I threw it away."
"But MOM, we wanted to play with it!"
Caleb: "And stick it to the WALL!!"
Ugh. Pardon me, I need to go put my toy in the safe. I can hear it now:
"Look Mom, we found a SWORD!!"
The exam room had a full length mirror in it. Try as I might, it is positioned just so that you HAVE to undress in front of it. How horrifying. Interestingly enough, it is also positioned so that when your gyno is elbow deep in vagina you can see what she is doing. Kind of. From a side view. But you can still see her!!
Ugh. What's up with all that lube? That stuff NEVER comes off you know. I wonder what brand it is, because it SUCKS. I'm bringing my own next time. And why does it smell so funky? I KNOW that's not me. I smelled rosy before I got here. I have a husband you know, one I have to make excuses to because even after five years there's no way I'm offering THAT FUNK for his pleasure.
Why do they have to be so violent with your cervix when they scrape it? There are nerves down there, you know. That evil Q-tip from Hades HURTS, now stop! Why do they need two scrapings? One for the office scrapbook? Then for the mauling of the ovaries and uterus. Stop it!! My gyno told me I have a small uterus. I wish my thighs could take a hint. And why do they try and carry on a normal conversation with you while they palpate your breasts? PLEASE. Just get it over with so I can get dressed in front of your terrible mirror.
Am I the only one who hides their underwear inside the pocket of my shorts just in case my clothes get knocked to the floor?
On a side note, I'm getting an endometrial ablation done on Tuesday. That's where they fry your inner lining so that your harsh periods will stop. Sounds like fun, huh?
1. Carry spawn to bathroom and commence vomiting into toilet from foul smell and liquidity of mess.
2. Strip spawn, turn shower head to jet and hose spawn off, gagging.
3. Sidestep fecal mess to retrieve clean clothes for spawn.
4. Return to bathroom, turn shower head to "paint stripping blast" and annihilate the very bacteria from spawn's soiled clothing and bathtub.
5. Gather the following: 160 baby wipes, 2 cans of Lysol, carpet stain remover, old dishrag, warm water, 3 plastic bags and air freshener. Rubber gloves a plus.
6. Gag some more while using the previously listed items to remove and sanitize all eight fecal spots on the white carpet.
7. Decide that you've lived here more than a year and you won't get your deposit back anyway, cease trying to get stains out of carpet.
8. Tie up bags and dispose of waste. Gag.
9. Lysol everything that may have entered your peripheral vision since the explosion occurred. SATURATE WELL.
10. Place can of Lysol in a safe place and wash hands and forearms in scalding water with bleach and antibacterial soap (even if you used gloves, because you never know).
11. Using second can of Lysol, disinfect first can.
12. Spray generous amount of air freshener and put away cleaning products.
13. Call husband and inform him that his shift starts 5 minutes before he gets home tonight.
The sound of my son's stomach rumbling and the subsequent release of fecal matter onto the white carpet.
Note to self: when battling a recurrent stomach bug, DO NOT dress he-child in boxer briefs. They don't hold up well.
I'm gonna get you!!
Come back here, you panty-head butt booper!!
Get back here!
You butt face poopy head!!
I'm gonna shoot you! BAM BAM BAM!!
Oh, don't get me!!
I recently filled my prescription for my Wellbutrin XL at Walgreens and they gave me the generic, which I thought would be OK since generics are basically the same as name brand, right? WRONG. All of a sudden I was catapulted into the I-want-to-cry-after-I-eat-your-arm-for-pissing-me-off zone, and I wasn't comfortable at all. Neither was my husband. I think he was scared, actually. So then I had to call my doctor to get him to fax a request that my meds be dispensed AS WRITTEN instead of SCREW IT UP IF YOU CAN MANAGE.
"Dr. Boo Bop's office, can I help you?"
"Maybe. I dunno."
"Do you need to make an appointment?"
"No, I recently came in and had Boo Bop renew my prescription for my medicines and Walgreens gave me the generic and I need him to fix it NOW."
"Can I have your name please?"
"OK... can you describe your symptoms for me?"
--The Exorcist voice--
"They call me Legion, for we are many..."
"Oh, well let me just give this note to Boo Bop and we'll have you fixed right up in a jiffy OK?"
"That will be acceptable. Thank you."
I want to commend this woman because she got him to call very quickly (the same day, which is unheard of in doctor-ville), but my stupid insurance company pulled the "you just filled an identical prescription 10 days ago" crap and no amount of green vomit or head turning could get me a refill for 8 business days. Grrr.
Caleb is getting to the stage where he's saying really cute stuff and performing silly antics and such. Yesterday he proudly proclaimed that "I AM A WEENIE!!"