Not that going to the hospital was all bad.

I've joked (many times) that a stay in the hospital is like a mini-vacation for mom.  That was way back in the day when the only hospital stays I'd had had been for bringing more babies into this world.  The two I've had this summer have been much less fun rewarding.  Yes, there's been a comparable amount of pain, but there have been no blue eyed, fuzzy headed, tiny people to bring home with me at the end of the hospital stay.  No Dreft scented blankets and Johnson & Johnson's baby washed bundles. Having an infected organ removed is not nearly as exciting as giving birth.

And colitis really sucks.  Bad.

This past hospitalization was the longest of my medical career thus far.  I'm hoping it holds that place of honor for the rest of my life, but I'm a realist and know that there are quite possibly more stays in my future.  I'm praying it's a distant future.

But once the Toradol was freely flowing and I was no longer in danger of passing out due to dehydration, it wasn't too bad.  Well, there was the whole we're-going-to-half-starve-you thing, but even that was bearable just as long as the pain was kept at bay....and at bay it was.  I did have a rather entertaining neighbor (from here on known as Old Joe because I don't know what his name really is) when I was lounging about starving and hopped up on pain killers.

The first night, they were really concerned about my well being.  That means they woke me up every 76 seconds to make sure I wasn't dead.  OK, so maybe it was just that they checked my vitals every 2 hours, and I had to pee at least once in between each check (seriously, boluses just before bed time are not good on the deep sleeper's bladder)....but it felt like every 76 seconds.

I woke up a little after 6 am in need of the toilet, but really wanted to roll back over to sleep some more.  Old Joe had other plans.  Plans that included screaming, "NURSE!  NURSE!  NURSE!" while repeatedly hitting his call button.  (Incidentally his nurse was my cousin Rachie.)  He informed her he was claustrophobic and could not be left in a room with the door shut.  She informed him she had to shut his door because he wouldn't quit screaming and waking up the entire floor.  "It's 6:30.  They've slept long enough," he told her.  Rachie tried to explain that not everyone sleeps well in the hospital.  Apparently, Old Joe hadn't slept at all.  Luckily, I tossed my Zune in my purse before leaving for the hospital, so my noise canceling ear buds kept me from hearing him all night.

Rachie told me he'd been hollering at her all night and every time she stepped out of his door he hit his call button immediately.

That day my nurse was a young man named Blake.  Blake had brown, softly curling hair and a scruffy beard.  He may have been 22 year old, but only just.  Old Joe did not like Blake.  In fact, Old Joe very quickly dubbed Blake 'al-Qaeda' presumably because of the dark(ish) curly(ish) hair.  He called Blake 'al-Qaeda' all day long.  Very loudly.  In all reality, Blake looked about as Middle Eastern as I do...which is not very for those of you who've never seen me.

Around 8 or 9 o'clock, Old Joe really got his knickers in a twist.  "WARNING!  WARNING!  AL-QAEDA!  AL-QAEDA! WARNING!  WARNING!  AL-QAEDA! AL-QAEDA!"  He must have repeated it on and off for nearly 20 minutes at the top of his lungs. Every time Blake walked into or even past his open door, Old Joe screamed. I asked Blake if he was OK and he just laughed.  Apparently Joe threatened to beat Blake up.  Eventually the nurses told Joe if he didn't shut it, he couldn't see his doctor that day.  A totally empty threat, but it worked for a time.

When the effectiveness of the empty threat wore off (around lunch time), Old Joe started singing.  I had heard him singing a bit through the morning, but could never make out anything past a bit of melody and some mumbled lyrics.  After Blake checked on me, something changed down the hall. I discovered Old Joe has a penchant for old Spirituals/Gospel Music.  He was belting out Amen at the top of his lungs.  I'm familiar with it because Daddy was in a men's choir in college and I grew up listening to his albums.  When Old Joe started in with the Amens, I immediately called Daddy and told him I was fighting the temptation to sing back the descant of the song.  Daddy and Mama thought I should do it and then Joe and I could keep the entire floor entertained, but my nurses didn't agree.  Joe didn't need any encouragement.

Occasionally over the course of the next day or two, Joe would get in an uproar over something or he'd serenade us with random songs, but for the most part he was fairly quite.

After that the hospital was boring....but I had cable and Toradol (not sure if I've mentioned the Toradol), so I survived.  I hope Old Joe did, too.

Nurture or Nature: The Great Debate

(First of all, I must apologize for the total lack of paragraph breaks in this & the previous posts. Blogger is eating them. I promise, I do have some minor grasp of paragraph structure.) After reading my last post, my father called me to lodge an official complaint. "I refuse to take responsibility for Bitsy acting just like her mother!" So I promised to tell the real story of our trip to The Hotel. ***This was Bitsy's first stay at a hotel. She was over the moon excited about it because I mentioned the words "swimming" and "pool." Past that, she couldn't have cared less about the trip. At one point she wasn't even sure she was going to grace us with her presence. The thrill of getting to ride in H.T.'s car seat in Grammy's HHR combined with the promise of a swim was what won her over in the end. Forget the fact that we were going to visit her great-grandparents or that there was going to be a special church service honoring her great-grandpa's years of service as an elder. This trip was all about the hotel. ***Upon our return to the hotel the first night we were met at the pool by a horde of 12 year old boys in town for a national wrestling competition. If you've never been in a 30 foot by 15 foot swimming pool with 45 pre-teen boys, you haven't lived. I nearly fainted from all the testosterone in the water. But it didn't phase Bitsy. She was going to swim. And suddenly her Pa was her favorite person in the world. ***I was a bit relieved. You see, the two had spent the past 8 hours arguing over her name. About a year ago, Bitsy officially changed her name to "Bitsy Bee Coconut Middlename FarmHand." About a month ago, her Pa added to it making it "Bitsy Bee Coconut Middlename Bubblegum Applebee FarmHand." She's not too happy with his additions. I was pretty sure she was going to wash her hands of him entirely. ***At Montana Mike's Saturday night, she got rather vocal with him about what her name really is. Between her grandfather's pestering and the fact that her grilled cheese wasn't ready within seconds of us ordering, she was a bit put out. ***Sunday morning, she decided to sleep in. Not surprising after her big day of travel, arguments, elevator riding and swimming...but also not really possible since we had to be at church well before 9 am. Pa knocked on the door shortly after seven to see if we were ready for breakfast. He sat on the edge of the bed & said, "Bitsy, wake up. Do you want to go downstairs with me and get a waffle?" Bitsy promptly popped up, put on her socks, and headed to the elevator with her Pa.*** At breakfast, she got very quiet. When I asked what was wrong, she started crying and choked out, "Me miss my daddy." Poor thing. ***When we headed back up to our room, she started jabbering away. "Me was sleepin' and Pa comed in and waked me up. Me was sleepin' and me was going to dream to my daddy when Pa comed in and waked me up. Him said, 'You want to come eat breakfast?' and me was going to dream to my daddy and Pa ruined my dream!" In the car on the way to church, she chewed him out for ruining her dream. ***Church was rather trying for her. Bitsy doesn't talk to strangers. Heck, Bitsy rarely talks to people she knows. At home she's a chatter box, but in mixed company, she's silent at the grave. Now here she was, surrounded by people who'd known me since I was an infant and they all wanted to talk to Mini-FarmWife. Bitsy was having no part of it. She started holes through most of the congregation. ***At lunch with the family, Pa continually stole Bitsy's chicken leg off her plate. She had been very worried that she wouldn't get a chicken leg, and that man wouldn't leave it alone. Add to that being talked to by her aunts and uncles, and I think Bitsy was nearly at the end of her rope. ***Before the evening service, we went back to the hotel to rest a bit and get dressed. Pa told Bitsy, "I was going to dream about Grammy and you woke me up." Her head snapped around and she said, "You waked me up when me was gonna' dream to my daddy and you ruined my dream. Dat's why me waked you up and ruined your dream." She didn't notice he wasn't sleeping. ***In the car on the way back to church, Bitsy asked where we were going. When Pa told her she said, "To church again?" Yes. "Two times?" Yes. "In a row?!" It was practically torture. But in the end she was rewarded with a piece of cake at the reception afterwards and another, much less crowded, swim at the hotel. ***By Monday morning she began referring to home as "my old house," and trying to convince me she wanted to stay at the hotel forever....until someone mentioned her daddy. ***Oh, and I forgot to mention the constant back & forth she and her Pa had over money. Every time we'd get somewhere (hotel, restaurant, store) he'd turn to her and ask, "How much money do you have?" To which she'd roll her eyes and sigh before saying, "Me don't have money, Pa. You hava' pay." After all, what are Pa's for? ***So, now it's up to you to decide. Is Bitsy's new found attitude a result of genetics (my fault, me being the snarky Prima Donna I am) or of the endless pestering by her grandfather over the weekend (Pa's fault by way of irritating and aggravating her)? You may settle this debate.

The wonderful world of H.T.

For any of you who do not know, HT (or Heir to the Throne) is my four year old nephew. He is the son of my little sister, Princess & her husband Axl. He is an only child living withing shouting distance of his grandparents, who have no other grandkids near by. He is a fount of knowledge and is more dramatic than his Aunt FarmWife was at that age (and that's really saying something).

When he was little he called me "Haunch." It was his own strange mash-up of Aunt & my real first name but truly sounded like neither. All the grandkids call QM "Grammy." When H.T. says it, it comes out "Dammy"....which is actually a step up from what he used to call her. It used to just be "Dam." It got even better when he'd smash Mom and Grammy together because he called his mom "Bum"....I'll let you figure out the rest. It made for some interesting trips to the grocery for my mother.

QM & Daddy have taken to calling him U-man because of the posture he assumes when he gets upset or disappointed or anything other than thrilled. He folds himself nearly in half & stomps around the house looking oddly like the letter U. If you call him U-Man (or anything else not actually his name) he will quickly inform you that, "My name Heir to the Throne Finklestien to work at __________, Tennessee." That part about where he works is very important.

Things are never boring with HT around.

Today at lunch he had a place map with a map of the USA printed on it. He continually pointed to any yellow state & told me that was where he lived. I explained that just because Tennessee was yellow on that map, that didn't make every yellow state Tennessee. He thought I'd lost my mind.

My place mat had pictures of all the presidents on it. I showed him James K. Polk and he got very excited. President Polk lived in my hometown for a time and QM has told HT all about him. When he saw the picture he shouted, "Hey! Dat's James K. Polk! Him and me work at _________, TN!" Me, being the party pooper I am, said, "That's nice, babe, but James K. Polk is dead."

"NOOOOOOO, Aunt FarmWife! Don't say dat word to me. Don't say James K. Polk are dead a me!"
To which QM interjected, "HT, you and I have talked about this. James K. Polk lived in Tennessee one hundred years ago. He's been dead for a long time."
U-man hunched himself over & sighed the most heart wrenching sigh you've ever heard.

A few minutes later Daddy sat down at the table with us. I told HT to tell his Pa who the man in the picture was. "Pa, dat's James K. Polk. Him's my man and him really, actually died." QM prompted HT to tell what James K. Polk was and he told his Pa, "Him was da President of Ameg-uh-luh da United States."

Having him around has messed Bitsy up a great deal. She's not used to hearing other kids call me & Husband by our first names. She spent 15 minutes calling me "FarmWife" today at Bucka's house. She called her dad "Uncle FarmBoy" 5 or 6 times before calling him "Uncle Daddy."

She's also spent a great deal of time trying to keep HT in line. He had the nerve to try and open the gate on Busha & Bucka's fence yesterday. That left Bitsy no choice but to wrestle him to the ground and keep him there so he couldn't escape. And today we "played runnin' 'round in da yard" at Bucka's.

Life with HT is an adventure....even for us.

One Small Step for BabyGirl, One Giant Leap for Her Mama

BabyGirl is leaving in the morning with her Grammy & Pa to spend a week in Tennessee. She's never been away from home for more than one night. I've never been away from any of the FarmHands for more than 3 nights in a row & most of those were spent in the hospital delivering siblings. I'm sure we'll all be fine.

BabyGirl is stoked. When it was first suggested that she go home with them, she was very unsure. Then she decided not to go. After a few hours, she changed her mind & we started packing. She is busily planning a week sans siblings. She's very excited to help Grammy watch HT for a few days.

I flip flop a great deal on this one. I'm so excited for her. I'm so glad she decided to go. I'm glad she's being brave. I'm looking forward to more time to spend with the boys & a few less fights. I'm nervous about being so far away from her for so long. But I'm pretty sure once the week is over I'll wonder where it went.

Growing up, I spent many, many weeks away from home. It wasn't a huge deal to find us spending a week with this aunt & uncle or a set of grandparents. My kids haven't had the same adventures. Husband is wary of letting them go because of things that went on in his extended family when they were little, so this is a really big step for him. I'm very proud of how he's handling it thus far.

I know my daughter & my parents are going to have a wonderful week & I'm looking forward to hearing all about it when she comes home!

I dreamed I ________ in my Maidenform bra.

Considering the one I purchased today to wear with my bridesmaid dress in Bubba & Beck's wedding and the three Princess sent me today (she sent 4, but only 3 were Maidenform), I could be doing just about any & everything in them from here on out.

I'm rather excited because these are the first "cute" bras I've had in quite a while. There's really not much to choose from in the Nursing Bra department & that's been my main support for the past 8 years. So having some sexy, non-mama bras may spur on a new chapter in my Hot Mama Revolution. Who knows, maybe I'll even go out on a limb & buy something other than Hanes Her Way cotton panties.....stranger things have happened.

In non-undergarment news, QM & Daddy met me & the FarmHands at the mall in E'ffinbill today. They went on the great bra hunt with me (OK, so maybe not entirely non-undergarment news. Did you know you can't find run of the mill backless strapless bras anymore? Now they're all convertable....and I thought that was only cars. Gah), then headed to the bridal store for my fitting, then QM decided she had a hankering for Chuck E. Cheese pizza, much to the delight of her grandbabies.

After cleaning up the pizzas rather quickly & playing until they were ready to drop at the Mouse House, we headed back to the mall to ride the carousel with Pa (the only grown up in the group who can go in circles repeatedly). We ran down to Old Navy to hit up their $2 ribbed tank top table, but it was picked nearly clean. Nothing over 9-12 months left. Instead I found a super cute swim suit on sale for BabyGirl & snatched it up.

Came home & tossed the FarmHands in the pool to burn off the last remaining drops of energy they have left. Now they're bathed, waiting on dinner, and watching a Silly Symphonies DVD Grammy brought for them.

My plans for the night? A little Breaking Dawn, a little Freakin' Fabulous by Clinton Kelly, and a little Pride and Prejudice and Zombies....yeah, you read that right. I'll tell you about it later, if you ask nice.

Vacation, vacation

Ahh, it's that time of year again. Vacation planning time. Since last year was the first vacation we've ever taken as a family, I was a tad surprised when Husband started talking vaca again this weekend.

We really only ever have a short list of places to go/things to do. This year we're looking at zoos. Mainly at the Grassmere Zoo in Nashville. I've never been there...at least I don't think I have. They built the "Nashville Zoo" shortly after we moved to TN & Mama & Daddy took us once. After that I think they moved locations. Daddy took BabyGirl to see the ring tailed lemurs when she was two...it was his first time babysitting any of his grands all by himself. Mama & I were at a women's conference in Nashville & we took #1 Son (who was about 4 months old) with us but left BabyGirl with her Pa.

Husband also wants to hit up the giant Bass Pro Shop at Opry Mills Mall since he's never made it there...but I have...twice.

I'm pretty sure if we end up in Nashville for vacation this year, QM & Daddy will be getting another phone call from the FarmHands. "Hey Grammy, do you want to come to the Zoo with me on my birthday?!" Mama, you have been warned.

I relenquish the floor.....

to my father. Daddy is guest posting over on the Queen Mother's blog today. As I have mentioned, he works for one of the Big Three...as did his father, my Grandpa M&M. The bridge loan media coverage is weighing heavily on my family these days. I think what he has to say needs to be heard.

Don't worry, I'm still here.

Although I have been sucked in by the reunional loveliness that is facebook, I am determined not to abandon you here at Memoirs. Although I will admit that I have facebook open in another tab while I'm blogging. Does this mean I'm cheating on my blog? Do you feel betrayed? I have 47 friends on facebook & I've only been there two days. Maybe I need a support group. NaBloPoMo is helping to keep me focused.

In non-facebook news...nothing is happening here. Nothing at all. It's cold & rainy & I want to spend the entire day in bed watching classic movies, but I have four kids to wrangle & we don't have a television in our bed room. Guess that shoots my plans to heck.

Instead I will cloister myself indoors, watch too much TV, eat out of boredom, and try not to spend the entire day on the computer. Maybe I'll clean up my kitchen & bake a batch of gingerbread cookies. That sounds yummy & I have a bunch of new cookie cutters to use that the aunties brought the last time they came to visit.

In the meantime, check out the poll. Peeing in the shower seems to have won it, although there are more than a few of you that are grossed out by it. Thanks for voting! I'll have to think of something new to replace it. Any ideas?

In case you were wondering, Betty does a lovely job of boiling water. Her whistle isn't piercing or shrill and won't wake the dead, but it did alert me. I think I love her. And she almost matches my new coat (yes, I got it a few weeks ago but haven't taken a picture yet. I'll get to it soon).

BTW, I am pea green with envy right now. My folks are off enjoying a weekend away at a swanky hotel in the greater Nashville area compliments of one of Daddy's co-workers. Oh, and Daddy got a new iPhone this week. What is the world coming to?!

A visit from the royal family

Apparently I cannot give my kids Golden Crisp anymore. The Today show is telling me it's almost 50% sugar. Cripes. (Yes, I use the word "cripes" in my everyday speech.)

QM & Daddy came to visit for a few hours yesterday. Bitsy sucked up wonderfully to her Pa. She gave him kisses & demanded he hold her every time he moved. Incidentally, she never gives kisses anymore. B.B. pounded his Pa into the carpet during "beating time" leaving me to wonder if maybe Pa isn't getting too old to "beat" with his grand babies...shhh, don't tell him I said that. I think the issues isn't so much Pa's age as it is B.B.'s obsession with the UFC & his desire to actually punch people during "beating time."

Grammy was whisked off to B.B.'s room to see everything he owns while Bitsy climbed all over her & Oooo'd. Eventually Grammy was able to escape to the living room to visit while B.B. chattered incessantly, "Gwammy, we can do dis in da game."

Eventually, Pa decided to empty the half ton on change he had jingling in his pocket, so B.B. brought out everyone's bank, lined them up in the living room floor, and deposited "lots & lots of monies!" Bitsy sat in the floor by her bank & talked to her quarters happily for about 10 minutes before dropping then in the slot.

They had to hit the road before BabyGirl & #1 Son got home from school, but they'll be back this way Saturday.

It only sounds like an air raid siren.

This is only a test. Do not be alarmed. If this were an actual emergency, instructions would be flashed across your screen. This is only a test.

In actuality, it's Bitsy screeching at her brother to share his apple. Ear piercing doesn't being to cover it. How can something that small make such a horrifying sound?

Yesterday we picked the older FarmHands up at school & headed to Busha & Bucka's to visit with the Aunties (a quick refresher: The Aunties are Busha's sisters. They come to visit a few times a year). One year, when we went to visit, B.B. saw them and promptly hid in the trash can closet for 20 minutes. Yesterday he just refused to talk. We walked in, I sat down, and he immediately said, "Can we go home now?"

The Aunties are yard sale junkies. They LOVE to bargain hunt & yard sales feed that need perfectly. When they come down to visit, they always bring treasures. One year it was bags & bags of trashy romance novels with the steamy parts marked clearly for me. One year it was enough brand new pantie hose to last me 15 years or so. One year it was an almost new patio set for the kids. This year the loot is a box full of cookie cutters & canning jars. I'm in heaven! Quite a few of the cutters are ones QM had when I was a kid!

When B.B. finally decided to stay & visit, the kids played blocks & Little People while the rest of us laughed at Bitsy's antics & chatted. I have a cousin (Auntie J's granddaughter) who is currently a surrogate mother for a couple her mother knows very well. The wife had 16 miscarriages. My cousin, who has 4 children, told her mom, "I can do that. I have no problems carrying." She & her husband discussed it & approached the couple with their offer. The twins are the couple's biological children. My cousin (as she puts it) is only the oven. The babies are due in January. Some how none of this was mentioned to Auntie J until this past Sunday. She's telling me this yesterday & I said, "How is it I knew about this before you did?" I haven't seen cousin in YEARS! Apparently cousin's mom had told Busha, but forgot to tell her own mother!

When cousin & her husband were telling their kids about their plan to surrogate, their 8 year old son said, "Mom, this kid isn't staying here, is it? We don't need any more kids here." They assured him that this was not their baby, they were only growing it for the other family. He said, "OK, as long as it's not staying!"

QM & Daddy are on their way here. I called Daddy's cell at 8 this morning to see where they were (they're leave-at-4-am kind of people). Daddy answered & said, "Hi FarmWife." I said, "Hi. Where are you guys?" "We're at IHOP in Evansville. As soon as the phone rang I told your mom, 'We're here, that's FarmWife.'" I told him my radar kicked in when they hit town.

They're headed to Grandma M&M's for a funeral tomorrow. I have to get the kids Spring school pictures out & cut apart to send with them....before it's time for Fall pictures next week. Never hesitate to procrastinate is my motto.

What We Learned Yesterday: FarmWife Edition

1. Regardless of the fact that they've been hanging in the closet for 3 weeks, the clothes you plan on putting your kids in for family pictures will be dirty 2 hours before the photo appointment.
2. Watch out for rebar sticking out of the concrete slab at the front of your parking space when you back out. It may rip the front fascia off your HHR.
3. If it does, the town's local car dealership may be wonderfully helpful & fix it immediately.
4. It is possible to wash, iron, dress, & prime five kids in 2 short hours....even when one doesn't get there until 30 minutes before time to leave.
5. On the way to the studio, you will realize you never combed the boys' hair.
6. If you get there half an hour early, they will undoubtedly be running half an hour behind schedule.
7. That being said, the girls who work the photography studio at Wal-Mart make far to little money. Anyone who can make all my children hold a pose, look in one direction at the same time, and three of the four smile, deserves a raise. Throw HT in the mix, & she should get paid vacation too.
8. Show him half a dozen wonderful pictures of him & his grandbabies & Pa is likely to spend the entire retirement fund on portraits.
9. That same Pa will reach the level of Super Pa when he wears his new Super hero themed pajama bottoms for his grandsons to see.
10. A trip to Burger King is almost as much fun as the Fair.
11. Who ever decided to add Kraft Mac & Cheese, Apples cut in the shape of french fries, and plastic bottles of milk to the Kids Meal was a genius....and a math whiz...I didn't realize that was worth nearly four dollars!
12. Watching two babies share food with each other is the cutest thing ever.
13. HT has superpowers. Really. The boy has a super sonic scream. Just ask the folks who work at Burger King. When he gets excited, the boy can shatter glass!
14. Climbing up inside Kiddy Land to rescue said super nephew, does not get easier with age. I think we made Princess do it last time, so maybe she doesn't owe me one after all.
15. A new diamond in an "old" setting can take your breath away just as easily as the original diamond did the day you got it. And can do so repeatedly.
16. Kidney stones can make a FarmBoy more randomly affectionate. This is a good thing.
17. Coming home at 8:30 after dressing up, pictures, dressing down, Burger King's play land, two babies, & a quick trip around Wal-Mart can really knock a FarmWife (and her parents) flat on their butts.

Tubes, Telephones, Photo shoots, and Guilty pleasures

Yesterday's trip to the ENT was successful. There's nothing like driving an hour & a half to see a doctor for 5 minutes & drive an hour & a half home....with three kids. Really, it rocks. (Sniff, sniff...do you smell that? Is it sarcasm?)

BabyGirl has been telling me her tubes were coming out. I told doc. He looked in her ear & said, "She'd be right." Then he reached in with this long tweezer like thingy & pulled out a minuscule piece of plastic that has changed our lives for the better. He said as long as she stays infection free, it's all good. If not, she'll need a new tube. I'm praying for the former.

When we got home Husband said, "Kork called." Kork has a very common name in real life, but is still the only one I know. He wasn't sure if it was actually Kork or Needlefingers as their names are similar. I said, "What exactly did she say." "This is Kork." OK, Needlefingers would never use that version of her name. When she called back I think we ended up talking for an hour & a half. It was nice! We don't get to talk very often....in fact we've gone years without talking in the past. But we always seem to pick up like no time's passed.

Today I am anxiously awaiting the FedEx driver. There's a diamond in transit to my house. I need sparkly things right now. Badly.

QM & Daddy are supposed to be at Busha's house now. I'm not sure if they came in last night or not. Daddy wants to take this rare occasion when he has all 5 of his grandbabies in one place to have their picture made. So QM & I have to consult on wardrobes, dress small folks, and try to get them to smile & look at the camera at the same time.

In preparation, last night both my boys got hair cuts. Wanna' know how cheap I really am? I do it myself at home. We took #1 Son for his first major hair cut (we'd trimmed a bit at home before) and they botched it. My boy has 3 crowns (two at the top of his head & one in front) and a cowlick. I told the stylist about them, showed them to her, and she cut the hair very short around them. His hair stood straight up in the air for 3 weeks. I figured I could butcher it myself at home & save us the $15. QM found me some good hair shears & I began my career as a barber. Personally, I think I'm pretty good at it. I've even trimmed BabyGirl's layers on my own. Husband just buzzes his all off, so that's a no brainer. I'm so ready for Shear Genius.

Which brings me to my latest guilty obsession....I LOVE Shear Genius. In particular I love Daniel. He's so cute & southern & loves him some big hair & he cries & gets all excited about Alison Sweeney & has beautiful, big, uber-white, Chiclet teeth. I just want to go shopping with him!

Then there's Charlie who can seriously do hair, but I'd rather eat glass than spend an hour in a room with him. I so hope he doesn't win, but if his streak continues.....ugh.

At least they sent Oshun home early on. I couldn't have handled 6 weeks of him. Forget hair, personality is enough for me to can someone.

Now if only they could take the winner of ANTM, have her hair styled by the winner of Shear Genius, dressed by the Project Runway winner, and photographed by whoever won that Snapped show (or what ever it was called, I never watched it).

Almost as good as a cruise

The Queen Mother asked what I did on my "vacation." She must not have been paying close attention since I was at her house...but I'll recap just the same. ;)

Day One (Friday):

• Got up at 4 am & decided to leave since I knew I wouldn't be going back to sleep.
• Picked her up.
• Drove 4 hours to get to the hospital where Daddy was waiting.
• Was told by the kind nurse that Bitsy really wasn't supposed to be in Daddy's room, but we could stay for a while...just not too long.
• Took QM & drove past houses the size of Wal-Mart & wondered why 4 people really needed 6,500 square feet to live in with their two tiny dogs.
• Ate at Logan's Roadhouse (yummy) with QM & Princess.
• Went home & unpacked in the rain.
• Visited with Art at work & met her uncle & cousin.
• Bought windshield wipers.
• Hung out at home with Princess, HT, Axl, QM, Daddy, and Bubba.

Day Two (Saturday):

• Laid around in my PJ's until Mrs.T called & said she was coming to see us.
• Watched Daddy give himself his first insulin injection at home & fight with his glucose meter.
• Went back to see Art at work with Daddy to pick up a rug she had for QM.
• Ate at Ruby Tuesdays (again...yummy) with QM & Daddy.
• Went to Wal-Mart to get Daddy supplies & begin the hunt for a medic alert bracelet.
• Went home & crashed for the afternoon.
• Helped Bubba & Princess wrestle the top of QM's canopy up on the back deck.
• Visited with Bubba, Princess, Axl, HT, QM, Daddy, Art, Syd, Lulu, and Mr.CA.
• Left the rapscallions with QM, took Art & Princess & went to see their houses.
• Came home & crashed again.

Day Three (Sunday):

• Woke up with Bitsy around 7 am.
• Ate turkey bacon for the first time.
• Put Bitsy down for a nap.
• Tried to watch Du Berry Was a Lady with QM, but we both fell asleep on the couches (while Daddy napped in his room & Bitsy in hers...gotta' love family nap time).
• Packed.
• Drove QM past the house Princess & Axl are moving into this weekend.
• Went to see Bubba's apartment.
• Looked for shirts for Grandpa M&M at Sears.
• At at Texas Roadhouse (yummy...more steak).
• Hunted for Medic alert bracelets some more.
• Drove home.

It was action packed & very exotic. I am glad I got to see Bubba, Princess, and Art's homes & Art's place of employment. It's comforting to have a setting to put them all in in my imagination. Oh, and I got Spider-Man kisses from my perfect nephew (his mom holds him upside down & he comes at you with his mouth wide open. It's adorable). Now if only I could convince my brother to hire a maid........

I do have one question for you. What do you call kisses at your house? Sometimes we just give kisses. Sometimes it's "smoochies." Sometimes it's "lovin's." HT gives "sugar." I'm wondering if there are anyother names for those open mouth, slobbery things babies give.

1,000th POST EXTRAVAGANZA!!!!!

IN HONOR OF MY ONE THOUSANDTH POST, I SHALL BLOG ENTIRELY IN CAPITAL LETTERS AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!! OK, so maybe not. That gets irritating really fast.

Instead I shall revel in my new found lack of responsibility....at least for the next 24 hours. You see, I have escaped the farm. I'm lounging in the tiny realm of my mother & doing little to nothing unless I really want to. It's amazing how easy it is to care for one laid back toddler after dealing with 3 over-the-top crazy FarmHands all day every day. This is truly the life.

Add to that three adults in a house with only the one toddler. There are plenty of big people to chase her, play with her, comfort her, feed her, entertain her, and laugh at her. Bitsy is loving it! She's never really been the sole center of attention before.

Call me irresponsible....I'm loving it.

Don't get me wrong. I miss my babies. I've talked to them each twice. They are surviving. Husband bought them Cheetos. Uncle Little BIL is visiting. Their life is good. At lest until bed time...then things are a bit tough since Daddy doesn't know the exact magical incantations that keep little boys glued in their beds. He called last night & I filled him in on the details. He didn't call back in a panic, so I'm assuming they all fell asleep eventually.

So, I'm off to lounge, shop, kiss on my perfect nephew, visit, and play with Art while basking in the love of home.

And best of all, My Daddy's feeling good. His blood sugar is down (130 this morning...not GREAT, but not horrible), his blood pressure is down, and the research has begun. He gives himself a shot every morning and has started watching his food intake closely. Now he's dreaming of a mountain bike. Maybe we'll shop for one of those today too.

Updates...Updated

We're here. QM & I left around 5 this morning to head to Tennessee. We got to the hospital around 10 am and found a very relived Daddy waiting eagerly for us.

Bad news: his blood sugar isn't coming down as far as we'd like. It's plateaued around 215.

Good news: The doctor thinks he's OK to come home. Bubba & Princess are bringing him home as soon as he's released.

Mama & I got there only to find out they don't really like babies in the patient rooms. We thumbed our noses at the rule...after what we've been through in the past two weeks, no one needs to cross either one of us. We stayed until Bitsy got loud, then we left. Mama was planning on heading home to get her car (since Daddy didn't have his at the hospital) and then go back up. Bitsy & I were going to stay here. Instead, they're sending Daddy home.

I'm worn thin & feeling a tad ill from stress & too much sugar. I'll be happy when my Dad is home.

*******8

Daddy is home. His blood sugar was down to 116 when they sent him home (praise the LORD). He's currently playing "Rawr" with Bitsy & HT.

He would like me to make it public knowledge that he did not drive himself to the hospital yesterday. He let Denny drive this time. Before they left I asked if Denny was driving him, "After you humiliated me on the Internet in front of millions, I decided I'd better." I knew blogging was good for something!

Not really what I meant.

Remember when I said I wanted to go home (to Tennessee) this summer? I'm pretty sure I prefaced it with a no obligations trip home. Well, I'm going home in the morning. But not really how I wanted to.

Daddy's back in the hospital. His blood sugar isn't coming down the way the doctor wants it to. While this isn't a HUGE deal in the grand scheme of things, I am a tad freaked out. Normally I'd be pacing the floor trying to decided if I should pack up the FarmHands, hop in the van & drive the 5 hours south. This time, the decision was painlessly made for me. QM has to get home. She's still at G'ma M&M's with no vehicle. I'm taking her home.

Aunt Silverbelle's oldest son is bringing her half way. Unkie Di is meeting them & bringing her to Busha's. I'll pick her up in the morning with only Bitsy in tow & we'll hit the road.

The hospital trip is precautionary (so I've been told), but Mama needs to be with Daddy. We need her to be with him. I need to see him. So we're going.

Husband's taking a vacation day tomorrow so he can stay here with the 3 oldest FarmHands. I had planned on taking them until he pointed out I'd have nothing to do with them once we got to the hospital. I just have to make it home before 2 pm on Monday.

Please pray for us all. Daddy for healing, Mama & me for a safe trip, FarmBoy for a safe weekend alone (for the first time ever) with the FarmHands. I'll try to keep you posted from Mama's house.

Men! Boys! And other gross things.

Aunt D replied to an email I sent yesterday about Daddy to let me know Bubba did not drive Daddy to the ER on Tuesday. He drove himself. Princess had already told me that earlier in the day. I was less than happy about it. Daddy's friend Denny was in the car with him, but I would have felt much better knowing Denny had driven. I told Daddy as much last night. "There's a new family rule. You are not allowed to drive if your blood sugar is 600." He kept saying, "Honey, I felt OK. I was OK." To which I replied, "Just because you felt OK, doesn't mean you're going to stay OK. Next time, just let Denny drive." Daddy said it's not fair to make rules after the fact. Then he defended himself saying, "Grandpa M&M drove himself to the hospital when he was having a stroke." That was about 3 years ago...and I said, "No driving during strokes either!" Something is wrong with these men.

Lets add onto this the fact that Grandpa M&M doesn't like to use his walker. He's giving QM & Grandma fits. Grandma has yelled at him. Mama has yelled at him. I'm not sure if he's just forgetting to use it, or if he's being stubborn. He does use it at times, but not at all times (like his PT told him he needs to). Mama said she's tired of finding seeing his walker in the living room when he's no where around.

AND...Bucka, who is also diabetic, got under the house this week to work on phone lines & water lines. The underside of their house is a belly crawl space...VERY narrow, and it's been hot....VERY hot. Busha hadn't heard him in a while, so she went outside to check on him. He was crawling out from under the house when she got outside. "Get me something to drink with sugar in it. My blood sugar's dropped." When she took his blood sugar it was 24!

Last night I told QM, "I have had it with these men! I'm going to hand cuff Grandpa to his walker so he can't forget to use it. You know how they install breathalyzers in alcoholic's vehicles so the car won't start if they don't blow clean? I'm going to hook up a glucose meter to Daddy's car so it won't start if his blood sugar is high. And after that I'm going to epoxy Bucka & Busha's crawl space door closed. Mold be damned."

On the FarmHand front, last night I made Mac & Cheese for dinner (don't judge me). B.B. was sitting at the table with his bowl of macaroni but nothing to eat it with. "B.B. you need to come get a spoon or a fork out of the drawer."
"No, you bring me one, Mommy."
"No, B.B. you can come get it."
"No, Mommy, you hav'a bring it a me a'cause (incoherent mumbles)."
"What did you say?"
"(More incoherent mumbles)"
"Bud, I can't understand you. Look up, speak slowly & a little louder." (The frustration was rising at this point)
"You hav'a bring it to me a'cause you're my sweet girl. You always give me hugs and kisses and you're my sweet girl."
"Really?! Forget the mac and cheese, baby. I'll make you some waffles. You want waffles? You want ice cream for dinner?! You can totally have ice cream. You can have anything you want. I love you, baby. You're so sweet!" OK, so I didn't tell him he could have ice cream & waffles for dinner, but I wanted to.

This morning I was beat. Run-over-by-a-Mack-truck kind of beat. Bitsy woke up about 6:30, so I blocked her into the living room and flopped down on the couch while she played. I must have dozed off for a minute or two because when I looked up, she was picking at something on the carpet & trying to eat it. I immediately rolled onto the floor & pulled her away. When I looked at the carpet, I couldn't figure out what she was trying to eat...for about 4 seconds.

When I realized what it was, I nearly gaged. She had been laying on her back on the carpet when she pooped...and it came out the back of her diaper...and was smeared on the carpet...and...well, you know. It was a VERY small amount, but still....EWW!

I think I should go back to bed if this is how today's planning on starting.

No more, please....Updated

No more nights like last night if you please. I'm never taking out the trash again. You see, while I was outdoors, Bubba called. The FarmHands didn't tell me the phone rang, so I didn't check the machine. It was a good 30 minutes later before I got the message.

"Sis, you need to call me when you get this. I'm taking Dad to the ER. His blood sugar is over 500 or 600, I'm not sure which."

WHAT?!

When I called Bubba back, he didn't answer. The panic began to rise. I called Daddy's cell phone & was sent straight to voice mail. "Daddy, it's me. It's 7:30. I just got a message from Bubba saying you're blood sugar was over 500. If you're not in a diabetic coma, could you please call me? I'm a bit concerned."

Eventually I got ahold of Bubba & proceeded to yell at him for being glib when I questioned him (no, I'm not Tom Cruise...Bubba & I handle stress very differently...it may be a good thing I was 5 hours away). Then I made him put Princess on the phone because I could hear her in the back ground. She knew very little since she'd just gotten there. When Daddy heard all this, he got on the phone with me. Of the 4 of us, he was the most calm & collected.

Long night short, he has type 2 diabetes. He's trying to get ahold of his doctor this morning to get an appointment with him (good luck with that, Daddy. I told Mama you never should have hired John Dorian. You'll have to pry him away from his Appletinis first).

IV fluids & insulin & he was home around 1 this morning. We're all a little on edge (Princess, Bubba, and myself), but Daddy keeps telling us, "This is not a big deal. I'm OK. I'm going to be OK." And he's right. I think I'd have been less upset if Mama had been there with him.

But she's still at Grandma M&M's. Good news: Grandpa came home from the rehab center yesterday. He's having a bit of a hard time "remembering" to use his walker. Grandma may have to superglue him to it. But he is doing well. And from what I understand their trip to Alaska & then to Canada with Uncle M & Aunt D to see Inkling is still on.

Yesterday Inkling called me and asked, "What do you do when you're horribly homesick & can't go see your mom?" I said, "Mostly I call my mother repeatedly for no reason at all & refuse to get off the phone." Last night when Bubba called I was ready to jump in the van & drive south. Instead I sat in BabyGirl's floor & cried because I couldn't be at the hospital with my Daddy. That's when it hit me. I'm blessed. I'm only a 5 hour drive from them. Inkling's a three day drive from her parents. It's all about perspective.

_____________________________________________________

Updated to add: Aunt Silverbelle is back in the hospital. She was having chest pains. You now know everything I know.

Princess & HT took Daddy to see the doctor today. Doc put Daddy on different medicine for his diabetes & told him he needs to take the class they offer at the hospital about diabetic management. Hopefully when QM gets home they can both take it since Doc told her she will someday be diabetic as well (this is not an "if" it's more of a "when").

I've had enough, thank you.

Oh, and have I mentioned Inkling may have bronchitis on top of the worst case of morning sickness ever?