How to get an unscheduled day away from home.

Just come down with appendicitis.

Simple, right?

But I really don't suggest it.

Tuesday afternoon, around 5:30, I got sick.  My first thought was that I had a wicked bad case of gas & no gas-x in the house.  After trying every possible position to get comfortable I decided a hot bath would help.  It did, but only very temporarily.  It was Bucka's birthday and I had made him Cat Head Biscuits for dinner but had to call Busha and tell her we weren't coming because my stomach hurt too bad.  Then came the vomiting.  Fun.  After 2 extra-strength Tylenol and an hour on the couch with my hot rice bag, I was comfortable enough to sleep....but only if I didn't move at all.  It was a long night.

The next morning all 4 of the FarmHands had check-ups with our family doctor.  Husband went with us & planned on sitting in the car while I took the kids in to see Doc.  I told him I really thought I'd need his help inside.  Doc took one look at me trying to walk & he new something was wrong.  15 minutes later I was on my way to the hospital for a CAT scan.  By 1:30 that afternoon I was being wheeled down to surgery.

Grandma M&M had surgery in Indy on Monday so Mama was on her way to our neck of the woods when they took me back.  That was a God send because we really need her help around here right now.

Apparently the surgeon asked me if I wanted to go home the same day and I told him no.  I wanted to stay in the hospital over night because I didn't want to try to recover from surgery at home with 4 kids.

He opted to do an open appendectomy in stead of the laproscopic surgery because of how close my appendix was to the surface.  He said it would be faster and easier to get to it if he just opened me up.  I figured one opening as opposed to 3 sounded good to me.

I'm sorry if this post is a bit disjointed.  Vicodin and I are buddy-buddy right now.  I think it may be nap time.

Because Sometimes Dad Needs Help, Too.

There are lots of parenting books out there.  Most of them seem to be geared towards Mom.  People seem to forget that Dad is a parent, too...and often times no one's bothered to teach him the basics like how to change a diaper and what you need in your diaper bag.  Thankfully, Brett Cohen & my good friends at Quirk Books have come to the aid of all new dads with their New book- Stuff Every Dad Should Know.

This is where I fully admit that this book came in the mail a few months (maybe 2) ago. I read it, stuck it on the shelf for a time when I could sit down and write my review only to totally forget I had it.  Whoops.  But I'm not too terribly far behind.  The release date was May 1st.

You may recall my touting the praises of Stuff Every Mom Should Know a few months ago.  The Dad version deserves a place on the shelf right next to it (in fact, that's where it sits on my shelves).

The book does not treat fathers like idiots, but it does deal with stuff the most clueless of fathers need to learn.  How to pick out appropriate clothing for your child (something Husband could have used when the FarmHands were to little to pick for themselves....and even now when they're not great at matching), Elements of a First Aid Kit, How to Squelch a Temper Tantrum, what to do when your child asks where babies come from, how to assign chores, and many more.  And then there's the fun stuff like how to build a sand castle, plan a sleep over, how to make your kids "fly" without throwing out your back, how to teach your teen to drive (maybe I put this in the wrong section...get back to me in 4 more years when BabyGirl gets her learners permit), and how to bond with your teen.

Stuff Every Dad Should Know doesn't just cover the tiny baby portion of a child's life but goes right up to how to meet your child's in-laws.  It's not a huge book, but the information covered far surpasses most parenting books I've read.

This one will make a great Baby Shower gift for dad (because really, poor dad gets the shaft during most baby showers) or a take-to-the-hospital read for the brief amount of time Mom is in labor and doesn't need him at her beck and call.  Plus the hard back and small size make it perfect for packing around in the diaper bag ("It's called a satchel.  Indiana Jones wears one." -Alan Garner, The Hangover) unless of course he buys the Kindle version & keeps it on his phone.

Good Job, Mr. Cohen.  You may have saved fathers all over the country from feeling helpless in the presence of their 7 pound 6 ounce bundle of joy.

You can call me the Scrap Queen

Nothing smells quite as wonderful as bed sheets dried on the clothesline.  If they could bottle that scent I'd wear it.  If they could put it in a candle, I'd have a house full of Yankees in that particular scent.  I simply adore it.

Getting the sheets on the line- not so much.

It's kind of a pain in the hindquarters.  Especially when you can't keep track of your clothes pins.


So I picked up this funny looking little thing.  It's basically a (pretending to be) cloth bag with a wire going through the top to keep it open a bit and a metal hook to hang it from your clothesline.  Unfortunately, it has not stood the test of time very well.  In fact, I lose more pins that I transport in it anymore.

 About a week ago I came across Busha's clothes pin apron while QM and I were working in her garage.  "I can make that," I thought....and I did.

 It's made entirely out of scrap fabric I had from other projects (mostly from a kitchen apron I made for Inkling a few years back).  It might look a bit odd on, but that's because it's holding about 150 or more clothes pins.

Maybe this will inspire me to do laundry tomorrow.  Then again, I really like looking at it while it sits on the kitchen table.  Maybe I'll make it our new centerpiece.

#1 Son turns 9

How did this happen?  How did my pudgy baby boy grow up and turn nine?  He's only 364 days from double digits.  I'm not sure I like this.  Not sure at all.

But his birthday was a great day!

As I tucked him in Monday night he said, "Mom, can I wake you & Dad up early tomorrow?  It is my birthday."  If Husband didn't work until odd hours of the morning, I would have been OK with this.  Instead I told him to wait & we'd get up when Dad was ready.

Luckily he didn't have to wait too long.  Dad drug himself out of bed around 7:30.  By that point I thought the boy was going to  burst from excitement.  He wasn't alone.  Bitsy comes running into the living room and whispers, "Mommy, I peeked at #1 Son's birfday take.  But don't worry.  I didn't let him see."

His presents were a hit but the biggest hit of the day was when his best friend's mom IM'ed me to see if we'd be home.  His buddy had a present & wanted to bring it over.  His friend has a little brother who's friends with B.B. so an impromptu birthday party was thrown.

They boys came & they all played for nearly 3 hours....until everyone was happy, hot, and worn out.  The boys went home & I decided it was nap time for Mama.  Just as I settled down for a rest, QM pulled up the drive.  I'd trade a few hours with my mom for a nap most any day of the week.

We sat & visited & looked up stuff about our family names on line while the FarmHands ran around outside.  Then QM went to get pizza for all of us and I rounded up short folks for their baths.

After it was all said & done #1 Son said it was, "the best birthday EVER!"  I'm inclined to agree.

Coming to a Realization

According to the ticker on my side bar, Husband and I have been married for 14 years, 5 months, 2 weeks, and 4 days today.  For the vast majority of it we've seen each other for hours & hours & hours every day.  Initially we worked the same shift at the same factory.  We rode to & from work together.  The only time we were really apart was the 8 hours a day we were each in our respective work spaces (in different buildings). Then BabyGirl came along & I left the work force (Kork, that sounds much better, doesn't it?).  We spent every day together until it was time for him to go to work- again- hours & hours.  But lately things have changed.

Days I work I leave home anywhere from 5:10 am to 6:25 am.  I get home anywhere from 1:30 pm to 2:30 pm.  Some days we have to meet on the high way to swap Bitsy from his van to mine.  Those days are tough.  I might talk to him for 5 minutes before I leave the house and again for 5-10 minutes when we meet up.

This week I've had to work the past 2 days & haven't been home until after he's long gone....and it bothers me.

Anyone who knows us knows that we are not clingy.  I do not pine over Husband when I'm in TN and he's at home.  We're not lovey-dovey by any stretch.  But we do spend the vast majority of our time together. And now that has to change.

The realization has set in that next year things are going to be very different.  More different that I thought when we began discussing my working outside the home.  But we're going to make this work.  It's going to take a decided effort, but it's going to work just the same.

While I've been gone this week, Husband and Bitsy put in a new flower bed for me for Mother's Day.  I guess being gone means coming home to surprises.  That part is fine by me.

It is a small sort of accomplishment, I guess.

The phone rang at 5:30 this morning.

I worked from 6:30 to 2.

Helped Mama move stuff around in Busha & Bucka's garage.

Got home 5 minutes before the FarmHands got off the bus.

Baked & decorated cookies for B.B.'s class tomorrow.

Washed my table cloth.

Washed my van.

Did dishes.

Folded 3 loads of laundry.

Loaded & ran dishwasher.

Made pizza for the FarmHands.

Is this what it's like to be a working mother?

Guess what. I still like boys.

Singing boys.

Strange boys.

Boys old enough to be my father.

Boys in bow ties.

Brooding British boys.

And trench coat wearing boys about to go E.A. Poe on us.

As I've said before, these are just boys I'd like to carry around in my purse so I could pull them out for Facebook profile picture photo ops or to show off to friends on special occasions.

When High School comes back to bite you in the butt.

I was the quintessential drama geek in high school.  I wore weird clothes (really, no one wore knee boots and rust colored corduroy skirts in 1993).  I listened to weird music.  I had entire segments of the Muppet Movie, Monty Python, The Princess Bride, Rocky Horror, and other cult classics memorized.  Broadway musicals were my life's ambition.  One thing I was not was 'preppy.'

In fact, anything to do with the "popular" crowd, I abhorred- school spirit most of all.  In fact, I detested sports of any kind.  I though the cheer leaders were bubble headed ninnies.  I was pretty sure the football players couldn't spell Shakespeare much less read him.  Yes, I was a reverse snob.  If you weren't a band geek, drama geek, or had purple hair I didn't want anything to do with you.

Yes, I was the girl who spent hours at football games (I was in the flag corps in the marching band) screaming the names of cheerleaders when their backs were to the stands while pretending I hadn't said a word when they bounced around & scanned the crowd for the friends they thought were calling them.  I was the loudest of the protesters who felt the cheerleader's skirts should at the very least fall within the length limits set forth by the school dress code.  I was the black clad, red lipstick wearing misanthrope who read Sylvia Plath during pep-rallys (OK, so I never read Sylvia Plath in high school, but you get the idea).  In fact, the closest I ever got to cheerleading was when I helped Did dress like an anarchist cheerleader from the Smells Like Teen Spirit video for Halloween.

Today all of that has officially come back to bite me in the hind quarters.  BabyGirl made the cheer squad at school!

What has the world come to?  I am now a cheer mom.  Heaven help us all.


In all actuality, I am over the moon proud of BabyGirl.  She worked really hard & is super excited about this new venture.  I'm super excited about the socks and sneakers she's going to have to become accustomed to.  Cheerleading is going to open up a world of not only sports and team activities to her, but it's going to open up a world of yet unworn fashion.  I can't wait to see how this goes.

So do not be surprised to find me screaming my head off in the stands when someone shouts, "If you're here for the Warriors say, 'HEY!'"

HEY!!!

Mom, the Party Pooper.

BabyGirl brought home a party invitation Friday.  She was so excited.  Two siblings at her school were having a joint party so the kids invited are in 5th and 7th grade.  The invite was a 2 page typed  set of rules for The Hunger Games.  Here's a brief break down:

Rules: How do you eliminate someone?  You put a dot on their head {on the back there was a picture of how big the dot is supposed to be- roughly the size of a half dollar & it must be filled in}.  Once the dot is on your head you're out & you need to sign your name off the list.


Boundaries: Once you are in the woods you STAY in the woods until you are eliminated or win.


You're competing for a prize.  There can be one girl winner and one boy winner.


What to bring: a black marker and a backpack full of snacks, drinks, pen, paper, and bandages (in case you fall down).  No Weapons! They will not be tolerated.


If any contestant gets alarmed or decides they do not want a dot on their head they need to let the enemy know they're out of the game.  Once these words are said, they are out and the enemy needs to put a dot on their head {just a bit contradictory}.


The party is from 12:30 to 4 pm on Saturday.

First of all, if you know nothing about The Hunger Games, it is a book about a post apocalyptic America where the government randomly draws the names of 24 children, puts them in an arena, and makes them fight to the death while the rest of the country watches on television.

BabyGirl was over the moon about this invitation.  First of all, not a lot of parties are thrown for her age group.  Secondly, she's mad about The Hunger Games having read all 3 books.

She couldn't wait until I got home Sunday to show me the information packet about the party.  She wasn't as excited when I told her she couldn't go.

I  want to know what you, as a parent, think of this party idea.

Intense Auburn

Yes, Ladies, it's that time again.  Time to slouch off the sweats, break out the skirts and lip gloss, and let the Hot Mama inside you shine!!

Ordinary Sarah and I were chatting on Facebook a few weeks back & I suggested we break out the defibrillator and give new life to the HMR.  This was a mostly selfish request because for the past few months (Winter is tough on a girl), I've let things slide.  The flat iron is rarely out of the drawer. My foundation has lasted months longer than normal.  I've almost forgotten how to apply eye liner.

This leads me to my HMR question of the week:  What do you do to spice up your look?  What makes you feel shiny and happy again?  When you've had enough of the day-to-day drab, what style fix to you immediately reach for?

Mine is hair dye.  Almost always.  I treat it like lip gloss.  If it's good, it makes me feel like a million bucks. If it's bad, it's only temporary.  I have been every color under the rainbow...red, auburn, brown, black, purple, and an unfortunate blue that turned green.  The only thing I haven't tried is true blond.

In desperate need of a pick-me-up last weekend, I hit the home hair dye aisle at our local Mega Mart.  I decided to go "Intense Auburn" thinking it would be reminiscent of all the times I tried to dye my hair red in college.  It always turned out sort of red with purple undertones.  Apparently they've changed the dye formulas in the past 15 years because "Auburn" wasn't the key word in this dye.  It was "Intense."

In fact, as soon as the towel came off my head, I hopped right back in the shower and shampooed my little heart out.  The Auburn I was so looking forward to had more of a Bozo the Clown tone to it at first.  But after a good shampoo and blow dry, it wasn't too bad.  In fact, 2 days & 2 more shampoos later, I'm really happy with  it.

Husband doesn't understand my need to experiment with color, but he's a boy.  What do they know?

Let's hear it.  What are your go-to look changers?

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