Sprinklers 2; Vootz 0

The runner up will receive a large scab from elbow to mid-fore arm. A 4X4 inch bandage with complimentary arm waxing (valid at time of bandage removal only) and a beautiful scar memento.....

...and the winner is Vootz, for his rendition of Have a Nice Trip, See You Next Fall. Episode 1.

The grand prize winner will receive a visit to the O.R., two complimentary titanium pins, professional photo shoot, a fine bottle of vintage Tylenol with codeine and a six week stay in quality plaster, a personal scribe, plus pampering and sympathy from the cutest 4th grade girls at P. Elementary....

...and the winner is Vootz, for his rendition of Have a Nice Trip, See You Next Fall. Episode 2.

On Tuesday of last week Vootz was running in the back yard, tripped over a sprinkler head and left a large part of his left fore arm to tan on the brick wall. On Tuesday night this week we were walking except those who were running to the Art Fair at the school, Vootz walked ran up into the flower bed, tripped over a sprinkler and landed on his right hand. He whined a little about how it hurt and how he was sure it was broken, no real cry just a whine. I gave him the "You were told not to run and to stay with us and stay on the SIDE WALK and if you were suppose to walk in the flower beds they would be called FLOWER WALKS not flower beds and it's called a side WALK for a reason, you WALK on it." speech. So when we got to the school where it was light enough to see I checked it out. Sure enough, his middle finger was already twice it's normal size, very crooked and turning purple. So we took 2 1/2 minutes to glance over the kids art work and headed home to splint and ice his finger. I gave him Motrin, a kiss and tucked him in.

JC was giving him grief so I had to remind him that he also broke his hand when he was a kid and not once but twice. He said, "I know, but at least I broke mine doing something stupid that I shouldn't have been doing. He was just walking to school. Couldn't be those huge o' feet he has. Those things are like freakin' ski's!"

I took Vootz to get x-rays Wednesday morning. His pediatrician looked at the films and scheduled him to see the nurse practitioner in the ortho department that afternoon, she looked at the films and scheduled him to see the orthopedist the next afternoon. He looked at the films and scheduled him for surgery Tuesday. He gets to have to titanium pins for three weeks and a cast for six weeks.

I never know whether to explain to my kids in advance what is going to happen so they can be prepared or to just let it happen and deal with it when it's all said and done and they are pissed. I waffled back and forth with it for a few minutes and decided since he is almost ten years old I should inform him what "having lab work done" means. I was wrong. He started leaching onto me and begging not to have to get another needle. (oh, He was behind on a shot when he went in to see his pediatrician, so he had to have an MMR) As we were checking into lab for his pre-op...

Vootz- Mom, can't I just pick a scab and they can take that blood?
Me- Groooosss!! No, they can't.
Lab guy- *laughing* nice try though.
Me- Are you sure you still want a skate board for your birthday? With skate boards come a lot more broken bones.
Vootz- I still want a skate board, I just want all the protective equipment too.
Me- All the protective equipment in the world won't keep you from breaking honey. It helps and protects part of you, but not all of you.
Vootz- Yes, I still want to skate board. At least it's my right hand, so I don't have to do my work.
Me- Oh, you will do your work. You will just have to use your left hand. Or someone will write for you, but YOU are still solving the problems or telling them what to write.
Vootz-Oh.

So Vootz will have surgery on Tuesday. He is nervous, scared, freakin' out, has a ton of questions.

Vootz- I don't think I will be able to go to sleep.
Me- What do you mean, at your surgery?
Vootz- Yes. It takes a long time for me to fall asleep.
Me- It won't, I promise. They give you some medicine and say count back from ten. And you will go ten, niiine, eiiiigg...and you will be out.
Vootz- I don't know. I don't think it will work.
Me- It will trust me.
Vootz- Does it taste bad?
Me- Ummmm...(tell him about the I.V.? Don't tell him about the I.V.?) Nope, doesn't taste bad at all. (So NOT a lie, he won't taste a thing.)

I Kiwi, do solemnly swear to update my blog this week. Stay tuned.

Ramblings of A Chocolate Donut Deprived PHAT Wife.

Here's the deal. I started physical therapy for a disc problem in my back. I was going two times a week for four weeks. When my four weeks were over they re-evaluated me and decided I would benefit from another four weeks. So after eight weeks of therapy I was feeling pretty good and had gotten accustomed to my two days a week to spend a couple of hours alone...well not alone but with a group of really fun people who don't require me to wipe their bums or their noses. I was starting to see a nice shape show up underneath all the layers of chocolate donuts too, so I was getting kind of excited about that. After my second round of physical therapy my therapist said he could either order another 4 week session or he would print out a copy of my work out and I could continue on my own at a gym and just come in quarterly for a re-evaluation. I started thinking about it and was a little sad to lose the group of physical therapist and patients I was having so much fun with. But I had to look at it logically and not emotionally. if for no other reason than to prove to JC that I don't always make decisions based on emotion It was costing $80 a month plus gas to go down town, for physical therapy. Fitness 19 was running a special for $9.95 a month and they are only two miles away. So I told Andy, that is my therapist, been fun but gotta run! not literally of course, that is the #1 forbidden exercise for my back

So I signed up at the gym. One of my very best friends was already going there and I talked my other best friend into going too. I need support, someone who says, "uh-uh that was so not a 60 second plank! Go again maggot!" Unfortunately my two bff's are not that person. I love 'em, but good gravy I don't think either of them has a mean bone in their body. It's okay though, because I have an image in my head of what I want to look like come June, and I WILL succeed! I will do every single plank, wood chopper and wiggley baby lift without cheating because I am buff like that I am a chicken and very afraid of surgery which is the next course of action if my next re-evaluation does not show marked improvement.

I have been...right this down...are you ready? Craving my work outs. I look forward to them so much that even on Saturday, my one and only day of the week I can sleep in, I wake up and go to the gym! JC doesn't even mind having to stay with the kids on Saturday mornings either because Duh! He benefits too. Good workout + "me time" = Happy PHAT (as in Pretty Hot And Tempting) and not FAT wife + increased endorphins (you know, um, those kind of endorphins) = Happy husband. He's smart, he can do the math.

Not only am I craving my work out, I am craving good food. Not like chocolate donuts good, I mean like good for me food, like spinach! I have been trying very hard to stay away from the foods that I know I cannot just eat in moderation, like Lays potato chips. "Betcha can't eat just one!" Doritos, chocolate donuts, Sour Patch Kids, Cinnamon Jelly Hearts/bears, Heidi's, Breyer's Mint Chip, Yorks....And the foods I want that are not necessarily good for me, but I know I can just have a little and walk away and be totally fine, I take a little and walk away. For instance, um...hmm...let's see....ok...Oh face it, I am not one of those kind of people. They say, "Don't deprive yourself completely, just eat a little and walk away. If you deprive yourself you are setting yourself up for a binge." Uh-uh, can't do it. As long as I don't taste it, or smell it, I can push it out of my mind. As soon as take a bite or smell, I will eat and eat and eat until there is nothing left except a sick, bloated, sad, woman in a heap on the floor.

My friend who is suppose to be my "mean" work out buddy has not learned that about me yet. She is "one of those" kind of people. The kind who can be satisfied with a taste. She brought me Stromboli the other night for dinner. Not just the other half of hers which would have been fine paired with a salad. No, she brought me two whole Stromboli + the other half of hers! They were YUMMY!! All melty and warm! I ate until I was literally unable to swallow another bite. One and a half Stromboli later I was sick, but oh so happy, and oh so irritated with myself!

JC was hugging me after dinner the other night and here is our conversation.

Me- MMMM! Um, hunny could you do me a favor?
JC- Sure, what?
Me- Not because I find it offensive in anyway, but more delicious and tempting, could you please go brush your teeth for me. You smell like Doritos and it is really tempting me. It took every ounce of will power for me to put them on your plate without eating them and one more minute of the smell is going to do me in.
JC- Um, okay weirdo Why didn't you just have a few?
Me- It's like crack hunny! Would you tell a crack addict, just have a little? No I don't think so. Brush!
JC- Okay, Okay brushing.

It's a little insane at times, but have you seen the super cute swimsuits out this year? It is going to be oh so worth it!