This and That and A Trip to The CARdiac Mechanic

Vootz got his hard cast put on Thursday. They took off the soft splint and we saw the pins sticking out of his finger. The tech was real nice and scrubbed his hand down good with alcohol, he had been itching like crazy and ewww the smell! He felt much better after a good scrub. He got a black cast per my request, because he is a boy and it will hide the grime better. He told me when he gets his pins out in three weeks he wants the new cast to be red so his friends can sign it.

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Buzz came home today and said, "Mom, I don't want to tell you what happened at lunch recess today, but I think I should."

Me- What happened Buzz?

Buzz- A girl kissed my cheek.

Me- Who? Eva?

Buzz- Yes. I didn't want her too, but she did on her own. I told her I wasn't allowed to have kisses until I am 21, she just smiled.

Me - Okay but tell her no more kissing okay?

Buzz- Okay.

I told JC...

JC- How old is she?

Me- His age, they've been in the same class since kindergarten. She's a cute little thing, comes from a great family and has had a huge crush on Buzz for a while.

JC- She's cute and has a good family? Maybe you shouldn't discourage him.

Me- *picking chin up off the floor* BOYS!!! HOW OLD DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO HAVE A GIRLFRIEND??

Boys- At least 17 mom!

Me- AND HOW OLD DO YOU HAVE TO BE BEFORE YOU KISS A GIRL??!!

Boys- Not until we come home from our mission mom.

Me- Very good. * glares at husband*

Rub and Dub were fighting over the Toys-R-Us ad today. I told Rub to leave Dub alone, he had the ad first. Rub disappeared. I was walking down the hallway and I saw Rub out of the corner of my eye pouring aftershave on Dub's toothbrush.

I went in to his room to talk to him about it....

Me- Rub why did you poor aftershave on Dub's toothbrush?

Rub- When I aksed (See, he is smart. He is bilingual. He speaks english and ebonics.)him pwease he wouldn't chare wif me. So I aksed him pretty pwease and he still wouldn't chare wif me and then he puched me away. So I put aftershabe on his toofbrush because he was not being nice. When people say pwease you are stupposed to be nice and when they say pretty pwease you are stupposed to chare even if you don't want to.

What am I suppose to say to that?
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Dub just climbed up on the counter in the bathroom to get a drink. He didn't close the lid on the toilet first and who ever used it last forgot to flush....He's taking another shower now.
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I had my cardiac ultrasound today. The tech said, "Your motor looks good, but your spark plugs are junk."

Me- What does that mean?

Tech- Your heart and valves are looking good. No changes since your last ultrasound. But your electronics are messed up, causing your heart to misfire. In short your regulator is busted.


I think I just had a car mechanic do an ultrasound on my heart. It was cool to see it on the ultrasound screen though. I could see the heart beat wrong as I was feeling it beat wrong. Good news is there IS something wrong with me. The bad news is there IS something wrong with me. I am glad they have proof and I that I am not just crazy. I am glad they can't just say, "Oh, it's just anxiety try some Xanax." AND I am glad the rest of my heart is still looking okay and not getting worse. The really bad news is...MY ALLERGIES ARE KILLING ME!!!! and I cannot take any allergy/cold meds until I see Dr. Riz on Friday, because they mess with blood pressure and stuff. I can take one brand, but it works about as well as a TicTac, and without the benefit of the fresh breath so I will pass.

JC hurt his knee at work a couple weeks ago. He has been home in a knee immobilizer and on crutches. I love him a lot, but do not know how on earth I survived a whole year of him not having a job. He needs to go back to work so I can accomplish something.

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!

Player

Dub calling from the bath tub- Mommm! I need a dry towel.

Me- Dub there's a towel on the towel rack.

Dub- No, I used that one when I got out to get my Batmobile. It's all wet now and it will make my willie cold and then it will pee on its own.

That is when I nearly choked to death on my chocolate donut celery stick.

Rub- When I am old enough to get married like 29 or 20 or something, I won't live with you anymore mom.
Me- That's right Rub, you'll live with your wife.
Rub- Yeah, because when I marry Haley and she starts having babies that will be too much moms and dads and too much babies. I think she won't like that. She's going to have girl babies.
Me- Umm. Who's Haley Rub?
Rub-*grin* You know my wife Haley in the purple row. When I am 17 I am going to kiss her all over her face. Oh, and mom.
Me- What Rub.
Rub- I won't be able to be your Boo anymore, or sniff your face anymore. That will make her very mad.
Me- Rub could you please not, umm...you don't need to be thinking about all this right now. You are still kinda young to be talking about kissing girls and getting married.
Rub- I know mom, but you gotta plan for these kind of stuff...um mom.
Me- What Rub?
Rub- Does it make your feelings sad that I can't be your Boo?
Me- Yes, Rub it does. I am not ready for you to be someone elses Boo just yet. Do you think you could still be just my Boo until you finish a couple years of College?
Rub- We'll see mom, maybe I will just be your Boo until...Hey can we go to Checkers if I still be your Boo?
Me- You bet.
Rub- Okay can I get a Rootbeerd too if I don't kiss Haley's face?
Me- Deal.

He's got my number...and probably Haley's too.

Do You Have An Extra Staight Jacket?

JC plays online video games. The boys think their dad is pretty much the coolest person in the world. They want to be just like him and spend all their waking moments by his side. They want "fur" like his, muscles like his, to fix fire trucks like him, to drive tractors like him and to have a cool, beautiful young wife like his, okay maybe I made up that last part. Anyway Rub was watching JC fly a jet in one of his games the other night, and the jet that was flying in front of his crashed into a mountain. Here is the conversation that took place...

JC- Ooo Crash! Did you see that Rub?
Rub- Yeah. He sacwaficed himsewf!
JC- Why did he do that Rub?
Rub- Maybe he dumb.
JC-*uncontrollable laughter for the next twenty minutes, and again every time he repeats the conversation*

Rub and Dub were playing a Thomas interactive DVD game yesterday...
Dub- Go slow!
Rub- No! Fast! I want to see what happens.
Dub- Maybe you'll freak out!
I honestly don't know where they get it. The vocabulary I mean, I know where they get the "I want to see what happens" bug, and the "excitement over what might happen if you do something wreckless, like drive too fast down a curvy mountain road with your carsick little sister" bug that is all my brothers fault. When Vootz was little he use to hand things to us with a screw driver and say "how it works?" He wanted to, still wants to, take things apart and see the insides and how they worked. What makes it do what it does. My brother was the SAME way, except he'd use a hammer, then it no longer worked.

All my boys at least once a day say, "let's see what happens if.." Scientific geniuses already! That I am sure can be attributed to me, the genius part that is. We all know that I am not only a beautiful, perfect wife but also a brilliant person. I just have to go undercover in this frumpy, never got my BS degree not the same as a degree in BS which I framed and display proudly above my desk. housewife garb to hide from NASA and the photogs for People magazines 100 most beautiful people edition because I want my kids to have a normal life.

Vootz also had the "tow it up" bug. Anything and everything he could tie up was tied up to something. He would hand JC's dad a rope and say "tow it up Buppa" and they would go off and find something to tie that rope to. They "towed it up" the wagon to the bike, the dump truck to the car, the car to the Vootz. Everything got tied to something and Vootz would have a huge smile on his face and say, "Look! We towed it up" That I am sure I can blame on Buppa, if for no other reason than he obliged every time he was asked to "tow it up".

Hold the presses! Dub just gave me the funny quote of the day...
"I wish losing were winning! Then I would win all the time!"
That's my boy, always thinking.

Rain Rain go away...
I need some sunshine in my life today.
Rain Rain go away...
I am going CRAZY, white coats are going to take me away.
Rain Rain it's been 6 days of rain rain rain!
I have puking punks, I am in a funk, I need to get away.
Rain Rain go away.

On the sidewalk I want to lay
Sunshine warm me with your bright yellow ray
Swimsuit clad, cool soda in hand, on the radio my favorite band
Rain Rain go away.

Breaking News!!
I have officially gone nuts. Admitting you have a problem is the first step in recovery right? Do they have a twelve step program for moms of puking, scientific geniuses who have not seen sunshine in days? Last year at this time I was sitting in my swim suit at the pool, sun shining on my face, soaking up some vitamin D. Today I am sitting in my office, pretending there are not four kids destroying my house, pretending that I don't really need to have a diet Pepsi, or chocolate donuts, or cinnamon bears, or pizza, or McDonald's french fries dipped in hot mustard. Pretending really hard on that last one, we are still boycotting McDonalds.

I need help. Over and Out.

Department of Much Viciousness

I went to the DMV Monday. Those words really are all I need to say to describe my day and my mood on Monday. But since you are obviously bored to tears enough to come check out my long neglected blog I will elaborate a little more.

I thought if I went early, the lines might not be so bad. Here is where you are all saying, "If you would make an appointment, the lines are not so bad." I know, I know, but it was a last minute "oh JC is home, he can babysit" kind of decision. So I jumped in the car and headed to the DMV. My first indicator that I should just turn around and go home came when I turned onto "F" street and there was a traffic jam. The second indicator should have come when I realized the traffic jam was due to people waiting for parking places to open up...in the DMV parking lot. I finally made it into the lot, and like the heavens opened up and smiled down on me, a spot opened right in front of me. So what if it was the wrong way on a one way row, it was the end spot, I looked up the row and no one was coming. I could so make it! And I did and I was even parked straight after a few tries!

I grabbed my paperwork and headed to the front door, being careful not to get run down by a few really grumpy drivers. Geesh people! Don't you know road rage is the leading cause of parking lot homicide. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed? Forget your coffee on the roof of your car? Does your pantie line show? Gotta run in your hose? Hair went flat. (Sorry I couldn't help myself.) The heavens are smiling, you should be too! Ouch, no wonder he is grumpy, he is missing his other four fingers! Well at least he waved, maybe he just looks grumpy. Wow! That's must be some angry rock music she's singing with! I am glad I can't read lips, because I am pretty sure some of the words she is saying would burn my eyes.

I opened the front door and a rush of warm air hit my face, carrying with it a nauseating combination of perfumes, colognes, body odor and flatulence. I waded through the mosh pit of people and made my way to window #2 to receive my number. The lady informs me the monitors are broken so be sure to listen for your number carefully. She hands me B150 as the voice on the speaker says, "Now serving B030" Fabulous, only 120 people ahead of me.

All the chairs were taken. People were stacked 7 and 8 deep, shoulder to shoulder, standing room only. I am sure the room was at least 3x the maximum fire capacity. The room was starting spin a little. I could feel the perspiration beading up on my chest. I wiggled my way through the mosh pit toward the front door. I don't do well in crowded areas, especially hot, smelly ones. I am very claustrophobic and very demo phobic. I burst through the door and out into the fresh air. I filled my lungs with fresh, clean air...ok we know that is a lie. I filled my lungs with good ol' B-town smog. It was a relief to be outside. Then a little ol' man and a small boy walked up to me. The man started jabbering to me. At first I thought I must be having a really serious panic attack, I couldn't understand a single thing he was saying. I knew he was talking to me, but it was not making any sense. Then the boy said, "My grandpa says the speakers out here are broken. You will miss your turn." Oh, ok, fewsh! I did not totally lose it, he was speaking Spanish.

I stood in front of the door. My heart raced, my forehead was damp. I said a quick "forgive me for crowding in the parking lot I am very sorry, it was not a nice thing to do and please get me through this" prayer and stepped through the door. Just as I walked through the door, a man left the chair right beside the door. I quickly planted myself in it. Then I thought, Is this a test? Am I suppose to give this chair up to someone who was here before me? Are you trying to see if I was REALLY sorry for crowding, because when you ask for forgiveness you are not suppose to repeat the action right? Or is this an answer to my "get me through this" prayer? How about if we meet in the middle. If a little ol' lady comes in I will give up my chair, ok? Or a momma with a baby, or someone on crutches, or a ready to pop momma.

After more than two hours, a moderate panic attack, and $800.00 later I left the DMV. But not before I made a comment to the clerk about spending my $800 on fixing the outdoor speakers and the monitors. I also might have mentioned that you cannot hardly tell whether the speaker is calling letter B,C, or G. And how I thought it was horse hockey that the people, specifically the two little old ladies, who could not understand or hear their numbers being called had to get new numbers and start all over again. And that when the monitor is broken they should call the number at least twice. Also that they were certainly beyond maximum capacity and that is a fire hazard. Thank you Margret, I am sure you passed on all my helpful suggestions to your boss, or not.

There were not even any key marks on my car, or profanities written in the dust or any kind of gross body fluids on my windows or door handles. I am sure that is because mankind has elevated itself above all that pettiness and has learned to forgive and love thy parking place stealing neighbor and had nothing at all to do with the po-po parked next to me enjoying his breakfast.