Don't Shoot!

I am going to tell a story about the night I almost, coulda, shoulda, woulda, but didn't, get shot.

So I have this BFF and she is kind of, a little bit very OCD. (Sorry, I love you to bits and pieces but you are, and I know this is not news to you, so I don't feel too bad about saying it.) Tonight we will discuss her obsession with her garage door. It is only ever open long enough for her to drive in or out of the garage. I noticed it was open at about 6-ish the other night. I thought, Oh, she must have just gotten home. Then I drove by around 8-ish as I was headed to the store to pick up some...um carrots, yeah that's it carrots for that late night carrot craving, and it was open. So I called to say, "Hey just wanted to see what you were up to, by the way your garage is open are you headed out?" I got her voice mail. It says Hi this is "your BFF" somethin' somethin'. I am always tempted to say, No this is not my BFF, this is my BFF's voicemail, but I don't. Ope, where were we. Oh yes, I got her voicemail and left her a message. When I drove back by at 8:30-ish (I promise I am not a stalker, I have to pass her house to get out of the neighborhood) it was still open. So I called her...again (again not a stalker...much) and it went to voicemail...again. Something was clearly not right. She NEVER leaves her garage door open that long...especially not after dark and she NEVER ignores my calls...hardly ever. So I tucked in my children and headed over to check on her.

As I was leaving, I called again. Still no answer, so I left this message..."Hey, it's me and I have called you a few times and you are not answering and your garage door has been up all night so I am coming to check on you...DON'T SHOOT ME!!"

When I got to her house I went to the front door. All the lights were off inside. I knocked and no one answered. Naturally being female I begin thinking the worst. My thoughts went like this. She pulled in the garage and passed out in the car. I went in the garage and checked in the car. No BFF. ...or someone followed her home and kidnapped her from the garage *enter logic* she probably went somewhere with her parents and maybe she didn't realize the door didn't shut or something was in the way of it shutting and it came back up. Maybe she went in to tuck kids in bed and ended up falling asleep with them. I checked the garage door that leads inside...it's unlocked. Okay, she is home. She has to be. Went back to the front door and knocked again really loudly. No answer. Called again. No answer. Called her mom. No answer. Panicking now. Not sure what to do.

Options:

1. Hit the button to close the garage door and run and jump over the sensor like a ninja. Have I mentioned I am not much of a ninja? Yep, not a ninja. This is so not an option.

2. Hit the button that closes the garage door, go inside and let myself out the front door. Still doesn't solve the problem of, "Is she okay?"

3. Go inside and look for her. Pray she doesn't shoot me.

4. Go home and forget about it. Umm no, she'd kill me for sure.

Yes, I thought about ringing the door bell until she answered, but the mommy in me wouldn't do that, because it would wake up kids...and that is just NOT NICE! NOT NICE AT ALL! Yes, I realize had she shot me, that would probably wake up kids too, but I would rather take my chances.

Thought process as I pace back and forth from the front door to the garage door: Obviously I have no choice here, I have to go inside. Geeze...I'm gonna get shot. I'm gonna scare her to death and she's gonna shoot me. Okay, worst case scenario...She shoots me. I die and she wonders what the h e double hockey sticks I was doing in her house in the middle of the night. At least I won't have to do the dishes and laundry. Hmmmm...nope worser case scenario...She shoots me, I live. I have laundry and dishes x days incapacitated + what's already there = WORST CASE SCENARIO! Either way shot or not, she's probably gonna have to shampoo her carpets when this is all over.

Open door from garage to house. Calling out to her over and over again saying, It's just me, your friend who is randomly letting herself into your house in the middle of the night, please don't shoot me, just want to make sure you are ok, hello, please don't shoot, it's just me. Flip on the lights, head down the hall still calling out. Greeted by barking dogs. Ask the dogs where mommy is. Turn the corners at the same time to be standing in front of each other both freaked out! Hearts pounding, eyes wide, fists raised.

I explained to her why I was in her house in the middle of the night and I am not sure what freaked her out more, waking her up with the "someone is in my house" panic or the fact that she hadn't closed the garage. Anyway, all is well. The garage got closed I didn't have to worry all night and I didn't even get shot in the process...this time. Next time she will be ready because now she has moved the gun to a readily accessible location, and next time I will just ring the door bell and deal with momma fury that follows.

No. Owie.

For years I have complained to my doctor about how something is not right with me. I couldn't put my finger on any specific problem, but something, somewhere in me was wrong and it wasn't just in my head, I already know I am not quite right there. The doctor finally got tired of listening to me whine about it and decided, after he had run every other test in the book, to order an allergy panel. So I get an email from doc a couple days later. Low and behold I am allergic to milk. Anyone who knows me, knows milk is was just about my only food group. Unless of course you consider chocolate donuts or diet Pepsi food groups, WHICH I DO but have been unsuccessful in my attempts to convince the pyramid makers to see things my way. Also, those donuts...yep, contain milk!! Anyway doc says, "cut out ALL milk, milk products and milk byproducts for at least two weeks and then see how you feel. Be sure to read labels carefully!"

"Okay", says I! Thinking I will just have to cut out the milk, cheese and ice cream. How hard can that be? Well the no Breyers mint chip part might be a little difficult, but as long as it is a relatively low stress kinda time I should be okay. It's not a life threatening allergy. It's not as bad as a gluten or soy allergy. It's just milk. Then I look down and see the huge plate of Cajun Chicken Pasta in my lap, made with 2 cups of heavy cream. Guess I'll start tomorrow.

Day one: CRAP! What the heck can I eat??? EVERYTHING in my house contains milk! Bread, microwave popcorn, cereal, yogurt, Doritos, salad dressing, even the nasty dang hot dog contains milk!

Day two: This will get easier right? Dub's Heather brings over Hershey's thumbprint cookies. I might not starve. I eat around the "milk" chocolate kiss...after three cookies I remember cookies are made with butter! Well good ones are anyway, and these were goooood!! Okay, my two weeks will start tomorrow.

Day three: Made homemade milk free bread. Went shopping for milk alternatives. I've had the silk before. I like the chocolate one, but the plain and vanilla *shudders*. I could put chocolate Silk on my cereal, but because I have impressionable children who, I pray, eat better than their momma, I won't. Bought some vanilla Almond Breeze and chocolate Silk.

Day four: My Uncle crashes his plane and does not survive. Could REALLY use some pizza, chocolate donuts, Breyers mint chip, Doritos!! Can't have my comfort foods, so I opt for no food instead.

Getting use to this. Dropping weight. That alone could make this allergy worth it.

Head out of town for the funeral. Have to learn how to order my food. Toast dry. Eggs...scrambled?...nope they probably add milk. Over easy?...nope probably done in butter. Poached?...hopefully safe. Still not comfortable asking about how my food is prepared. Hope the bread is milk free. Bacon. Fruit. Diet Pepsi...yes, I know I could have had oj, but I was in bed at 1:00am and outta bed by 4:00am. Besides, that's the only comfort food I have left, leave me alone.

Several weeks pass...I think I have the hang of it. Feeling better than I have in years, maybe ever. Didn't know how bad I actually felt because I didn't know what feeling good was. My skin is clear. It's not dry and itchy. It's not breaking out. Haven't had any migraines. My stomach doesn't hurt (shhhh it. It was the milk, not the donuts and Doritos) You women know the pregnancy progression poster on the wall at the OB? You know the one that looks like the evolution poster? It shows a side view of what your body looks like as it progresses through the weeks of pregnancy....I use to look like the 20 weeks on a daily basis. Now I only look like...well not like 20 weeks, so that is progress right there. I have energy. I am sleeping really well at night and waking up early, ready to go...mostly. People notice the difference in me. I feel even better knowing it was not all just in my head.

Have an uh-oh kinda day. A slice of Pizza. A little Cake. Sick. Cramping tummy. Headache. Two days later, my face is a mess. I have been tired and grumpy. JC notices and asks, "what did you eat?" So was not worth it. I hope I remember this next time I am tempted. Need to take a note from my nephew (he can't have gluten). He sees "no, no" foods, even yummy ones like cake, and says, "No. Owie." Smart kid. I was wrong, this is as bad as a gluten allergy. Thankfully not life threatening like a nut or shellfish allergy though.

The heavens smile on me! I find a pretty good flavor of Doritos that don't contain milk. I replace my Breyer's with some sorbet...miss that creaminess, so I may have to try Lassen's for some dairy free ice cream. I hear they have a chocolate cherry one that is pretty good. Not missing my cheese bad enough yet to want to try vegan cheese. Found some vegan butter that's not too bad. Came up with a killer 10 grain bread recipe. Anyone know if they make vegan chocolate donuts? Just askin'.

Stolen E-mails

Okay...still no music but here is a little humor for your day. I stole it from an email my momma sent me. I cracked up at 20...the visual was just too much.



25 REASONS I OWE MY MOTHER

1. My mother taught me TO APPRECIATE A JOB WELL DONE .

"If you're going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning."

2. My mother taught me RELIGION.
"You better pray that will come out of the carpet."

3. My mother taught me about TIME TRAVEL .
"If you don't straighten up, I'm going to knock you into the middle of next week!"

4. My mother taught me LOGIC.
" Because I said so, that's why."

5. My mother taught me MORE LOGIC.
"If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you're not going to the store with me."

6. My mother taught me FORESIGHT.
"Make sure you wear clean underwear, in case you're in an accident."

7. My mother taught me IRONY
"Keep crying, and I'll give you something to cry about."

8. My mother taught me about the science of OSMOSIS.
"Shut your mouth and eat your supper."

9. My mother taught me about CONTORTIONISM.
"Will you look at that dirt on the back of your neck!"

10. My mother taught me about STAMINA.
"You'll sit there until all that spinach is gone."

11. My mother taught me about WEATHER.
"This room of yours looks as if a tornado went through it."

12. My mother taught me about HYPOCRISY.
"If I told you once, I've told you a million times. Don't exaggerate!"

13. My mother taught me the CIRCLE OF LIFE.
"I brought you into this world, and I can take you out."

14. My mother taught me about BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION.
"Stop acting like your father!"

15. My mother taught me about ENVY .
"There are millions of less fortunate children in this world who don't have wonderful parents like you do."

16. My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION.
"Just wait until we get home."

17. My mother taught me about RECEIVING .
"You are going to get it when you get home!"

18. My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."

19. My mother taught me ESP.
"Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you are cold?"

20. My mother taught me HUMOR.
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."

21. My mother taught me HOW TO BECOME AN ADULT.
"If you don't eat your vegetables, you'll never grow up."

22. My mother taught me GENETICS.
"You're just like your father."

23. My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
"Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?" or

24. My mother taught me WISDOM.
"When you get to be my age, you'll understand."

And my favorite:

25. My mother taught me about JUSTICE.
"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you “

Dusting Down The Cob Webs

Yikes! It's a ghost town around here. Sorry about that. I have this little idiosyncrasy...I can't blog well with out music on my head phones to block out JC gaming and the boys fighting and the cat whining...life in general. My sound card died about a month ago and so even though I have things I want to blog about...I just can't. Well, not true. I can, but I won't, because it will stink like last weeks gym socks. Please don't give up on me. I will be back soon. To tide you over here is the Dub quote of the week....

"Mom, you should throw Rub away."

"Whaaat?"

"That's a cuzz he always bees 'custing, and has stinky toots and he always steals my turn."

"Hmm."

The Stone Ages

To help Vootz keep up on his work while his hand is in a cast he has been using a tape recorder. You know the old school kind you used in first grade at the listening centers. When his teacher handed it to him along with two cassette tapes he was baffled. When she left, he looked at me and said, "Mom, what is this?"

Me- Are you kidding me? It's a tape recorder.

Vootz- How does it work?

Me- Serious?

Vootz- What are these?

Me- Oh my gosh. *laughing* The tapes you record on.

I showed him how to work it and sent him off to his room to start recording math facts. A little while later he came back frustrated.

Me- What's wrong?

Vootz- I can't find the delete button. The boys interrupted me and now their yelling is on my tape.

Me- *laughing*

He has also been using the computer to "hunt and peck" his spelling work out on. Thursday night I was giving him a spelling test...

Vootz- Mom, I don't know how you failed typing in high school. This is so easy.

Me- Um let's see. It could be that we had to use actual type writers, not computers. There was no such thing as the delete button that you used three times just to spell the word Illinois. We had to look up at a projection on the wall in front of the class not at the keys and had to type what was on the overhead. We were graded on speed and accuracy. Oh, and the fact that I needed glasses and didn't know until the last week of the semester probably didn't help either.

It's sad that my kids didn't know what a cassette recorder was. It's sad that they have never seen a typewriter, a BETA VCR, a TV with out a remote, or a rotary phone. They have never played frogger on ATARI, and they don't understand that you can't instantly see the picture you took with a 35mm camera. They have never piled 6 deep into a car with vinyl seats, no seat belts, no AC, no DVD player, or video games in July to travel thousands of miles in the spirit of family adventure. Sad. But man I love technology.

Adventures With Rub and Dub

Rub- Mom when I be a grown up I will need to go to the airport.

Me- Why?

Rub- You might not believe it, but I am going on an Indie adventure. You might not see me for a while.

Dub- YOU CAN'T GO ON AN INDIE ADVENTURE, I'M INDIE!

I tuned out the ensuing argument here lost track of the conversation here to avoid running over the kid who jumped his bike off the curb and onto the highway in front of me. The momentary distraction wasn't long enough...

Rub- Mom, did Dub go on the Last Crusade?

Dub- I'M TALKING ABOUT A LONG TIME AGO, YOU WEREN'T BORN YET!

Rub- Mom knows everything!

*Mental note...have the Tooth Fairy leave that boy a little extra cash.*

Dub- NO SHE DOESN'T! YOU'RE WRONG!

Rub- LA LA LA LA LA I'M NOT LISTENING!

Dub- MOM! Rub's not listening to my story!

Rub- You weren't even born before me.

Dub- I AM TAAALLKINGGG ABOUT A LONG TIME AGOOO. YOU WERE DE-EAD.

Rub- Then how come I am right here?

Dub- You're a ghost.

Rub- Mom am I a ghost?

Me- No Rub.

Rub- Dub you are lying!

Dub- MOM! RUB CALLED ME A LIAR!

Rub- BECAUSE YOU SAID I WAS A GHOST!

Dub- No. I changed my mind. It's just a story. I called you a ghost because you're being so happy.

Rub- I can't help it, I just can't stop being happy.

Dub- Well it's not funny.

Good Morning To You...You Live In A Zoo...

Dub is not a morning person. He does not like to be woke up before he wakes up on his own. He does not like the mornings to be noisy. He does not like to talk to anyone until he is ready, and doesn't want anyone to talk to him either. He does not like the sun to shine through the window or to have the lights turned on. He does not like to get out of his pajamas. He has been known to throw things at anyone who dares disturb him.

He likes to wake up slowly, quietly and in the dark. He will wake up and pull the covers over his head and lay there for sometimes up to an hour before he actually decides to get out of the bed. When he does finally get up he is usually in a pretty good mood as long as he was allowed to wake up on his terms. Most of the time he will bounce in and give a cheery good morning can I have "fretfist please".

Yesterday morning Dub did not get to wake up on his terms. The blinds were open, the radio was on and the house was chaotic. I was getting ready for a doctor appointment, the boys were getting ready for school, and Dub needed to get ready to go with his Aunt Nae. I waited until the very last minute to even talk to him because I knew he would be a grump. When I could wait no longer, I told him to get up, tossed his clothes to him from across the room and fled to the safety of my own room. I asked him to please get up and get dressed. A few minutes later Dub came into my room. He looked to be in an okay mood. He wasn't carrying any weapons. He was already almost dressed. So I thought, maybe he's okay.

Dub- Mom. Can you please button these pants?

Me- *Hmm a little edge to his tone, but he said please. Maybe he is okay.* Sure Dub, I'd love to button those pants.

Dub- Would you please stop being so happy. It's really not funny.

Umm guess not. We are making progress. He did not shout. He did not throw anything at me. His voice was flat, even and almost kind of emotionless...yes, I do believe we are making progress.