Don't Do It!

I took Kinsey to the airport today. She is headed to Florida to visit friends and frolic on the oily beaches. As you can see she is very sad to be going.



Oh...who am I kidding...she couldn't get out of here fast enough!



As we were pulling into the airport, I told her that I didn't feel good about her going so she was just going to have to cancel her trip. She said "no way mom, I'm not going to let that audience* in your head keep me from going to Florida." Darn kid sure is getting sassy!

I let her go, but I didn't want to. A word of advice to my friend (Kristi) who is deathly afraid of flying: try to get over it before your kids are able to fly on their own. It is much harder to put your kids on the flying death trap than it is to put yourself on one. Trust me on this!

*You know the audience that screams "don't go in there" at all suspenseful movies! I have one in my head that tells me not to watch Twilight movies and to never do anything scary!

You're Not Old, Ma'am

I took my daughter and her friend shopping today. She was looking for some shorts...preferably some that were more than an inch below her fanny. We went into the local teeny bopper store and started looking around. I picked up a pair of shorts that were long enough but had a golf ball size hole in each pant leg right below the front pockets. I was giving them a disapproving look when she sarcastically gasped and said "show some skin?" I said something like "watch it little missy or I'll take you home right now and give you a modesty lesson!" Yes...I said "little missy."

I am not a shopper. I like to get in and get out, but my daughter likes to take her time. I browsed through the clothing quickly and decided that I was too old to wear the flowered leggings and printed t-shirts that were being sold there. About that time, an employee asked if he could help me, ma'am? Yes, he called me ma'am.

I was finished browsing so I found a bench to sit on while they looked around and tried things on. The songs playing on the radio were about being 15 and hating everything. I sat and wondered when I had gotten so old. Just about that time I glanced over to see a pair of pink and black undies with a teeny tiny bow on the back. It made me wonder when they started putting bows on the backside instead of the front. Yes, I needed to sit down and ponder the placement of bows.

After a few minutes, she was ready for me to pay for her shorts...the ones without the holes. I declined when the employee asked if I'd like to purchase their perfume. Perfume gives me a headache. Yes, I said headache.

As I was walking to the door a different employee asked me if I was finding everything ma'am. I said "yes". I was waiting by the door when he said "you look like you are ready to leave." I told him that his store made me feel very old. He told me that I was not old and they had clothes for everyone. I told him he just called me ma'am, that makes me old. He assured me that he calls everyone ma'am. As we were leaving, he made a point of calling my daughter and her friend ma'am. No, I don't believe he calls everyone ma'am.

Tomorrow I will start looking for support hose and a cane. At least I still have my teeth!

It's Great To Be

Carson's birthday is Friday. He had some visitors come over to welcome him into cub scouts. He enjoyed talking to them. He told them all about his family and Spongebob. He showed them how to shoot hoops. He taught them some sign language. He charmed them and was a perfect gentleman. They pulled out the donuts and he screamed for joy. He loves donuts! Then they had to leave so he walked them to the door and said "thank you". After they left, he ran into the kitchen and ate his eight!

Only Floss the Teeth You Want To Keep

Gary decided the last week of school that he would make dental appointments for all of us. It may have been my fault because he caught me rubbing my jaw and asked if I had a sore tooth. I think I said something like my jaw keeps popping so I think I might have TMJ or a cavity that has gotten infected, which is slowing making it's way up to my brain and will probably kill me any day now. He told me I should make an appointment to see his dentist because he is a very nice man. I said no thank you I'd rather die of a brain infection than go see a dentist.

He took that to mean that he should make appointments for all of us. He set mine for 8:00 on a Monday morning. That right there tells me he doesn't love me. Who would set an appointment for someone they love on a Monday 8 am appointment? Hasn't he heard that song "Monday, Monday, can't trust that day?!" I went...against my better judgment.

The last time I went to the dentist, I had to have a cavity filled. I told them ahead of time that I get a little anxious as in shaking uncontrollably through the entire procedure at the dentist. They didn't seem to care although they did get me head phones so I could hear what was playing on the TV above my head. So while the dentist was drilling holes in my head while I shake uncontrollably I watch and listened as a crab was pecked to death by a seagull. Somehow that seemed symbolic. Everyone else tells me they get to watch shows like Full House, but not me. I guess the dentist thought the best way to deal with my anxiety was to show me that it could be worse...I could be pecked to death by a seagull. Being drilled to death by a dentist is a much better way to go!

So, I get my teeth squeaky clean with only a minimal amount of shaking. The dentist I go to always checks my blood pressure before he does anything. When they checked mine they said something like "whoa...did you take your medicine this morning?" When I said no they wanted to know if I had any with me. I didn't, but I told them not to worry because as soon as I leave this place it will be back to normal. The dentist came in and said "word on the street is that you get anxious at the dentist." Then he proceeded to tell me that I had two cavities that needed to be filled. "Don't worry though he says, I give great shots" I had even read a review about him on the internet and someone said "he gives great shots." None of that was comforting to me.

So, my appointment was set and I went back for my fillings. I think I may have said something like "I'm like a lamb off to the slaughter" when I said goodbye to Gary. This time I took my medicine but it didn't seem to help, my blood pressure was still way to high. They sit me in a chair in front of a TV that has the Today show playing. At that moment in the show there was a man being interviewed that had just been mauled by a bear. He had scars all over him and a patch over one eye. Then they warned us that some images might be disturbing as they showed what he looked like after the bear got him. Yeah, dentist man, that helps this over-anxious girl to feel calm before going under the drill.

So he came in gloating on his ability to give good shots, grabbed my cheek, stuck the needle in and yowza! He hit a nerve! He says yeah, that happens sometimes. Then he stuck the needle in again and hit the nerve again. Ouch! All this time it feels like there is an earthquake in his office because I am shaking so much. He keeps trying to comfort me by telling me that now that the shots are done nothing will hurt so I should just sit back and relax. Yeah...he doesn't know me very well. To his credit, he is one of the nicest dentists I have ever had. All the other dentists I've had just ignored my discomfort. The last one seemed to like to watch the seagull destroy the crab more than he liked watching what he was doing. This dentist took the time to tell me what he was doing, what it would sound like, and if I needed a break just let him know. Normally, I appreciate such kindness, but I have to admit I was thinking "just shut-up and get this done so I can get out of here." I survived, but now every time I fall asleep someone starts drilling on my teeth. I haven't had a good night's sleep since.

Oh, and to add insult to injury, Gary made appointments for everyone. I have been back and forth to that dentist for the past three weeks. Gary sure does know how to ruin a summer! One child had to have his wisdom teeth taken out, two have cavities, and one needs braces. The child that NEVER remembers to brush his teeth had no cavities. Is that fair?! Oh, and that jaw pain I was having? That's from clenching my teeth all the time. Apparently, I'm stressed. I wonder why?!

Naptime!

The other day when I was out getting the mail, my neighbor was finishing her run while pushing something similar to this (when I say similar, I mean it looked nothing like this except that it had a place for 6 babies to sit):

She has 5 children under the age of 3 and she was out jogging with them. She wasn't even huffing and puffing...she actually had a smile on her face like she was enjoying it. I said hi and then went back to my house. Just watching her made me tired. I have to climb several stairs to get to my front door. I was huffing and puffing when I came inside. I decided I should probably lay down and take a nap. Excercise sure is exhausting!

Public Service Announcement

One day you might wake up and decide that today will be the day that you clean your nasty bathroom. So you spray everything down with your cleaner of choice. Mine is CLR Kitchen and Bath. Then you will start to clean one thing at a time usually letting the grossest things like your shower and toilet soak a little longer. Then after several minutes you might decide to walk into the shower to clean the walls before you clean the floor because, you know, it just makes sense to go from top to bottom. Well, that might cause your foot to slip right out from under you and even though Mr. Clean looks strong he will not come out of his magic eraser to save you. That will cause your life to flash before your eyes and you will see yourself in the emergency room with a broken head, back, arm or other limb. If you're lucky, your arm might get caught on the faucet which might save you from falling but will leave you with a nasty bruise. The downside to that though, may be that the faucet will bend ever so slightly so it makes it hard to turn on the water. Which will cause your husband to have to do some plumbing. Your manly husband might then whimper and say something like "I hate plumbing". That might lead to some colorful language spoken by your normally calm husband when said plumbing does not go as planned. It will not make things better to say something like "but we have a clean bathroom" because at that moment your husband will wish that he had a dirty bathroom with no plumbing problems. He might even say something like "honey, why don't you just stay in bed next time you get the urge to clean" or "just leave the shower to me next time, it's too dangerous for you to clean." You will be more than happy to oblige because after all, wasn't that your plan in the first place? To try and figure out a way to get your husband to clean the bathroom?

You're welcome!

My Life Purpose Stinks

Last night Carson came into my room saying "ow" and holding out his hand. My job in that situation is to kiss it and make it better so I did. As I was kissing the injured finger I got a whiff of poop. Oh, and did I mention that when he came into my room with his injured finger he was completely naked?! I quickly came to the conclusion that the naked boy and poop smell were a cause for alarm so I sent Carson to the bathroom and asked him what he did with his clothes. He doesn't speak very clearly but from the inflection in his voice I determined that he said "I dunno!" So off I went on a hunt through the house looking for clothes with poop on them. I found them upstairs in the bathroom. Phew! No poop stains or smears anywhere but the bathroom. Bless his heart, he had tried to clean up his mess. He had swished his poopy underwear in the toilet just like his mommy does (because I have a voice running through my head that sounds an awful lot like my husband that says we can't throw away those underwear we must wash them!) It made me smile to think of how thoughtful Carson was to clean up his own mess......until I realized that the little hand I had just kissed had been swishing poopy underwear in the toilet only moments before it touched my lips. That's when it hit me. I have been wiping poop from bottoms for over 18 years. That is my purpose in life...to wipe bottoms. I just have to say...my purpose in life stinks!!