When I went to bed Tuesday night I had the rest of my week all laid out. Little did I know that Wednesday morning would bring total chaos to my perfectly planned week? I woke up Wednesday morning to the sound of Carter crying and saying his throat hurt. My world was officially being “rocked” because Carter NEVER gets sick.
Carter has Mark’s genes in the “getting sick” category and the only thing Carter “catches” is a runny nose on occasion. His good genes are both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he is rarely sick and a curse because when he is sick he thinks his world is coming to an end.
I called the doctors office first thing and was able to get an early appointment. Now I will be honest, I HATE taking my kids to the doctor. It’s not about the doctor as much as it is the germs! I do not consider myself a “germaphobe”, but I do like me some hand sanitizer and Clorox Wipes. I know this will sound bad, but when I walk in the door of the pediatricians’ office my suppressed obsessive compulsive disorder kicks in HIGH gear.
After an hour and a half of “don’t touch that Kate” and “that’s nasty Kate”, we left with a diagnosis of strep throat, a 3 day “leave” from school and an empty bottle of Purell.
Did I mention the 3 days at home? Technically, it is 5 days because of the weekend. Did I also mention how much Carter LOVES school and does not like to miss it? Praise God that Carter started feeling better on Thursday afternoon, but by Friday I was about to pull my hair out. The term “cabin fever” doesn’t even come close to an accurate description.
Luckily, tomorrow is Monday and Carter can return to his “happy place” also known as school and I can return to my “happy place” also known as Wal-Mart.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Beauty Sleep?
I am nursing a major pain in the neck today and I am not even referring to my children, at least not directly. I have no one else to blame, but myself. I broke one of the major rules of Casa de Crazy. I broke the rule that says you must guard your sleeping territory at all costs. I know that sounds strange, but let me explain.
When bedtime comes, we adhere to the “all for one, one for all” motto. Yes, we ALL sleep in the same bed! I know what some of you may be thinking, but desperate times call for desperate measures. When both Carter and Kate were babies, the ONLY way Mark and I could get any sleep was to let them sleep in the bed with us. Yes, that was over five years ago, but “old habits die hard”.
Over the years our sleeping “rules” have evolved so that everyone can get good nights sleep, except for maybe Mark.
Rule #1 When you get in the bed, stay in your spot (Do not ask to trade places)
Rule #2 Guard your territory at all costs (Go to the bathroom at your own risk)
Rule #3 Always keep your guard up (Literally, elbows can hit you in the face at any time)
Rule #4 Keep up with your blanket (If it makes it to the bottom of the bed, sorry)
Rule #5 The oldest person in the bed gets the least amount of assigned space (Sorry Mark)
I know that it is probably time to ship the kids off into there own bed, but somehow I don’t think that is going to be as easy as it sounds. I wouldn’t know what to do if I did not wake up in the middle of the night without Kate rubbing my ear lobes or Carter digging his toes into my back.
The time is going to come when Carter and Kate are both going to want to sleep in their own beds, but until then I think I’ll just stick to the rules and snuggle with my babies a little longer.
When bedtime comes, we adhere to the “all for one, one for all” motto. Yes, we ALL sleep in the same bed! I know what some of you may be thinking, but desperate times call for desperate measures. When both Carter and Kate were babies, the ONLY way Mark and I could get any sleep was to let them sleep in the bed with us. Yes, that was over five years ago, but “old habits die hard”.
Over the years our sleeping “rules” have evolved so that everyone can get good nights sleep, except for maybe Mark.
Rule #1 When you get in the bed, stay in your spot (Do not ask to trade places)
Rule #2 Guard your territory at all costs (Go to the bathroom at your own risk)
Rule #3 Always keep your guard up (Literally, elbows can hit you in the face at any time)
Rule #4 Keep up with your blanket (If it makes it to the bottom of the bed, sorry)
Rule #5 The oldest person in the bed gets the least amount of assigned space (Sorry Mark)
I know that it is probably time to ship the kids off into there own bed, but somehow I don’t think that is going to be as easy as it sounds. I wouldn’t know what to do if I did not wake up in the middle of the night without Kate rubbing my ear lobes or Carter digging his toes into my back.
The time is going to come when Carter and Kate are both going to want to sleep in their own beds, but until then I think I’ll just stick to the rules and snuggle with my babies a little longer.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Is That A Kangaroo?
It has been an eventful last few days at Casa de Crazy. Mark found out last week that he has to go to Australia on business. I realize that most of you are saying “Cool!”, but that was not exactly Mark’s reaction to this little adventure.
Mark is not much of a travelin’ man. Especially when it involves an airplane. I’ll never forget our honeymoon. We flew to Disney World and it was only Mark’s second time on an airplane. We boarded the plane, got settled in as much as Mark could “settle”. Then we here the captain come over the intercom, he said “Good afternoon from the flight deck, we apologize for the delay. We are currently waiting for a minor repair to be completed on the aircraft. We should be cleared for takeoff shortly after. Thanks you for your patience.” I looked over at Mark and all the color had drained out of his face. I thought he was going to pass out or crawl out the side door.
The plane finally began to taxi down the runway and the conversation for the next 55 minutes went something like this…
Mark, “What was that noise?”
Me, “Wheels going up.”
10 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s that noise?”
Me, “Wing flaps shifting.”
15 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s that noise?”
Me, “It’s the beverage cart for Pete’s sake!”
15 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s THAT noise?”
Me, “Wheels going down, Mark.”
Mark, “Going down? Why? Why are they going down? Is something wrong?”
Me, “If you want to get back on solid ground, the wheels need to go down.”
Mark, “What? What do you mean?”
Me, “We are landing you big wimp!”
I feel so sorry for the poor soul sitting next to him on this trip. I am thinking that some medication may be required.
Mark is not much of a travelin’ man. Especially when it involves an airplane. I’ll never forget our honeymoon. We flew to Disney World and it was only Mark’s second time on an airplane. We boarded the plane, got settled in as much as Mark could “settle”. Then we here the captain come over the intercom, he said “Good afternoon from the flight deck, we apologize for the delay. We are currently waiting for a minor repair to be completed on the aircraft. We should be cleared for takeoff shortly after. Thanks you for your patience.” I looked over at Mark and all the color had drained out of his face. I thought he was going to pass out or crawl out the side door.
The plane finally began to taxi down the runway and the conversation for the next 55 minutes went something like this…
Mark, “What was that noise?”
Me, “Wheels going up.”
10 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s that noise?”
Me, “Wing flaps shifting.”
15 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s that noise?”
Me, “It’s the beverage cart for Pete’s sake!”
15 minutes later…
Mark, “What’s THAT noise?”
Me, “Wheels going down, Mark.”
Mark, “Going down? Why? Why are they going down? Is something wrong?”
Me, “If you want to get back on solid ground, the wheels need to go down.”
Mark, “What? What do you mean?”
Me, “We are landing you big wimp!”
I feel so sorry for the poor soul sitting next to him on this trip. I am thinking that some medication may be required.
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
It's A Southern Thing
I was driving Carter to school this morning and we were listening to the radio when the D.J. came on the air with the “question of the day”. Today’s question was “What is your biggest pet peeve?” Immediately I thought of five, but what really got me was the first lady that called in with her peeve. She said that see was born and raised in the south, but she could not stand it when a stranger or even an acquaintance called her “honey” or “sweetheart”.
Seriously? I couldn’t believe it. The D.J. asked her again if she was sure she was from the south and the caller said yes, but she thought those “terms of endearment” were demeaning. Seriously? Not calling someone “honey” or “sweetheart” in the south is like not saying “bless her heart” before you start to say something not so nice about someone.
I am very well aware that I use too many “southern” expressions and I am really trying to cut back for the sake of my children’s future education…I’ll explain. A few weeks ago I had a conversation with Carter’s teacher and she began to tell me about Carter’s last trip to the library. Carter had picked out a book that did not have a bar code on it. He took the book over to the librarian and said “Excuse me ma’am, I really want to check this book out, but it does not have a "thingy ma jigger" on it.” Apparently, Carter’s choice of descriptive terms caused the librarian to almost shoot coffee out her nose.
Honey I have got to cut back!
Seriously? I couldn’t believe it. The D.J. asked her again if she was sure she was from the south and the caller said yes, but she thought those “terms of endearment” were demeaning. Seriously? Not calling someone “honey” or “sweetheart” in the south is like not saying “bless her heart” before you start to say something not so nice about someone.
I am very well aware that I use too many “southern” expressions and I am really trying to cut back for the sake of my children’s future education…I’ll explain. A few weeks ago I had a conversation with Carter’s teacher and she began to tell me about Carter’s last trip to the library. Carter had picked out a book that did not have a bar code on it. He took the book over to the librarian and said “Excuse me ma’am, I really want to check this book out, but it does not have a "thingy ma jigger" on it.” Apparently, Carter’s choice of descriptive terms caused the librarian to almost shoot coffee out her nose.
Honey I have got to cut back!
Monday, September 22, 2008
Is It Time To Eat?
Well, I have started a new diet today and to be honest…I’m starving to death. I am beginning to believe the lack of food is affecting my brain because I am having visions of dancing bread. I’d give my next pay check (if I actually got one) for a cracker. I keep telling myself that I need to get my mind on something else. I even went as far as calling my mom and telling her about my carbohydrate fantasies hoping she would step in like an AA sponsor and lead me down the right path. Needless to say, mom came through. Hang on…I’ll explain.
I am very well aware of “Thou shall not covet”, but we all know we are guilty of it on occasion. Having said that, let me take you back a few years around six to be exact. I worked with a girl that was the picture of perfect. For story purposes lets’ call her “Courtney“. She was beautiful, thin, had a great career, and super wealthy. The career and wealth did not nearly impress me as much as the thin and beautiful part. She was the kind of person that seems to “look down” on those that were less than physically perfect. I can even remember my excitement when I found out she was pregnant. I felt surely she would get a stretch mark or something!
The most memorable conversation I ever had with “Courtney” was when she was about 8 ½ months pregnant. We were sitting in a conference room with another female coworker when “Courtney” began to talk about feeling miserable. My ears perked up because I thought she would start to complain of swelling, heartburn or something, but no. She began to complain about how her thong underwear was getting to tight and if she did not have that baby soon she was going to have to resort to buying a bigger size. Now, I am not even going there about the thong thing. That is a whole other blog all together. What got me was that she was about to drop a baby and was still wearing the same size underwear!
How does this help my problem you might ask? Well, my mom called me earlier today to tell me that she saw a recent picture of “Courtney” and guess what she looks like she has gained about sixty pounds! Lord forgive me for my excitement. I know it is wrong of me to feel better, but somehow having this information made my starvation seem manageable.
Who’s up for a salad?
I am very well aware of “Thou shall not covet”, but we all know we are guilty of it on occasion. Having said that, let me take you back a few years around six to be exact. I worked with a girl that was the picture of perfect. For story purposes lets’ call her “Courtney“. She was beautiful, thin, had a great career, and super wealthy. The career and wealth did not nearly impress me as much as the thin and beautiful part. She was the kind of person that seems to “look down” on those that were less than physically perfect. I can even remember my excitement when I found out she was pregnant. I felt surely she would get a stretch mark or something!
The most memorable conversation I ever had with “Courtney” was when she was about 8 ½ months pregnant. We were sitting in a conference room with another female coworker when “Courtney” began to talk about feeling miserable. My ears perked up because I thought she would start to complain of swelling, heartburn or something, but no. She began to complain about how her thong underwear was getting to tight and if she did not have that baby soon she was going to have to resort to buying a bigger size. Now, I am not even going there about the thong thing. That is a whole other blog all together. What got me was that she was about to drop a baby and was still wearing the same size underwear!
How does this help my problem you might ask? Well, my mom called me earlier today to tell me that she saw a recent picture of “Courtney” and guess what she looks like she has gained about sixty pounds! Lord forgive me for my excitement. I know it is wrong of me to feel better, but somehow having this information made my starvation seem manageable.
Who’s up for a salad?
Monday, September 15, 2008
Maintenance
I am a firm believer that everyone at some point in their life needs a little maintenance. What do I mean by maintenance? Little things like coloring your hair or just wearing a little makeup. The best advice I have ever heard about maintenance was from my pastor. His advice was in regards to women wearing makeup, he said “If the barn needs to be painted, by all means paint the barn.” Excellent advice!
Some people require more maintenance than others. We call these people “high maintenance”. Don’t laugh because I too am “high” maintenance. We require a little bit more than makeup and hair color. We get manicures, pedicures; eyebrow waxing, spray tans, massages and some of us have even had our eyebrows tinted! I think those of us who are “HM” simply can not help ourselves. It is in our genes! Heaven knows it is in my blood! My mom has started Kate very early; she took Kate to have her nails and toes done for her third birthday. Kate loved it! (I love you, mom!)
I have said all of this to ask a simple question. Is there anything wrong with being “high maintenance”? Is it not better than any maintenance at all? In my opinion, people need a little more paint, wax or polish whichever it might be. What do you think? Should we remodel the barn or what?
Some people require more maintenance than others. We call these people “high maintenance”. Don’t laugh because I too am “high” maintenance. We require a little bit more than makeup and hair color. We get manicures, pedicures; eyebrow waxing, spray tans, massages and some of us have even had our eyebrows tinted! I think those of us who are “HM” simply can not help ourselves. It is in our genes! Heaven knows it is in my blood! My mom has started Kate very early; she took Kate to have her nails and toes done for her third birthday. Kate loved it! (I love you, mom!)
I have said all of this to ask a simple question. Is there anything wrong with being “high maintenance”? Is it not better than any maintenance at all? In my opinion, people need a little more paint, wax or polish whichever it might be. What do you think? Should we remodel the barn or what?
Monday, September 8, 2008
R.S.V.Peeved (Thoughts on Southern Etiquette)
The term R.S.V.P. comes from the French expression “répondez, s'il vous plaît“, meaning, “please respond”. Southern translation, call me and let me know if you are coming or not! Now that we have that covered, I have only one question. Why don’t people do it? I am not saying that I have not ever forgotten to respond, but I do 98% of the time.
This leads me to my first question. Why? Why do people not R.S.V.P.? I have given this a little bit of thought and I have come up with a theory. People “assume”. People just think that you know whether they are going to come to the event. You know I am right. How many times have you done the same thing? Let’s say for example, your best friend sends you an invitation to her husband’s 40th birthday party. Should you “assume” that she knows you will be there? NO! Would you anyway? YES!
So what does this mean? Well, if you do not respond to your best friend’s invitation, she might call you to see if you are coming. What if she were not your best friend? She might think you are not coming because you do not like her, you have something better to do or she may think you did not get the invitation and that opens up a whole other assortment of problems.
This can also cause awkward social situations. What if I am at the mall and I run into someone that did not show up to a party I had a few days before? What am I suppose to say? I know what I would really want to say. “So, where were you Saturday night?” “Did you have something better to do”? What if the situation were reversed? What would you say? “Sorry I could not make it to the party, I had myself admitted to Westcott (if you’re not from around here, it’s the local looney bin) a few days before the invitation came and I just got out yesterday.”
At first glance, the dilemma of the R.S.V.P. seems simple, just do it. However, if you happen to forget, remember always be prepared to grovel or have a good excuse tucked away somewhere safe. You NEVER know when you will need one.
This message is dedicated to the refrigerator full of hotdogs and unopened dip from Kate’s birthday party this weekend.
This leads me to my first question. Why? Why do people not R.S.V.P.? I have given this a little bit of thought and I have come up with a theory. People “assume”. People just think that you know whether they are going to come to the event. You know I am right. How many times have you done the same thing? Let’s say for example, your best friend sends you an invitation to her husband’s 40th birthday party. Should you “assume” that she knows you will be there? NO! Would you anyway? YES!
So what does this mean? Well, if you do not respond to your best friend’s invitation, she might call you to see if you are coming. What if she were not your best friend? She might think you are not coming because you do not like her, you have something better to do or she may think you did not get the invitation and that opens up a whole other assortment of problems.
This can also cause awkward social situations. What if I am at the mall and I run into someone that did not show up to a party I had a few days before? What am I suppose to say? I know what I would really want to say. “So, where were you Saturday night?” “Did you have something better to do”? What if the situation were reversed? What would you say? “Sorry I could not make it to the party, I had myself admitted to Westcott (if you’re not from around here, it’s the local looney bin) a few days before the invitation came and I just got out yesterday.”
At first glance, the dilemma of the R.S.V.P. seems simple, just do it. However, if you happen to forget, remember always be prepared to grovel or have a good excuse tucked away somewhere safe. You NEVER know when you will need one.
This message is dedicated to the refrigerator full of hotdogs and unopened dip from Kate’s birthday party this weekend.
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