Bill Cosby on the brain....

Today, I spent four hours in a dentist chair. It was delightful. Really.....You know that my dentists has massage chairs to sit in while they work in your mouth? Yes, it wasn't so bad.

So this keeps going through my mind while I am there.


The Wild Child had a birthday this week. So I am planning this weekend to do her birthday post. Oh the blogging fodder that comes on birthdays.

I survived.......sort of....

That post-op appointment I was so dreading, is finally over. You know the one. I arrive on time and so of course, this means that the doctor is running behind. I am almost having a panic attack because I know I have to meet with this doctor to go over lab results and what the next steps are for the insanity that I have decided to undertake. Minutes tick by and I have to remind myself to breathe. Oh the stress. Finally, his cute little nurse comes to get me. For once I don't mind stepping on the scale. It is at least something to take my mind off of what can only be the second most embarrassing moments of my life. We get back to the exam room, she takes my vitals and asks why I am so nervous. I look her in the eye and ask, "Did you hear what I called Him?" She looks confused for a minute and then starts to laugh.

"So you are the one who gave him that name." She's still laughing.

After about half a second the doctor walks in. I can't even bring myself to look up. Then he says something and I am required to make eye contact or be rude. The man is chuckling. He says to me, "You know, I have a funny job. Just the nature of what I do can be funny. But that is the funniest thing I have ever heard."

Turns out the hospital staff now call him VW. He thinks the new name has elevated him to a new level of respect. He's writing a book and using the name. "The Va..na Whisperer, Tales of a Utah Gynecologist." When you see it hit the book stands, you will know who he is.

So, ya, all that and I have decided that I may try some infertility treatments to continue the torture. Somebody, please tell me......what am I thinking?

Birthday wishes!

Today is one of my favorite days of the year. Really. Today is the day my sister-in-law, who might as well be just my sister, other than my brother married her and that would be gross, joined this world. So HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NICOLE!!!! You know I love you, like you are my sister.

Nicole is the person who introduced me to blogs and what they are all about. I can never thank her enough for that. Nicole has a very funny, off beat, sense of humor that I have come to need a weekly dose of. She has three beautiful, funny rugrats, that keep her busy. If you have a minute, please stop in a tell her Happy Birthday.

Not addicted!

My neighbor across the street, told me this tale of her 2 year old son. This son we will call Ryan to protect his innocence.

You see Ryan woke yesterday morning requesting chocolate with a certain amount of persistence. There was a bit of a tantrum involved. When it was explained that there was no chocolate around to be had, my two year old friend insisted there was some in his pocket. When this failed to produce the desired out come, he thought maybe there was some in someone else's pocket. (I want pockets like that. Chocolate in them whenever the whim hits.)

After some time, Ryan's dad was able to calm him down. His Dad had him seated to eat some cold cereal when one of his parents mentioned, "You have a problem buddy. You are addicted."

Sweet Ryan's response, "I'M NOT ADDICTED!" and then followed by a whispered, "I'm not addicted."

Ryan, my little buddy, I'm not addicted either, but if you need a fix, I live across the street. I can hook you up.

Did I mention it snowed this week?

Do You List This Skill on a Resume?

I was stumbling around blog land when I found this today:





I am just not sure what to say....... Well other than I just can not stop watching it. The first time I laughed. The second time I smiled. The third, I feel a little disturbed. Fourth, I wonder why I keep watching it. Fifth time I think I will put it on my blog so I can watch it and find it anytime I want. Someone, please, make me look away.

Keys, where art thou?

You ever have one of "those" days? Well I have had the scatter-brained-half-sister of "one of those days."


You see, a week ago yesterday my keys went missing. Of course, the Rocket Scientist has a back up pair, but that can be problematic too. For instance like today, when the weather is snowing in buckets and he car pooled out to his job in the middle of nowhere with the spare set. Yep, that is a problem. Since my kids go to a charter school, and I have so many, car pooling isn't an option. This means that all four Sea Monkeys are here all day long. I had the privilege of calling the school and explaining why my children wouldn't be there. I am certain this will win me the "Mother of the Year" award.



Now, in regards to these missing keys: My friend Wendy offered to send over a metal detector to see if we could locate this jangling icon of freedom. I have contemplated taking her up on it. We do have a place to hang our keys when you walk in. I almost always hang mine there. This is a great plan for putting things in the same place all the time. Well, that is until My Son and the Wild Child grew tall enough to reach the keys. I have found keys in all sorts of places. The bathroom drawer, in the ignition of my van (fortunately that was the house key), hiding in the living room under some pillows with half of my missing chewing gum, or the time I found them in someone's underwear drawer. This, by all means, is not an all inclusive list, just some of the most recent. Truth be told, it could be all me. I may have been so distracted with all that was going on that day, I may have misplaced them all by myself this time. Anyway, wish me luck.......I am going to need it today.



Ooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyyyssss, where are you? Still looking.

What are you afraid to eat?

Seems that My Son is the one giving me the blogging material this week. He is a funny, quirky kid. He has some sensory issues that makes his quirks and sense of humor a little more humorous to the rest of us. For instance, he learned a long time ago that there are textures he is not fond of. If he doesn't want to eat it, he will gag himself and refund. It took me years to figure out that he could indeed eat yogurt and mashed potatoes. I clued in one day when he was eating frosting the exact same texture as the type of yogurt I was trying to get him to eat. It was amazing....no gagging or refunding. So now when he tries this, to get out of eating something healthy, I remind him that I am on to him, and he better not or I will give him a second helping.

On the topic of food. He decides if he is going to like something by licking it. Kind of gross, I know. However, this system seems to work for him. I have had to make a point of, "If you licked it, it's yours and you better take a couple of bites."

So when the following commercial came on Saturday morning and My Son ran upstairs yelling "no" and covering his ears, I had to chuckle. Now you all need to understand, this kid would watch Power Rangers, Kung Fu Panda, and Shrek all day, if I let him. He loves the Spy Kids movies. He is not afraid of a bit of action on the TV.



So I had to ask him, "You don't like the commercial or the cereal?"



His emphatic reply was, "I don't eat this. Scare me."



I really wonder what is going through his head when he watches this commercial.





You all want to know the best part? There is a box of this in my pantry. Shhhhhhh, don't tell My Son.

Genuine Care

Is this the most interesting picture you have ever seen, or what? Turns our perspective is everything.

As many of you know, my grandmother passed away a few weeks ago. At her services there were these little packages lining the pews. As we entered the chapel, My Son sees these and starts to collect them. He is behind me, so I do not realize this until I turn around to sit down. When I go to ask him why he has collected all the tissue off of the benches, he proudly announces, "Popcorn, Mom, Popcorn." Popcorn, now that would have been "Genuine Care" to My Son.

I let him keep one and make him pass the rest back down aisle where he has collected them. Being that he is a little boy and all, makes all this fuss and crying over "Grandma with the White Hair," while he is sure that she is just sleeping, starts to look for further ways to entertain himself. "So, if this package is not microwave popcorn and is truly tissue like my mom says," I see cross his face. I am beginning to worry what his next move is. I am very touched by my cousin's sweet sentiments in regards to my grandmother when I realize that My Son is now systematically stuffing every tissue in his little package in his nose. I guess the tissue is "Genuine Care" for everyone after all.

When in Rome....don't eat Mexican Food

You remember how my sister, Kim, and I got to go to Huntsville, Alabama, for five glorious days of very little responsibility and slightly warmer weather? I tell you, that needs to be an annual trip.


Anyway, the first night we are there, we decide to go to a Mexican food establishment that everyone there loves. In retrospect, I should have never assumed that Alabama would be known for this kind of food. Especially since I have lived in both Arizona and California. The atmosphere in this place is really cool. It feels like a border town cantina. The place is packed and it doesn't smell bad either. The Rocket Scientist has eaten here a few times as well, when has been on travel down there. He has always contended that it is just not that good. But while in Rome....., right?

Cheese enchiladas sound fabulous. I'm thinking, you can't mess these up. It's cheese, corn tortillas and enchilada sauce. Fairly safe dish. My enchiladas come and I am starving. They look kind of funny to me. I take a bite and then a few more bites. They are not overly offensive, maybe because I was so hungry. BUT....Seriously, I could have made my enchiladas at the 7-eleven if I had brought my own tortillas. You know the nacho, processed, liquid cheese on the inside, with more of it on the outside, with a side of canned re-fried beans and a Rice-a-Roni version of Mexican rice. I'm not exaggerating. After I have sampled it all, I really start to look around. I notice they actually use the boxes and cans of these products in their decorating.

So my advice is this....When in Rome, I mean Alabama, eat the BBQ! Big Bob Gibson's in Decatur, rocked. In fact, as I type this, this morning I am actually craving their coleslaw, ribs and lemon pie.

This is not a paid advertisement. Just the rambling of a half medicated, hungry woman.

Blogging, Under the Influence.....

I had surgery and as I was getting my discharge orders today they told me not to drive, make big decisions or operate heavy machinery. They said nothing about blogging, but maybe they should have.

You see, the procedure I had done today is one that is not usually discussed in mixed company, but somethings you just need to purge and get it out of your system and blame it on the drugs. So I have had some female problems for about a year and it was time to "fix" the problem. It required some "taking-a-look" and "cleaning up" so to say.

I was supposed to do this at the end of month, but my body insisted that I do it right away or risk becoming anemic at a rapid pace. So yesterday after a few calls, my really cool Doctor hooked me up today.

Now, yesterday when I went in for my pre-op appointment my doctor had lost his voice. Laryngitis if you will. Listening to him whisper to everyone was cracking me up. Not that losing your voice is funny, but the thoughts associated with that in my head were. So when I meet with the doc before surgery today, his voice is slightly worse than the day before. Thus, giving my brain more comedy, though not really appropriate comedy. I was all good about keeping it to myself until the anesthesiologist gave me some really good stuff in my IV. (Seriously, I get how people could get addicted to some things. Oh the relief of the worry.) Anyway, so after the good stuff, I couldn't keep it to myself. So you all have heard of the Horse Whisperer and the Dog Whisperer right? You know where this is going right. Yes, I did...... I called him the "Va..na Whisperer". Apparently, I was telling everyone and anyone. And anyone I didn't tell, the other surgical staff did.

So, yes, this gets back to said really cool Doctor. When he meets with the Rocket Scientist while I am in recovery, he whispers, "Did you know she is calling me the Va..na Whisperer?" Of course he is laughing. The RS really laughs and says that he does know that. The doc then asks if that means he can make non-compliant va..na's compliant. Ya.....and I get to look this guy in the eye in two weeks for my post-op. Do you think it's too late to suck all of that back in my head?

You may have already seen this.

A friend of mine posted this on Facebook. It was such a happy story, I had to post it here.


Happy Weekend!

Conspiracy Theory? or Not?

Do you remeber the movie the Pelican Brief? I loved that movie. And, I can't help myself, I love a good conspiracy theory. Ya, I don't know what that is about, but there are others of you out there that like 'em too. You know who you are. So when my brother and his wife suggested we read a few books, it got me thinking. Something that at the times I truly neglect to do. (think about money and how it works)
As I read some of these books I began to look at money differently. Enough so, that I quit freaking out about money in general and read everything I could get my hands on the topic for about six months.
Then a few weeks ago, my brother sent me this link. Which really got me thinking. So I started surfing the web and found these:

and this:

So tell me, what do you think? Is it a conspiracy theory of fact? If it's fact, we can't live like that. Can we? I thought slavery in the the United States was abolished in 1865.?

Humor me please......I would love to hear what you think on this topic. If you don't want to share your perspective on this issue, I undrestand. Maybe then you could tell me what your favorite conspiracy theory of all time is. You know you want to. Tell me, already.

Collections.......

I actually wrote this last night. I am trying to pace myself. :)

Each day comes with it's own challenges and it's own humor. A lot of the times, the humor comes out of the challenges. In fact, I have noticed I have a much better sense of humor when I am being challenged, so to say. Now I tell you this knowing that this story may be TMI for some of you. For that I am sorry. If you are concerned, you should quit reading now.

Today the Rocket Scientist and the Little Jamaican went to see the doctor. Now the Rocket Scientist has an acute case of gout making him very miserable and the Little Jamaican has a very "messy" sinus infection. I am not Wonder Woman, but it would be helpful. Since I am just a regular chick, I drop the RS and the Little Jamaican off at the doctor so I can run the Wild Child to school and pick up some new shoes for the Little Jamaican. (See Something in the Air) I watch my sweet RS hobble up the walk on crutches helping the Little Jamaican get in the door. I feel a twinge of guilt that I can not be several places at once.

I then feed the Wild Child lunch, drop her off at school, take My Son to the store to buy some replacement clothes and shoes. Fortunately, the doctor's office is not horrendously busy and I get a call from the RS's mobile phone. It's the Little Jamaican.

She tells me in her little stuffy nose voice, "Momb day took daddy's butt out."

I start snickering, "What was that Sweetie? I'm not sure what you are saying."

"Mom, day took daddy's blutt oup," she repeats.

After talking to the RS I found out he had blood drawn for labs and they were almost ready to be picked up. As I get to the doctor's, the Rocket Scientist asks if I will come in and help him bring a few things out. He had prescriptions, the Little Jamaican and a large "jug." That is a bit to handle when not feeling well and more to handle when you are "crunches" as the Sea Monkeys call them. Upon walking into the office the Little Jamaican runs toward me with the "jug." "Momb dis is for collwections."

"Really Sweetie, collections. Hmmmm. What do you suppose Daddy is suppose to collect in there?"

"I fink fings wike sea shells and bwirds," was her innocent reply.

Poor Rocket Scientist.....sounds like there is a days worth of labs he still has to supply.

Something in the air....

Did you all read this post? You know, I was reading what Jen had to say today about her son and a pair of scissors he was returning to her, when I realized it was time to get some clothes for two of my kids in the shower. As I walked into one of the bedrooms, the Wild Child jumps out of the closet. looking very guilty, with a pair of scissors that had been on my dresser less than an hour before. When I had first walked into the room I noticed a ribbon had been cut into confetti. I'm thinking, great another mess to clean-up. That was until I looked in the closet. The little...darling apparently was feeling...creative? Not really sure what triggered this need to be destructive, but she cut up several of My Son's clothes and the Little Jamaican's shoes. My Son's shirts were randomly freed of a left sleeve or a collar or other random nicks and cuts. The Little Jamaican's shoes were disemboweled. Really, that is the only way I can think to describe it. Needless to say, there have been some pretty stiff consequences. Oh, I almost forgot, she also cut her own hair. It's lovely. (not!)

So I say to parents everywhere: There is something in the air. Hide your scissors or forever grieve the losses.

Honest Scrap

The Good Flea has sent me an award with some conditions so to say. So here is the award:

Now, if I want to keep this award I have give 10 honest "juicy" things about me. This should be interesting since "juicy" is almost foreign to me. OK, here we go....

1. As a toddler I had amazing little red rain boots. Loved to wear them and apparently I did not have adequate time to test them. My mom found me wearing them, wading in the toilet.

2. When I was a little girl, I noticed that Santa Claus seemed to forget to fill my parents stockings. Somewhere inside it made me feel really sad for my parents, so I started saving my trick-or-treat candy. I would sneak out of my bed in the middle of the night Christmas Eve to put my stale Halloween candy in their stockings.

3. My first kiss was in the 7th grade. His name was Kurtis and I thought I would never meet another boy as cute as him. Funny part is, I don't actually remember the kissing part. I think I may have blacked out with all that 7th grade excitement.

4. I rarely get to see TV, but the one show I love to watch every week is Extreme Makeover Home Edition

5. I was only ever stood up by one guy when I was dating. I was dumb enough to let him do it multiple times.

6. Many of you know that my grandma past away recently. (My Dad's Mom.) What you don't know is (my Mom's Mom) my other grandma passed away when I was eight. It was very traumatic to me. So much so, that in my over active little girl imagination, I thought my parents were storing my grandma's body in the top of the pantry. I know, I need therapy, but wait, the story gets better. So a week or so after my grandmothers funeral, my mom is cooking liver and onions. You know where this is going right? I still can't and won't try liver and onions, because as a demented little girl I thought my mom was trying to feed the family my grandmothers liver. (It didn't help that we had been learning about the Donner Party at school.)

7. OK, either I am getting tired, or I am running out of stuff to tell you. Oh, I know, I have never used the "F" bomb while conscious, but according to the Rocket Scientist, I once used it in my sleep to tell him to get his hands off of me. (It wasn't like that....I was having a nightmare in which he was torquing my shorts to the point I was hitting him in my dream. He tried to wake me and tell me I was having a nightmare.)

8. I love IKEA furniture in theory, not as fond of it in use. Still if your children are going to ruin your furniture anyway, I just don't see how you can go wrong here. Besides that, my favorite pots and pans are from here.

9. I don't like frosting. Of course, unless, it is coconut pecan frosting. That is an entirely different story. That frosting on top of an oatmeal cake is my favorite. YUMMM!

10. I cry every time I walk through the front gates of Disneyland. I don't really know why, I just start feeling all emotional and can't help myself.

Now I get to pick the next victims to spill the "juicy" details of their life. Let me think....Allrighty then, Krista you have spilled enough in the past year, you have already earned this award. Really, go read her blog, you will know what I mean. She puts it all out there. So........ Jen who is Buried With Children, my sister who has a White Knuckle Grip, Carrie who likes her Life in the Slow Lane, Tori at The McKee's, Nicole who's children believe in Naptime Optional, and Stacy at Me and the Boys.

Can hardly wait to read what you all have to spill. Thanks for tagging me Flea.