Word of the Day Wednesday #5

Floordrobe



Where you put your clothes when you come home from work instead of the closet or the hamper.

We interrupt this blog to bring you an orthopedic emergency

And by that I mean "it was hurting since last week."

Golden Boy had been complaining since last week that his hand was hurting. Now Im not one who rushes to the doctor every time my kids have a sniffle. But he'd been complaining about it for several days and despite my expert medical treatment (here take an Aleve) it wasnt any better. So off we went to the after hours clinic at the big bone doctor that rhymes with Shambell.

They did some xrays (one with him making an OK sign with index finger and thumb. whats next? shadow animals on the wall?) and the best they could come up with was a sprained or strained ligament on the side of his hand. So that got him a cast for 3 weeks and a recheck on tax day. The lovely robin's egg blue cast, just in time for Easter, was applied by the wonderful and friendly Roscoe, who just retired from my hospital after a bazillion years. He was very sweet to GB.

Yeah. That'll teach him to complain about something hurting. What? You've got a sore throat? Lets put a cast on it.

Parents in a jar

Caution: irreverence ahead.

Some of you may know that in the last 10 years I have lost both my parents. NO, I did not just lay them down and walk off and forget. Like, they both passed away. Got it? Ok good.

My mother, she wanted to be cremated. How ironic, I thought, since she smoked like a chimney. So following her wishes she was cremated and placed in a beautiful pink cloissonne urn which lived in my parents back bedroom for about 7 years. I often wondered, how do you know that its Mom in there? How do you know they didnt just scoop up a big pile and really its some of Mr Jones and some of Mrs Smith and some of Mom? What would it matter? Its only ashes anyway.

She stayed in my parents back bedroom ("my mom, she doesnt get out much") until my dad moved into the assisted living. I took her to live with me after that. Funny thing was that on the way to my house, the urn fell over and the lid came off and it rolled all around the back of the van. But have no fear, she was all sealed up in a ziplock bag and arrived at my house a little shaken up but intact.

Yeah my dad he was cremated too. Thats a story for another post.

Word of the Day Wednesday #4

Sarchasm

The gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn't get it.

Thankyewverymuch

Teaching your children to drive

Golden Boy is now old enough to learn how to drive. I got him a copy of the Tennessee Drivers Manual and told him he could not take his test to get his permit until he had read it. He has not opened it. Im fine with it. Im not that excited about unleashing my kid on the streets when he turns 16 nor am I excited about the prospect of what car insurance is going to cost for him. The requirements are a lot stricter now than they were when I turned 16 (and knew everything there was to know, by the way). And Im glad, it takes some of the pressure off of the parents making the rules. I can just blame it on TDOT.

He has, however, been practicing on the road. I say on the road, what I really mean is empty parking lot. Less targets to hit, maybe just a curb or something. He drives pretty well actually. Its the braking he has trouble with. Im surprised the imprint of my forehead is not permanently ingrained in the dashboard. Lets just say that braking is something you have to have a "feel" for. I guess you could say he's not feeling it.

So far, I have not lost my cool. Yet. But evidently just a few practice sessions has made him into some driving Barney Fife. "You're going too fast." "You didnt stop enough at that stop sign." "You didnt use your blinker." Whats up with that? The fact that you sat in the driver's seat a few times does not make you a driver any more than sitting in a garage makes you a car.
Well at least he would be stationary.

Drama Queen

Well of course I had to write a post about the Drama Queen, I cant be accused of showing favortism. My other child is an 11 year old going on 20. If she had been first, she would have been an only. Where Golden Boy did everything just as the books said, Drama Queen took the book and threw it in the trash, after stomping on it and shredding it and lighting it on fire. She was 3 days late getting here but when she got ready to come out she didnt wait on nobody. If I had waited around any longer at home she would have been born there. And then she screamed for the next 3 months.

It seemed as though as soon as she could walk she was stomping her feet and slamming doors. She absolutely HATED it when we would laugh at her when she was preschool age, about 3-5. She would say or do something cute and we would laugh and she would get mad and cry. It hurt her feelings that we were laughing at her. We tried to explain that it wasnt HER we were laughing at, but what she DID, but to no avail. She finally grew out of it.

Things dont come quite as easily for Drama Queen. She has to work hard in school and is not that musical, although she does sing pretty well. Where she excels is all things physical. She played soccer and softball for church, and has cheered for 5 years. I wanted both my kids to have "a thing" something they enjoyed doing either as a hobby or something that could morph into a career, and that is her thing. She does get tired and complainy sometimes but stays motivated and that is alot to say about an 11 year old. She has learned the value of teamwork and committment. It might not end up being a career, but it could pay her way to college and that is not too shabby!

I guess one of the best things about being a Mom is looking at your kids when they arent watching and just being blown away by their pure beauty. Im so thankful for a beautiful precious daughter like her.

Word of the Day Wednesday #3

Hats off to my husband for coming up with this one. We were having a conversation one day and he said it and went on, no clue that it wasnt a real word. I just busted out laughing (remember, no filter). From that day on we have teased him about this word, and its become kind of a joke. Sometimes I call him "Dubya" and I even got him a page a day calendar of Bush-isms.







Disastrophy







Disaster+Catastrophe







And the hits just keep on coming.....

Golden Boy

My son, referred to here on the blog as Golden Boy, is 15 years old and a freshman in high school. We call him Golden Boy because he is one of those people who masters everything pretty much without any effort (well everything but rollerskating, thats for another post).Everything he touches turns to gold. He started singing pretty well when he was a young lad in preschool. I picked him up one day from preschool and his teacher said "Cody sings so well!" "Yes, I know" I replied. "NO, he sings REALLY well" He will hate that I told this but he once was obsessed with Disney movies. One that he was especially into was Little Mermaid. He would play with his Little Mermaid figurines and sing the aria that Ariel does when the evil sea witch Ursula was stealing her voice. aaahaaaaAAAAAH, aaaahaaaAAAH, aaaahhaaaAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH! And pretty much spot on, to my naked untrained ears. Kinda made me want to puke.

He sang his first solo in church at 5 years old "Happy Birthday Jesus." Yes he was in Kindergarten and there wasnt a dry eye in the house when he was done. Well now he had set a precedent. So his major feat in first grade was recording a the children's solo in a song on a CD with our adult choir at church. He just happened to lose one of his top teeth a few days before the recording and I was so afraid he would whistle when he sang words with "s" in them, but he did not. It is such a joy for me as a mom for him to use his talent like that for the Lord.

He started playing piano in 2nd grade and the french horn in 6th grade. (Yes this is a big commercial for my son so if you dont like it, just go to the next blog and come back tomorrow, I'll have something else witty to say.) Along the way he has been in some musicals locally such as The Music Man (once as Winthrop and once as Marcellous), Alice in Wonderland, and Seussical to name a few. He gets really embarrassed when people make over him and really doesnt like to get up in front of people so being in productions has really helped him with this. He certainly doesnt have an "Im better than you" attitude and for that I am very proud. He has also made All-Southwest Honor Choir 3 years, this year not even being a member of the chorus at school and just learning the music on his own (and with a little help from his first piano teacher and childrens choir director). The boy just never ceases to amaze me.

It's amazing to me how so much talent is in that boy considering his parents. To say that we are just your average choir members would pretty much sum us up. His gifts are truly straight from God and I hope I'll be around to see him use them for God's glory for many years to come.

Creepy Internet Friends

Ive been stalking, uhh, reading blogs for about 5 years now. Its pretty weird how you feel a connection with the bloggers. One of my favorite haunts is Busymom. If you havent read her yet, you must do so STAT, she is pretty darn funny. Well, when you get through here I mean. She is a nurse, has kids, is an only child (hold the spoiled kid comments, thanks), and lost a parent to lung cancer. I had commented on her blog and we had emailed several times, so when I found out I was going to be passing through her town, I asked her if she would like to meet. Much to my surprise, she said yes!

This trip that took me through her town was actually an annual trip I take every year with the handbell group at church. Its a handbell festival, and we try to squeeze in as much handbell ringing that we can while shopping. Ok stop laughing it really is fun. So we are on the bus headed to festival and I tell my peeps that Im meeting a friend from the internet at our first shopping stop. They pretty much proceeded to freak out. "YOURE WHAT?" "What if its not really a woman? What if its a 20 year old loser guy who lives in his mom's basement?" This was just a mom like me, not an axe murderer! They were most concerned, especially for my safety. I wasnt. We were meeting in the middle of a mall, for crying out loud! What could go wrong?

We made phone contact and made a meeting time and place in the mall. She was delightful to meet and we sat and talked for about 45 minutes on a bench at the mall. Meanwhile my friends were circling like vultures around some roadkill. They made me promise to use a secret codeword in case I felt like I was in danger. One of them suggested the codeword and just said to work it into my conversation and they would hear me and come rescue me. The secret codeword? Sickle cell anemia! "Well, Busymom, I gotta run. Im feeling bad and I might be coming down with sickle cell anemia."

Glad I didnt have to use it.

Word of the Day Wednesday #2

Welcome to my 2nd installation of Word of the Day Wednesday. Seein as how I live in the south (and so do most of my readers), Im sure this word will bring a few people to mind:

Reintarnation

Coming back in a second life as a redneck.

No names mentioned.

Im Real....

One thing I've heard lots of people say about me (among other not so repeatable things Im sure) is that Im real. Probably a little TOO real. I have a big mouth, but no filter. Sometimes I probably need a zipper.


I just completed a 2 phase project at work that involved a lot of learning on my part. Not just knowledge type learning, but learning to keep my mouth shut and be politically correct. Lets just say THAT was a huge learning curve for me. If you ask me my opinion about something you are pretty much going to get it. I had to learn when to speak and when to keep my mouth shut and save my real opinion for the "meeting after the meeting." Lets just say I learned that the corporate world is better left to someone else. I couldnt wait to get back to being just a regular ole nurse.


The upside of being real is that you will always know where you stand with me. I dont sugarcoat things, what you see is pretty much what you get. It means I wont ever be "Nurse of the Year," but oh, well.


I guess its the small price I pay for being real.

Danke Schoen

Got a shout out this week from the awesome RevKev, a friend from way back! He is very funny, and blogs about his everyday stuff and also being a Minister of Music in the hoppin metropolis of Humbolt. Im sure that all of my followers have read him (all 4 of you, himself included) but all you lurkers out there (yes you the one not making eye contact) might want to stop by and get your giggles on.

Tip of the day

iPhone: $199.00

Otterbox case for iPhone: $40.00

Trippin over microscopic grain of concrete and landing Superman style on the sidewalk with your iPhone face down but SCRATCH FREE: Priceless

Scavenger Hunt Time

Ok, you totally have to do this:
(yes, you, in the back. over to the right. yes, you. do it. because I said, ok?)

Go to www.google.com and in the search window enter "where do I find Chuck Norris" and instead of "google search" hit "I'm feeling lucky." Go. Do it. NOW. I'll wait.

(humming jeopardy theme song......)

That totally cracked me up. And you know you laughed, too.

Word of the Day Wednesday #1

When I was off on my adventure for months and months away from bedside nursing my partner made up a word one day in casual conversation describing a situation that had happened at her home. Evidently her 15 year old daughter had snuck in a boy while mom was not at home and on the verge of being caught had to shuffle the boy out the door, and then jumped into bed to pretend she was sleeping. In the course of telling me the story she said her daughter had not one ounce of...

SNEAKATIVITY......

I asked her, "Is that a word?" She said "Yeah, I just made it up!"

And word of the day was born. A week or so later I got a dry erase board and put it on our office door. Some days Word of the Day was something someone had said in casual conversation that was funny, or something I had to dig to come up with. Soon our coworkers were stopping by our office to ask what the word of the day was, followed by strangers getting off the elevator and making comments about them. When we were remiss in posting our word of the day, we heard about it!

So Partner/Sister, thanks for creating our first word of the day and starting a tradition that made a lot of people laugh.

You like me! You really like me!

Wow. Im blown away! I tried the blogging thing before but gave up because, well, no one read it but me. But now blogging is better known (everybody is doin it) and its easier to get the word out via Twitter and Facebook. I installed a statcounter to just see exactly who my fans, er, readers are. So yes, I know who you are, all 6 of you! And look! I have FOUR followers over there------------------------------------->>>

Yes, one is my husband. He does TOO count! No, I did not sign up on google as him and follow myself. But, um, hey thats a good idea!

Truly I am humbled and flattered.

p.s. Dont be afraid to leave a comment. As long as its something repeatable in mixed company, that is.

Beware!

Ladies BEWARE....................

This is a heads-up to those friends who haven't experienced it yet and an explanation to those friends and family who have. Most of you have read the scare-mail about the person whose kidneys were stolen while he was passed out. Well, the kidney story was a hoax but this one is real. It's happening every day. My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. It was just that quick. I went to sleep in my body and woke up with someone else's thighs that have the texture of cooked oatmeal. Who would have done such a cruel thing to legs that had been mine for years? Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine. I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans and Sheer Energy pantyhose.

Then, just when my guard was down, the thieves struck again. My butt was next. I knew it was the same gang because they took pains to match my new rear end to the thighs they stuck me with earlier. However, they attached it badly -- at least three inches lower than my original. Now, my rear complemented my legs, lump for lump. Frantic, I prayed that long skirts would stay in fashion.

It was two years ago when I realized my arms had been switched. One morning I was fixing my hair and I watched horrified but fascinated as the flesh of my upper arms swung to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary. My body was being replaced one section at a time. How clever and fiendish. Age? Age had nothing to do with it. Age is supposed to creep up, unnoticed, something like maturity. NO, I was being attacked repeatedly and without warning. In despair, I gave up my T-shirts. What could they do to me next?

My poor neck disappeared more quickly than the Thanksgiving turkey it now resembled. That's why I decided to tell my story. I can't take on the medical profession by myself. Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee. I now realize where those surgeons are getting their replacement parts. They really aren't plastic like they claim. The next time you suspect someone has had a face 'lifted,' look again. Was it lifted from you??

I think I finally found my thighs and I hope that Cindy
Crawford paid a really good price for them!

This is not a hoax. This is happening to women in every town every night.
WARN YOUR FRIENDS.

P.S. I must say that last year I thought someone had stolen my breasts. I was lying in bed and they were gone! As I jumped out of bed I was relieved to see that they had just been hiding in my armpits as I slept. Now I keep them hidden in my waistband.