Irrational Fear

Apparently I am full of irrational fears.

It's amusing how once you birth children, the world becomes an amazingly dangerous place. Suddenly your child-less friend's living room is like a mine-field -- all those pointy, sharp corners on the coffee table; the fragile, glass knick-knacks that glitter and beckon to your wee one; the jagged stone fireplace base that screams stitches required for all forehead trippers; the tiny, precious bric-a-brac that would lodge perfectly in your child's throat if they are allowed to get it into their drooly mouth; the ever present flat screen TV that threatens to smoosh your wee one into nothing-nesss.  Well, today's story is nothing about those fears.

It's about something that is so much more realistic and likely to happen... an evil arachnid eating your face off as you innocently relieve yourself in the lavatory.

TRUE STORY!

Over the weekend, I went to sit down on our throne to simply pee. As I pulled my pants down and my dimply cheeks hit the toilet seat, I glanced to my immediate left at the bathroom vanity where the toilet paper dispenser thingy is. To my absolute horror, I saw THIS SPIDER.

The Evil Beast was sitting on top of the toilet paper preparing to launch itself at my poor, unsuspecting self -- and at one of my most vulnerable moments! I had my pants around my ankles.  I promise you, if I hadn't already been sitting on the porcelain throne, I would have wet myself right then and there!!!  I could tell The Spider was contemplating which part of my face was the most tasty, trying to decide if he should first go for my plump cheeks, or the whites of my eyeballs...  I was so frightened that I almost forgot how to scream. 

Mind you, I said ALMOST!

I let out an impressive blood-curdling scream that was truly worthy of a teeny-bopper meeting her end in a slasher horror flick.

I heard a stampede of tiny feet flinging their bodies towards the bathroom door to see what all the hullabaloo was about.  Little Man was the first to arrive.

While I pointed in terror at The Spider still happily occupying the top of the toilet paper roll, Little Man took one look and said, "Eww!" and then ran for the safety of my bedroom.

Diva was next to arrive on the scene.  She quickly spotted the intruder and shrieked, "Ann! Quick! Grab your pants!"  I was still so panic stricken that I had not moved a millimeter.

Little Princess barrels into the bathroom.  When she sees what we are all freaking about, she heaves a huge sigh, rolls her eyes and says, "Oh please! It's just a a tiny spider." With a quick flick of her wrist, she launches The Spider off the top of the toilet paper and throw the air AT ME!!!!!!!!

Insert another mind-blowing scream! Along with every limb I own flaying wildly around me.  My hair is flinging round my head, my arms and legs are doing the crappie flop as if I have been electrocuted or stung by a thousand bumble bees at once!!!

I don't need to share the rest of the story that may, or may not, include tripping myself with pants around my ankles, undies flying one direction and an even more undignified fall head first into the safety of the hallway. it will suffice to say -- It wasn't pretty.

But I am happy to report that I escaped The Spider unscathed. However, the sad news is, The Spider is still at large in my home!

Oh and for the record, apparently, Little Princess (age 5) says The Spider was only THIS BIG:

I ask you, my dear bloggy friends,
who are you going to believe?
The five-year old or ME?!?

Time Travel Tuesdays

Nicole at By Word of Mouth Musings has created a great link-up/blog hop called Time Travel Tuesdays. Each week she asks you to pull out an old post and link up. It's so much fun to read recycled posts of fellow bloggers.

So this week I will share a post from an amusing lapse in memory -- I Amaze Myself.

Sunday, March 27, 2011

I Amaze Myseslf

I've mentioned before that I may be a bit forgetful.  I also have a helping hand with the assistance of my wee ones with misplacing objects.  However, apparently, I cannot always blame it on them.

On Friday morning I was frantically searching all over the house for my cell phone. I remembered having it the night before, but it was no where to be found.  I checked under my pillow on the bed; next to and under the bed; the bathroom vanity; the kitchen counters; every available surface in the living room. I started to throw a mild tantrum and was close to blaming the wee ones on losing it.  Big E suggested I use the home phone to call my cell phone to see if we could hear it vibrate and find it that way.  With a big ol' huffy breath (worthy of Junie B. Jones), I picked up the home phone and dialed my cell phone.

As it turns out, my cell was not so lost.  

IT WAS IN MY JEANS POCKET ON MY BODY.

Rolling my eyes, I quickly hung up the home phone as I watched Husband's lip twitch with a barely concealed grin as he shook his head back and forth. Oh! And Big E... she cackled like an insane woman.  

At least Husband has learned enough to not actually make a comment at that moment. 

Another shining example of how put together I am...

Pay It Forward - Dance Bag

This week my bestest bud and next door neighbor found a dance bag sitting in the road, near my car parked outside our home.  The Fab Neighbor comes into my house and says, "Do you know who Samantha is?" I'm totally confused.

Me: "No. What are you talking about?"

Fab Neighbor: "Well, I found this dance bag -- Irish Step Dance (!), and it belongs to Samantha and apparently she is 10 years old [same age as Big E], so I figured she was a friend of E's."

Me: "Huh. I have no idea who that is."


Fab Neighbor and I are trying to decide how to return the dance bag to the proper owner.  Known facts: 1) first and last name of a ten-year old girl -- which we only knew because of a piece of paper that appeared to list dances that Ms. Samantha must have been in for a recent dance competition, 2) the dance studio's name that was embroidered on the bag, and 3) not a freaking thing.

Tactic One: DexOnline the child's last name to see if anyone in our zip code shares her last name.  Hmmm... NOPE.  There are 30 folks with the same last name in the Twin Cities -- with an estimated population of approximately 3 MILLION people in the entire metro area.  FAIL.  I am not cold calling a minimum of 30 families. Not a fan of cold calls.

Tactic Two: Google the dance studio name and see if we can contact the studio for information about the family.  Found the dance studio website easily enough but there were no phone numbers listed so we were stuck with sending an email to a webmaster email black hole.

Fast forward a few days. I receive an email from Ms. Samantha's mom.  SCORE!  The studio contacted the mom and the mom contacted us.  After several emails, with both Other Mom and I being overly cautious since neither of us wanted to exchange too much personal information, we decide to meet at a park where Big E is playing soccer to pass off the dance bag.

YAY!  We meet in person and return the dance bag to super grateful and over the top sweet family.  Turns out they had been in our neighborhood for a "fossil hunt-thingy" through a park and rec nearby and when they got back to their car, unfortunately, their back window was smashed out (as well as a few other vehicles) and their dance bag was gone.

The sweetest, ten-year-old girl gave me the biggest hug and handed me the most gracious and affectionate thank you letter ever.  Then her mom gives me a massive bouquet of gorgeous flowers.  I was all but moved to tears by the thank you letter, which I am sharing below.

It is so awe-inspiring to be a part of something so genuine that put such joy and happiness on the face of such a beautiful girl (who I might add, at 10-years old, was several inches taller than me. Hee, hee!)  It is so easy to look the other way and not put the tiny bit of extra work into doing good.

So, again I need to say, YAY!!!

Just in case it's too hard to read the letter via my awful picture.

"Dear Ann,

I can't thank you enough for finding my bag and going through all of that trouble to finding me to return it to me. It was so hard to get back from such a fun day to see our car window broken and my bag gone! I cried for such a long time! Now that you found my bag I am back to being happy because you found my bag and that there are nice people out there to outnumber all the bad people out there. Thank you so, so, so, so, so much!

Love, Sam"


BONUS! Sam had been at a dance competition over the weekend and had won her first TWO gold medals ever, but they were in her dance bag, so she was afraid that she would never see them. My heart swelled with such pride that we could make such a phenomenal girl so happy, just by doing what was right and good.

Photo Friday: Week 24 - Fathers

It's Photo Friday (and yes, I am aware that I am a bit late seeing that it is now Wednesday...) Week 24's theme is "Fathers."  I have very few pictures of my father. There are quite a few stories to be shared about my father, but those will be for a different day. So this photo is an informal one from my wedding...

And then here is a photo of Husband who is beyond camera shy and IMPOSSIBLE to get to smile. I swear that man always looks like he is part of a police line-up in photographs.  However, as he and Big E prepared to go to the Girl Scout "My Guy & Me Dance" last year, they were goofing off and teasing me, which allowed me to catch this candid, sweet, giggly moment between them. Love those dimples (although you can't see Big E's in this picture.)

Please hop on over to Trina's blog (click her button below) to see the other Photo Friday submissions. It's so fun to see everyones ideas of each weeks theme.

Time Travel Tuesdays

Nicole at By Word of Mouth Musings has created a great link-up/blog hop called Time Travel Tuesdays. Each week she asks you to pull out an old post and link up. It's so much fun to read recycled posts of fellow bloggers.

So this week I will share a post from an amusing (only in hindsight) trip to urgent care.  Who knew Cell Phones and Pig Farmers were a part of medical clinic visits?!

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Cell Phones & Pig Farmers

On Thursday, I left work early to go beg the Urgent Care pros to make me feel better. I had been in excessive denial for days that I was getting sick. I was vaguely admitting defeat as I called the appointment line on Wednesday, and again Thursday morning.  Unfortunately, since it was right before the holiday, of course, all of the appointments were taken.  On Thursday morning, the appointment specialist advised me that I (along with five million two hundred eighty thousand and seventy-two other patients) needed to go waste a minimum of 4.5 hours of my life by sitting through the forever-long wait at Urgent Care.

I left work at one pm.  The Urgent Care clinic opened at one pm.  I was, delusionally, hoping to beat some of the rush by arriving shortly after they opened.

* COUGH, GAG, CHOKE, CHORTLE at my own naivety *

I arrived and promptly was greeted with the sight of FIVE people standing in line, waiting to check in.  As I scanned the waiting room, I counted no fewer than TWELVE additional patients already checked in and biding their time until the medicinal fairies would cure them.  [ For those of us counting, FIVE plus TWELVE equals SEVENTEEN patients ahead of me.]  The sweet Sunday-school-teaching receptionist checks me in and cheerily informs me the wait is at least two to two and a half hours.

Freaking perfect!  Anyone familiar with the term "FML" or visited the infamous "FMyLife.com" website? Umm... YEAH!

So I'm chilling with the infectious throngs of hacking, wheezing, sneezing folks.  I'm trying my best to stay on the sidelines and out of the reach of the pukers and poor, frazzled mommies with screaming kiddos.

I had just finished my third magazine ("Golf Digest" -- a sport I abhor and don't play, "American Babies" -- my youngest is now 4 years old, and "Midwest Living" -- well, at least I live in the Midwest).  I had been waiting for over two hours and my patience was, perhaps, growing a bit thin as I kept glancing at the clock on my cell phone.

All of a sudden, an extremely LOUD and obnoxious woman sits down two chairs from me.  She is yakking away on her cell phone.  She is talking in Somali and speaking in a B-O-O-M-I-N-G voice that is at least ten decibels above an acceptable "inside voice".  As I once again glance at the clock on my own, politely-silenced cell phone, I can feel myself balling up my fists as I listen to the shrieking foreigner on her cell for the eleventh straight minute.

Seriously?!?!?  I may need to launch my aching and irritable body (all 5' 1" of me) at this much taller and larger woman.  I want to punch her into next year. On a good, healthy day, I positively despise rude people who talk on their cell phones in public and crowded places.  It's absolutely inexcusable and irritating beyond belief.  UGH!!!

I am contemplating the ways I can inflict bodily harm on this aggravating woman, when I receive a text message from a friend reminding me that if I intend to take out the freaking cell-yeller, I should exact a punishment that includes emotional harm, instead of physical harm, because it's harder to press charges and reach the threshold of "proof" in court.  Hmmm.... okay.... I can work with that.  How to cause enough emotional pain to make the shrieker leave the clinic waiting room.  Other patients are eyeing the woman with disdain too.  Maybe we could just take a vote, like on Survivor, and extinguish the monstrosity's cell phone.

Who-hoo!!!  Her poor husband's name is called and she trails behind him yakking away at obscene levels of loudness.  The collective group of waiting room patients, feeling like we've been spared additional torture we don't deserve, all sigh in relief that she is gone and things are quiet.

SIGH!

Suddenly, from the other side of the waiting room, I hear a pot-bellied, stomach-peeking-out-the-bottom-of-his-tshirt man say.  "You know, back on the farm, we didn't have those new technology things.  All we had was a party line and it was fine. All this stupid technology.  It's a status symbol thing for "those people."

"Those people?!"

Oh man!  I can feel my hackles raising again.  What does he mean "those people"?  Simply because she wasn't speaking English?  SIGH!!!  I wasn't irritated by what language she was speaking.  I was irritated because my throbbing head did NOT appreciate her LOUD-ARSE voice in a tiny, enclosed area.

So the pot-bellied man continues much too loudly.  "Well, yeah!  I mean, I grew up on a small pig farm and out there things were just right.  We had lots of pigs.  I worked hard and we used to butch the pigs... and then you can grind them up for pork... or if you do -- then that is bacon. And really, pig is the best kind of meat ever!  You can use all kinds of their parts for great stuff -- not only what people think of as an-okay-kind-of-meat.  As for me, I will never eat hot dogs again because, well, I helped to butcher the animals and somehow hooves should not be edible. By the way, do you know how much blood a pig has? When you cut..."

ARE YOU FLIPPING KIDDING ME?!?!?

I refuse to waste any more of YOUR brain cells or MY time recounting what pigs are good for and how to butcher them by the former pig farmer/butcher with a scary ol' pot-belly peeking out of the bottom of his too-short shirt.  Ewwwww!!!

So... I waited three and a half hours to see a doctor who I spent less than 15-minutes with me to prescribe me an antibiotic that has thankfully kicked in three days later to at least make me now feel human again.

Hugs to you and your family.  Happy New Year!!!

60-80 Party

 
This weekend I attended my great auntie's and great uncle's 60-80 Party. They were both turning 80 years old and were also celebrating their 60 year wedding anniversary, so they threw a huge backyard bash for family and friends. It was so sweet and awesome!!! Can you imagine being married for 60 years?!?

Happy Father's Day!

Happy Father's Day to all of the important men in my life! 

Thank you for being so brave and patient and loving and kind.  

I love you!

Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope.  ~ Bill Cosby

It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.  ~ Johann Schiller

A father carries pictures where his money used to be.  ~ Author Unknown

ABCs of Me

I found this post idea at C. Mom.  Several bloggers have done the ABC challenge and now I'd like to join in...

A. Are you a PC or a Mac: Always a PC. Husband would have an aneurysm if I chose anything different. Although I must confess to having an iPod that I love.

B: Bed Size: Queen. \However, a king sounds kind of nice lately -- what with all those wee ones joining me in bed EVERY night. I get it that I am all cute and cuddly, but come on!

C. Chore you hate: Putting laundry away. I literally will leave laundry (folded) in a basket and go get clothes from the basket instead of my dresser.

D. Dogs or cat? Always cat! Never been a fan of droooly dogs.

E. Essential “start the day” item: Diet Pepsi.

F. Fave color: Green. Always any shade of green.

H. Height: 5″1'…all of my pants are always way too long. My friends who are 5"6 or 5"8 think it's funny when I call them TALL!

G. Gold or Silver: Gold. Hello! Look how pale my skin is. Silver washes me out even more.

I. Instruments you play: I have NO musical talent -- not in instruments or singing. I've awful.

J. Job: Mom, wife, sister, crisis negotiator, chef, chauffeur, and my paid employment includes project management and executive assistant duties.

K. Kids: 4 wee ones. Daughter, age 10; step daughter, age 7 (on Sunday); daughter, age 5; son, age 4.

L. Living Arrangements: Home owner.

M. Mom’s Name: Margaret. She goes by Peggy.

N. Nickname: “Baby Red” or "Annie".

O. Overnight Hospital Stay: Yup. All three of my children were born via c-section. I've also had gastric bypass and my wisdom teeth a million years ago were a pain in my arse and needed surgical removal.

P. Pet Peeve: Huh! It's hard to only chose one. I can't stand twitchers who constantly shake their leg or tap their foot or fingers. Drives me batty.

Q. Quality I would like to have (but do not): Patience with the wee ones. Lack of an anxiety disorder would also be nice.

R. RIGHTY OR LEFTY?: Righty.

S. SIBLINGS: Two younger sisters. One 11 months younger and the other 5 1/2 years younger.

T. TV Shows: Diners, Drive-Ins and Drives. Or anything on HGTv.

U. Underwear: Can't answer this. Sorry.

V. Vacation I am dreaming of: The Greek Isles, Egypt, Fiji.

W: Wine preference: Sorry. I'm not much of a fan of wine. Give me rum or the occasional tequila.

Y:Yummiest food: Benihana's fried rice with ginger sauce. Or anything PASTA!

Z: Zodiac Sign: Virgo, but I must say that I don't give much deference to astrological signs.

Pick a letter, any letter. How would you answer it?

Hilarious Circumc.... Story

WEE ONE WARNING!
Do not let children old enough to read be near you unless you want to face
several uncomfortable questions that you may not be ready to answer...

So on Wednesday I posted about joining the Time Travel Tuesdays blog hop and I came across the absolutely most hilarious post ever at All Fooked Up from January 2011. I so wish I could have the courage to be so candid with my mom-in-law. Holy Funny, Batman! Hop over to Lynn's blog, All Fooked Up and read the "recycled" post about circumcision.

POST BELOW:

Today I’m going to discuss circumcisions. Specifically my views on circumcision and a conversation I had regarding such views. Now, this conversation took place quite some time ago so I’m going to try to tell the story without actually offending the people in the story. I’m not too concerned about offending you, the readers, because a) I don’t know you and b) even if I do know you I don’t care and 3) it’s my blog and I can damn well discuss what I like because d) you can stop reading this whenever you want. But you won’t because this story is HILARIOUS.


So, about 20 some odd years ago when Kevin and I had just gotten married but BEFORE we had kids, we were having a conversation with Kevin’s parents and the conversation turned to circumcision. Someone, who shall not be named (that sounds like Voldemort doesn’t it….”He Who Shall Not Be Named”), had a little boy and the parents had decided that the child shouldn’t be circumcised and the following conversation took place:


Key: Me (that’s me). MIL (that’s my mother-in-law). BOY (boy infant in question)


MIL: “They (the parent’s) have decided not to circumcise BOY”


Me: “They need to circumcise him”


MIL: “No Lynn, they’ve done a lot of research and they’ve decided not to”


Me: “He definitely needs to be circumcised!”


(Kevin is starting to look concerned as he watches the typical verbal tennis match between his mother and I – we argue about everything. Kevin’s dad is quietly listening but not commenting)


MIL: “Things have changed Lynn. There is a lot of medical research now that says that circumcision isn’t necessary”


Me: “I’m telling you. It is necessary. The kid needs to be circumcised”


(Now Kevin’s dad is starting to squirm around. His face is going redder … and redder … Kevin is starting to get uncomfortable and is looking at me concerned)


MIL: “I’m not sure that you’re aware of all the new research Lynn”


Me: “The hell with the research. He needs to be circumcised”


MIL: (Starting to get visibly upset…agitated even) “Why? Why do you keep saying that Lynn?”


Me: “It’s just really important”


MIL: “WHY? WHY LYNN, WHY?”


Me: “Why MIL? I’ll tell you why!”


(OK, Kevin’s starting to panic. I can see his face going white. You never know what’s going to come out of my mouth at this point and I was in my 20’s without the incredible self-control that I now exhibit)


Me: “are you sure you want to know?”


(Kevin is really scared and his dad is beginning to turn purple…)


Me: “Because Allison” (wait for it … wait for it!) “… if he doesn’t get circumcised there’s no way that kid is EVER going to get a BLOWJOB!!!”


OMG! All hell broke loose! Kevin’s dad started choking from laughing so hard. His face was a shade of purple that I have never seen on a human being before. Kevin was as white as a sheet that I had just said that to his parents and Kevin’s mom was in a catatonic state of shock. This was definitely not what she thought I was going to say. But seriously, that’s a pretty god damn compelling reason. I mean gals out there, right? No one wants a penis with a hoodie, do they? I know I don’t, or I didn’t back then. And I haven’t been around but one in the last 25 years or so and there sure as hell was no Hoodie on that one. I made SURE that Daniel’s hoodie was taken care of right at the get go.


So yeah, that conversation was priceless. I’m not sure his mother ever recovered and the BOY in question never got a circumcision but I stand strong in my opinion. I’ve never had a run in with a guy with a hoodie and I really can’t say whether the kid ever got a blowjob but I was just doing my part, watching out for the welfare of a minor. Do you agree? Or disagree? I really don’t care…I was just asking.

Time Travel Tuesdays

Nicole at By Word of Mouth Musings has created a great link-up/blog hop called Time Travel Tuesdays. Each week she asks you to pull out an old post and link up. I'm excited to have joined this week's hop and can't wait to keep reading the recycled posts of fellow bloggers.

My Recycled Post was all about the "Poor People Fun" my wee ones had in December 2009.

This is a perfect example of why parents should NOT spend their good, hard-earned money on toys for their children.

If you're children are anything like mine, they prefer stacking cans of vegetables and fruits into towers as tall as they are. Then to make things interesting, those intelligent wee ones begin to use the Tower O' Veggies as a "tee" and whack a wiffle ball across the kitchen with their elbows.

Gotta love their creativity but it really makes you think twice before you dole out $45 on that hottest, gotta have toy of Christmas 2009.

Seriously, people! I am not forking out $17.99-$28.99 for a pair of Elmo Tickle Hands when this kid adores $0.78 cans of carrots for his homemade Tower O' Veggies!!!

Mumstrosity

Yesterday, I was honored to share a "Mumstrosity" regarding an important anniversary for me. Click here to visit "Happy Anniversary to Me" at Mumstrosity.

And in case you haven't heard of the blog "Mumstrosity", hop over immediately and read the stories.  As Liz at Mumstrosity describes her site:

About

Welcome to Mumstrosity.com

Mumstrosity.com is based in Australia.

What is a Mumstrosity?

Mum·stros·i·ty

[Mum-stros-i-tee]

-noun , plural -ties

1. The state or character of being a monstrous mum.

2. An incident or act involving ones offspring that has resulted in a mother feeling bad or
experiencing ‘Mummy Guilt’

Mum·stros·i·ties

[Mum-stros-i-tees]

-plural

1. Collective name of several ‘Mumstrosity’ incidents.

eg. “On www.mumstrosity.com you can find a collection of ‘Mumstrosities’.”

Here you’ll find my blog, a collection of Mumstrosities and a few awesome giveaways .

We’re all human, and sometimes we just fuck things up. When your a mother, the likelihood of you fucking something up can be times by the number of children you have – in my case, x3.

You’d think the more children someone has, the better they would be at parenting. This is not the case; you see, the eldest child is always going to be a learning point, the second child you try to learn from the ‘mistakes’ you made the first time round, but things still don’t go smooth. By the time you get to number 3, or any surviving succeeding children thereafter you don’t know what the fuck to do and just let them run wild. or something.

I am, a Mumstrosity. Are you?

~Liz

About Liz

Liz is a twenty-something stay at home Mum of 3 who divides her time between drinking coffee, blogging, changing nappies and shopping. Probably in that order.
She began blogging in April 2010, started Mumstrosity.com in January 2011 and is also an admin at DigitalParents and Blogger’s Manifesto.

Inspirational

On Saturday evening, my father in law surprised my mother in law with a vow renewal ceremony to celebrate their 35th Wedding Anniversary. All of the family was invited to sneak into a side room at their church after the service started.  As the church-goers were leaving the chapel, my mother in law's sister and brother cornered her (much to her surprise) and had her put on her "vow-renewal-attire", then we were all re-seated in the pews and the vow renewal ceremony began.  Mother in Law was absolutely shocked and had no clue Father in Law had been planning it for weeks.  It was so very sweet and touching.

In order to help Husband's brother and sister in law, who are located in Texas, share in the special ceremony in Minnesota, they were skyped through a wireless connection and were then able to watch the entire ceremony and chat with the joyful couple afterwards.

In today's mixed up world, it's a really big deal to make it to 35 years of wedded bliss!  I was so proud to share in their happy celebration! All my love to Gramma and Papa (as the wee ones call them) and we wish them at least another 35 years of awesome shared love.

Failure is Not an Option

I recently shared the F My Life website, which is always good for an ironic, high-school kind of laugh.  Well, I've now been referred to Epic Fail, another grand place to find a great laugh and after attending yesterday's funeral for my much too young cousin's (57-years old), I need a bit of cheering up.

Here are a few examples of Epic Fails!

WEE ONE WARNING!!!
Bad word in this 15 second video.





Submitted by Anon



Submitted by Angel S.



Submitted by Steve L.




Submitted by Jerry M. , Jami M.