Impaled or Stabbed, Neither is Desirable!

I have a personal policy: Don't Get Stabbed. It's a good rule to live by, mostly because being impaled doesn't feel very good.

I've had only moderate success. I've mostly avoided ER trips and hospitalizations due to stabbing, but knives have met my fingers on too frequent an occasion in the kitchen and I sometimes have to go to the doctor and get a shot.

Like most people, I don't like shots. However, I get them, because I don't want to get diphtheria or measles or the flu. And so earlier this year I waived my Don't Get Stabbed rule to get a flu shot. Another thing that necessitated a Don't Get Stabbed waiver for a flu shot was my desire to not have an influenza-stricken toddler/preschooler. So if My Boy (three-year old son) ever ends up reading this -- remember: Boy, I GOT STABBED FOR YOU.

I'm now weighing the pros and cons of getting stabbed again, this time to prevent H1N1, known better as the Swine Flu even though you don't get it from pigs (though you can probably get it from lobbyists, so maybe that's what they're talking about). The Husband wants me to get shot. The Boy has already received his, so me getting shot only benefits myself. I see the declining Lobbyist Flu numbers and I'm not entirely sure I'm all that eager to waive my Don't Get Stabbed rule.

But there is another reason that I'm not eager to waive the rule, and that's due to the last time I got stabbed in the name of flu prevention.

I went with The Boy to get both of us flu shots. Until that trip, I had neglected to consider the idea that my son also has a Don't Get Stabbed Policy and, unfortunately, I had grown complacent. The Boy had, for the most part, avoided meltdowns. He's had one or two public meltdowns, but not for some time and I had figured to be long past that phase -- which at age three was a severely bad call on my part! Thank God for that, too, because about the only thing worse than being a parent of a child having a public meltdown is, well, getting stabbed. And only then it depends on what you're being stabbed with.

So I took The Boy to get a flu shot and used my default parental weaponry -- bribery. Be good getting a shot, I said, and you'll get a treat afterward.

"Okay!", said my sweetest little babe.

But then Shot Time came, and The Boy thought the better of it.

"Uh, Mommy-Dearest!," he said. "I'd rather not get a shot. I respectfully decline and shall forgo any promise of post-shot sweets." Or that's approximately what he said at age three when he WAILED at the TOP of his ever-loving lungs, "NO! NO! NO!!! DON'T HURT ME AGAIN!"

Only I wish he said this, and I wish he said it calmly. Or even with a moderate bit of stress. Instead, he proceeded to act like he was being sent to a torture chamber. He screamed. And then when he was done, he screamed again. He screamed in the lobby. He screamed in the office. He screamed as I pulled up his sleeve. He screamed as I had to hold him down so he could get the shot. He screamed afterward. And then he screamed when I informed him that he would not be the beneficiary of a post-shot treat, given that 15 straight minutes of screaming does not constitute "being good."

In the midst of this, I was looking around for any kind of ski mask that I could use to hide my identity. Absent that, I just shoved half my face into my shirt, lest somebody at clinic recognize me, point and shout, "HEY, LOOK AT THE REALLY, REALLY BAD PARENT WHO CAN'T CONTROL HIS CHILD!"

(By the way, people say, "control your child" as if there is some sort of magical fairy parenting dust that we can use in times of need to keep our uncontrollable children in line; if there IS some magical fairy parenting dust, by the way, please let me know, because I'd really like some.)

So as you can see, my Don't Get Stabbed policy combines with my Avoid Public Meltdown's policy to make me really not want to get a flu shot. But I'll probably get one, because I love my family. (Got that Husband? I'll get stabbed and risk a child having a public meltdown for you!) And then the Lobbyist Flu will fade away and I'll get sick, anyway.

Buble!

Could Michael Buble possibly be any cuter than he already is?!?!?!?!?!!? I adore this man and would happily stalk him!



http://www.nbc.com/saturday-night-live/video/clips/hamm-and-buble/1198004/

Many Colored Days

My fabulous 4-year old daughter and 3-year old son, with ever helpful assistance of my mother in law, made this gorgeous, stylish, highly sought after, designer "pencil box" for me. They surprised me with the cute box as I came home from work yesterday. Wasn't that so very sweet and kind?

I LOVE IT!

Love the bright colors and uniqueness. And let's not forget to mention the X's and O's (that I thought were for hugs and kisses but it turns out were for tic-tac-toes...) All very creative and useful.

I know that my pencil box will be coveted by many! My sisters and mom... They just may try to steal the precious box if I don't whisk it away to be safely stored in my cube farm at work. I bet all the mommy co-workers will be equally jealous.

In either case, have I mentioned that I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT?!?

My New Mantra

Peace.

It doesn't mean to be in
a place where there is
no noise,
trouble, or
hard work.

It means to be in the midst
of those things and
still be calm in your heart.

~ Author Unknown

Yesterday

Yesterday was Groundhog's Day.

It appears that PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) would like those who observe Groundhog's Day to use a MECHANICAL animal, instead of a real animal.

Hello?! Seriously?

I wasn't aware that the sweet, fat Groundhog was abused or violated when it poked it's head up from it's happy little hole in the ground to see if the sun was shining or not on the special day.

Really?!?!?!?!? I guess each individual needs to have our own personal mission in life and make sure that we explore our life calling, but calling for a MECHANICAL ANIMAL?

Sigh! Oh well...

Best Days

For the record, I am seriously thinking about SUSPENDING my baby sister's "Auntie" privileges. Thanks to her, my precious, adorable, little, petite FOUR YEAR OLD walks around my house singing "Best Days Of Your Life" by the skank Kellie Pickler -- who for the record, I am not a fan of!

AT ALL.

Did I mention that I don't think highly of Ms. Skank?



Best Days Of Your Life
~ Kellie Pickler

'Cus I'll be there, in the back of your mind
From the day we met 'til you were making me cry
And it's just too bad, you've already had the best days
The best days of your life

Ain't it a shame?
A shame that everytime you hear my name
Brought up in a casual conversation
You can't think ...straight

And ain't it sad?
You can forget about what we had
Take a look at her and do you like what you see?
Or do you wish it was me

CHORUS:
'Cus I'll be there, in the back of your mind
From the day we met to the very last night
And it's just too bad, you've already had the best days
The best days of you life

And does she know?
Know about the times you used to hold me
Wrapped me in your arms and how you told me
I'm the... the only one

I heard about
Yeah, someone told me once, when you were out
She went a little crazy ran her mouth about me
Ain't jealousy funny?

CHORUS
'Cus I'll be there, in the back of your mind
From the day we met to the very last night
And it's just too bad, you've already had the best days
The best days of you life

...with me was a fairytale love
I was head-over-heals 'til you threw away "us"
And it's just too bad you've, already had the best days
The best days of your life

I heard you're gonna get married
Have a nice little family
Live out my dreams with someone new

But, I've been told that a cheater
Is always a cheater
I've got my pride, and she's got you...

CHORUS
'Cus I'll be there, in the back of your mind
From the day we met 'til you were making me cry
And it's just too bad, you've already had the best days
The best days of your life...

Of your life
Oh, oh, yeah
You're gonna think of me
You're gonna think of me in your liiiiiiiiiiiife
Oh, oh, yeah
It's a shame, it's a shame...It's a shame

January in Minnesota

On Saturday, we went to the indoor park in Edina. It's always tons of fun (for the children) and I love that they are a bit independent and like to make new friends, so generally between my freaking out to make sure all of my children are accounted for and not stolen by Chester A. Molester and pretending to be a put-together, calm, good mommy, I try to relax and enjoy myself.

Oh! And on the side, I spend over 30 minutes trying to reunite frightened 6 year old boys with their un-attentative, 20-something babysitters...