Acne

Because he's a caveman and can't be trusted to be at home alone with Emily for a couple hours after school, Blake goes to the YMCA Kid's Club when school gets out everyday. Then I pick him up in the gym when I get off work. It's sort of expensive when you think about the fact he's only there for 12.5 hours a week but we don't have any other choice and it's only until Adam gets laid off this winter.

So yesterday I picked Blake up and he seemed kinda run down, kinda tired. I asked him what was wrong and he said they made him play "The Screaming Game." Sounds like something I play in my head about three or four times a day at work. He said basically they scream and run around and that he didn't want to do it but the lady told him, "I didn't ask you if you WANT to I said you HAD to."

"Screw you, 19 year-old chubby girl!" is what I thought in my head. Blake said it gave him a sore throat,  a headache and made it kinda hard for him to breathe. (Just before the end of the school year, Blake was diagnosed with activity-induced asthma. It's not usually an issue but he occasionally has trouble breathing when he's running around.) When we got home he said he still felt yucky so I said, "You know what? Next time that girl tells you you HAVE to play tell her your mother said you don't have to because last time it made your throat hurt and it was hard for you to breath afterwards because you have asthma." I said, "Don't say it like some snobby kid, just tell her nicely and ask if you can just sit in the corner quietly while they play."

Flash forward to this morning. Blake's second mother, my 10 year-old daughter Emily said, "Now Blake, if they ask you to play the screaming game, what are you going to tell them?"

"My mom said I don't have to because it makes my throat hurt and plus I have acne."

Lemme  know how that works out for ya, buddy!

memory

I've been reading a blog a young woman has been writing; a woman who's husband drown just a year ago. He was only 34 or 35 and a famous cellist who played with John Mayer, Coldplay, Katy Perry to name a few. I've posted the link to that blog here before. Today I was catching up on the last couple days of her posts and something she said struck me:

We thoroughly critiqued each movie that we saw afterwards but I had a very bad memory in that I never remembered which movies I had already seen.  You were in charge of telling me, "You already saw that...don't you remember?"


That's totally Adam and I. I RARELY remember movies I've seen. I'll always ask him, "Have I seen that?" "Yeah, don't you remember? They were stuck up on that ski lift and there were the wolves and stuff??" "Ooooh yeaaaahhh!!!" Sometimes we need to rely on others in ways we don't realize. Thanks Adam.

Check it out!

My pal Allie over at http://www.wardrobeoxygen.com/ is having a contest to try out COVERGIRL's new LashPerfection mascara. Go check it out. You won't win, because I'm planning on winning but you can dream, I guess. lol

http://www.wardrobeoxygen.com/2011/10/review-and-giveaway-covergirl.html

10 Years

This weekend I was gathering up laundry in the bedroom when I came across a box of pictures that I had shoved under the bed long ago. They were all (or mostly all) pictures of Emily when she was about two. Looking at all of those pictures and knowing she was turning 10 on Monday I realized they represented a lot of hopes and dreams I have for my little girl. (Don't tell her I just called her a 'little girl'. I called her that earlier today and was promptly scolded)

So, in honor of Miss Emily Rainn Warren turning 10, here are a small sample of those pictures and my hopes for her.

Even though you're no longer going to be taking any dance classes this year, I still hope you take the time to dance. Dance by yourself, dance with your friends, dance with your daddy, but just dance. Like the saying goes, "Dance like no one's watching."

It's cheesy, but I hope you take the time to stop and smell the flowers. Don't rush through life, just wasting time waiting to be in high school, or in college, or out on your own, married, having babies, or whatever the next goal you want for yourself may be because pretty soon you'll look back and wonder where all the time went and you'll wish you would have done this or that or enjoyed more moments. Enjoy your moments, no matter how small.

 The world is a big, scary place but your parents will always be there next to you, supporting you, no matter what.

I'm sorry we ruined Twinkies for you last year by giving you one of those "Shrek" Twinkies with the green creme filling. They totally freaked you out and you hate Twinkies now. I hope you can love them again. (Sorry also to my best pal Tanya Jo! She loves Twinkies and is probably cursing me for doing such a horrible thing to an innocent snack cake.) 

I hope you always have a caring spirit that wants to take care of others, no matter how small.

I hope you always love the simple things in life like Nemo balloons and early morning Sesame Street. 

May you never lose the excitement of a really cute pair of shoes.

I hope you always enjoy nature and enjoy learning about science and all those things I thought were lame and boring. Learn everything you can about anything. You never know when you'll need to know it.

I hope you take the time to relax and enjoy yourself once in a while. Soon your life is going to get even more crazy with friends, activities and social engagements that you think you can't miss out on and before you know it you're all grown up and wishing you could go back to this moment. Take advantage of naps. ;)

...at the same time, take the time to spread your wings and explore. Be adventurous. Don't look back and wish you would have done more while you were more of a free spirit. Fly.

I hope we've made you happy as you've made us. 

I hope you'll always remember how to laugh and have a good time. You have THE BEST sense of humor and it's something that can easily get lost. Nothing ever needs to be taken so seriously that you can't smile about it.

Now, and this is the most important thing I could ever express to you. No matter WHAT happens, I'm always a phone call away. Call your mother. Always. 

Happy Birthday Emily Rainn Warren!! I love you!!

(September 15, 2001. Emily and I getting ready to go home from the hospital)

Sad, pissed, hurt and disappointed

A few weeks ago I found out that one of my co-workers, we'll call her "Beth" has breast cancer. She is my age, had a baby last year and has another two boys that I would guess are under the age of 11. She beat breast cancer before 5 years ago and was looking to fight the good fight again. Last week she went to the Cancer Center in Chicago to find out exactly was going on in her body and start a game plan and treatment. Yesterday was her first day back to work. Unfortunately she had to leave ill due to the effects of the chemo she was given in Chicago. This morning I found out her cancer is stage 4, it has spread to her lungs, her liver, her bones and two other places that I don't even remember. This is not a fight she will likely win. I was heartbroken. I don't work with her often, mostly in passing and usually that only happens once every couple months but ours is a small department and we are all close.

Our department lead is a 25 year old "girl" who I used to have a lot of respect for. I don't always believe in the way she deals with things in her personal life, such as buying $80 swimsuits for her 5 year old, simply because they're Burberry (yes, she is a name-brand whore) and she smothers her two kids to the point that they will most likely hate her by the time they reach 12. (for example, she won't let her daughter eat lunch by herself at school because she--and I quote--"doesn't think a baby should have to eat lunch without her mommy." WTF, people???) but I digress. How she runs her personal life and raises her kids are her business, I only have to hear about it when we work together.

So my 25 year old "boss" doesn't like "Beth". She never has. She was hired just as my boss was coming into the department so she never really had a say when she was hired. "Beth" is not rich, by any means. She wears clothes that are either homemade or are pretty obviously old and outdated. She does not look sloppy. She comes to work clean and tidy but she doesn't not wear name brands. (oh the horror!) But guess what? Neither does anyone else in our office! At every opportunity my boss is given she gives "Beth" as much shit as possible. Things everyone else in the department gets away with, "Beth" does not. Keep in mind, "Beth" is not full-time. She works 4 days a pay period, just like me and also has another part-time job somewhere else where she does similar work as we do in the Switchboard. She's a nice person who was just dealt a very shitty hand.

When "Beth" found out she had cancer she told our boss and she also told her she was going to Chicago for treatment. With the way "Beth's" schedule works, she was basically going to have to miss one of her scheduled days for her trip to Chicago last week, but she had Earned Time to use in it's place. This shouldn't be a problem. Quite honestly our department could probably make due without "Beth" on the schedule but it works out a lot better with her there. We would just be shorthanded occasionally. Our supervisor didn't take this well though and called her at home and just ripped into her. Actually yelling at her and telling her she didn't have anyone to cover her. Why would you treat someone who just found out they have cancer like that you ask? Because my 25 year old boss doesn't think "Beth" has cancer. She has told a couple people in the department that she thinks she is lying. Who lies about that kind of thing???

Flash forward to yesterday when "Beth" came in for her first day back to work. She ended up having to leave early, as I said, because of the chemo treatment she received in Chicago. She called our boss at home and also explained to her the extent of her illness. Immediately after hanging up with "Beth" my boss called Employee Health about "Beth's" so-called illness.

Outing an employee's illness to Employee Health is a lot like telling your Nazi neighbors that your very Jewish friends are coming over for dinner tomorrow night at 7:00. Ok, maybe that's a little over the top but seriously, was that phone call necessary?? She did it because she doesn't believe "Beth" and wants her to have to prove herself. She's basically trying to shove her out of the department. What did Employee Health do? They immediately called "Beth" at home and told her she had two choices, 1. Keep working her scheduled days with no issues. 2. Quit. They said she does not qualify for FMLA because she is part-time and that if she can't work when she is scheduled then she doesn't need to return to work. WHAT. THE. FUCK??

Until about an hour ago I loved the company I work for. I really thought it was a great place to work that took care of it's employees. How can I support a hospital that would treat what is basically a terminally ill employee so badly? If we can't take care of our own, how are we taking care of our patients? I am sad, I am pissed, I am hurt and I am disappointed.

sad

Not long after I started at Trinity in 2006 I happened upon a blog quite accidentally. The author lives in Canada and had been writing his blog for several years (the blog recently turned 10) but he had just found out that he had colon cancer. This was in 2007. Most of his posts after that were about his fight with that cancer, but he was also able to blog about the things he loved blogging about, which was music, photography and techy/geeky crap, which quite honestly I had no interest in. It was his fight with cancer and most of his posts about music that interested me.

I never put it in my blogroll so his blog was one I normally only read at work whenever it crossed my mind to do so. In November of last year he realized he would not be winning his fight with cancer so he decided to stop his treatments. He started writing about death and what was happening to his body. I sort of put his blog out of my mind for a while and had a panic earlier tonight at work when I realized it had been a couple of months since I had read it. Sadly, on May 3rd, he passed away. His last post (besides one he had written to be posted after he died) was on April 27th. I had to go back to the last post I had read and start reading until what I knew was his last post. He left a wife of 23 years and two daughters.

What I know about Derek from reading his blog is that he was not afraid to die. Sad, of course that he would be leaving his family and that he would be missing out on all of the things that they will experience in life from this moment on, but not afraid. He was a man of science, studying biology so he knows that dying is a natural course of nature.

One of his lasts posts struck me as he talked about one of my favorite artists, Adele. He had been listening to her new album, which is simply fantastic, and was struck by one of her songs for his own reasons. You can read this post here:

Derek K. Miller

I have known since he posted back in November that he was ceasing his treatments that he would one day pass, but I had no idea how sad it would make me feel. A man I never even knew. I feel sad for his daughters who will not have their dad there with them through life. I feel sad for his wife who has lost the partner she has shared over half of her life with. Fuck cancer.

Love is a Battlefield...and so is Emily's room.

Today I recreated the final dance scene from the "Love Is A Battlefield" video for Adam while we were emptying Emily's room of all of her prized possessions. (More on that in a bit). Of course then I had to go watch the video on YouTube and then write a recap of the video for my Facebook friends because I think they count on me for these kinds of things. At least that's what I pretend. Now, I'm going to do the same for you:

Here is the word for word recap I posted to FB:

In case you forgot what the final dance scene in this video was like it starts at 3:20. If you need a little background, Pat Benetar is a 32 year old woman playing a 17 year old girl who gets kicked out of her house by her father who is a butcher played by Trey Wilson, who looks like Gny St. Hartman from Full Metal Jacket, but isn't. Pat then wanders the street in cool 80's/hooker clothes and finally lands a gig in a sweaty club as some sort of girl who dances with dudes while having a wishful/bored look on her face. Also, she writes letters to her little brother back home via snail mail. It's at this point the final dance scene begins when Pat and all of the other bored hooker clothing clad dancers start group dancing towards the club owner in some sort of angry "you can't tell us what to do because we have this dance thing and can snap our fingers" display. Pat declares "WE ARE YOUNG!" but really, they're all pushing 30. Pat throws a drink in the owner's face, they continue coming at him with their dance moves and then finally take their army to the street in 3x3 fashion. It's out here where they hug Pat good-bye and she hops on a bus going where...we do not know. Awesome video.

Now, regarding Emily's room. It's AWFUL. And I mean awful. It rivals any episode of Hoarders. So, last Monday I told her she had until this Monday to get it cleaned up or else we were packing everything up and storing it in the garage. At any point did Emily lift a finger last week to clean any of it? Nope. Are all of her toys, art supplies and the pile of earrings I found on a random piece of furniture now packed up and in the garage? Yep. Surprise!!! I don't know if she thought we were kidding but it turns out we weren't. She's gonna be so happy! Ok, maybe that's just us.

Updates

I'm skipping this Saturday's (and obviously last Saturday's) untitled posts simply because I've just become uninspired by them and want to wait until I have fun things to share, instead of a bunch of crap thrown together just to simply post them. Instead I thought I would ramble about things that are going on in our little family.

As per usual for us, when it rains it pours. It never fails that when one thing goes wrong in our family, everything else just starts to crumble slowly like an Angry Birds structure. A couple weeks ago we were notified by mail that Adam's unemployment was going to start being cut by about $125 a week. For those not very good with math, that's $500 a month. For a family that pretty much lives paycheck to paycheck this means something or somethings don't get paid. For us this week it meant groceries and cable. In fact on Monday night Adam fed the kids spaghetti noodles flavored with a packet of french onion soup and we didn't eat. The kids loved it. Thought it was Ramen.

On Tuesday I was driving the hour to Iowa City to take Blake to a doctor appointment at the Children's Hospital and my car overheated. The most awesome part was that I knew when I left the house that we had no money in our bank account and I had a whopping $18 in cash on me. I put $15 of it in my gas tank before we hit the interstate. Now we're sitting there on the shoulder of I-80 and I'm thinking, what the hell am I going to do?? I called our insurance company about our roadside assistance and explained that I needed a tow truck but didn't have the luxury of being able to pay for it and then get reimbursed. She hooked me up with a company that would just bill them for the tow. Thank you kind insurance lady!

So after two very sweaty hours of being stuck on the interstate, the tow truck came and Adam picked Blake and I up to take us home. Adam, also had very little gas in his tank so I gave him the $3 I had left to put in his tank. I figured it could make the difference between us getting back home and getting stuck on the interstate again. While I was digging in my purse I found a hidden eight bucks! Whoohoo!! I snatched the $3 back from Adam, gave him the $8 and took Blake inside the gas station for a much needed bottle of whatever he wanted to drink that didn't have "Monster", "Red Bull" or "Boone's Farm" on the label. He chose the biggest bottle of sweet tea he could find and sucked most of it down before we pulled up in front of the house. Way to dehydrate your six year-old, mom!

That night I talked to a close family member and they were able to loan us some money so we can afford gas and groceries. Thank you kind family member! As far as the car we still don't know what's wrong with it. It's still in the shop. Our mechanic is a friend of the family and we told him the car was being towed to him but that we were not in a hurry for it. It sucks being down to one car but we're making it work.

Today we dropped Emily off with her Girl Scout troop and they went on an overnight camping trip. It's been raining all day, it's supposed to rain all night but they have decent tents and a small cabin so they're making it work. I'm just hoping she doesn't come home with a bad cold or worse.

Tonight we had to pick up a few things from Wal-Mart. We were heading home around 9:00 and had just passed the movie theater. We got to the next intersection and standing there on the corner, in the dark, and the rain were five teenage girls, probably age 14-15. We had a red light and they ran across the street in front of our car. They all stopped in the median in the middle of the road and then, without realizing that traffic was heading into the intersection to turn left and head the opposite way we were heading, they all started running across the street again. A car turned and the first girl ran right after the car. A second girl didn't realize there was another car coming and she ran across the street too. This car just barely, and I mean BARELY missed her. In fact, if she felt the car tap her heel as she ran it wouldn't have surprised me. Adam and I saw it coming and I screamed as the car whizzed past her. All of us just sat there, frozen. The rest of the girls ran across the street laughing and one of them hugged the lucky girl. The worst part is that one of their parents had probably just dropped the girls off at the movies. Who knows where they were headed. Blake was watching all of it from the backseat and was just as freaked out as the rest of us. I'm soooo glad that the worst didn't happen and even more glad it didn't happen in front of my little boy. If I would have been the lady that was driving that car I would have pulled over and freaked out on them. I would have asked for their parents phone numbers so that they knew where they were. If me almost hitting you with my car didn't freak you out, lemme see what happens when you know I'm about to call your dad. Stupid, lucky little girl.

Eff You, April!!

I hate the month of April. So did my mom. Everything bad that ever happened to our family happened in April. My brother drown on April 27, 1983, ten days after his 23rd birthday. On April 27th, 1995 my mom had congestive heart failure. April 26, 1996 she had it again. This time it was worse and was followed by a mild stroke that went undiagnosed for about a week despite me and my sister telling the hospital staff that something was just not right. We thought it was a stroke. She had gone blind and paralyzed on her left side. They said she was just on a lot of meds and weren't concerned. Idiots. Luckily her strength and sight came back eventually. When my sister was driving mom to OSF St. Francis hospital in Peoria towards the end of March 1999 my mom commented that April was coming up. "Oh I hate that fucking April." She died on April 6th, 1999.

For me every year when May 1st rolls around it's a lot like coming out of the basement after a bad storm. I sort of pat myself, check for bruises, scrapes and broken bones, do a head count of everyone and take a deep breath. Then I put two fingers in the air. "Fuck you April! I made it!!"

Untitled Saturday

**In my own defense, I totally started this blog on Friday night, so it would be ready to post on Saturday but then Adam got all whiny and guilt tripped me into hanging out with him.

Because I know you're all wondering, yes, I did get up early Friday morning to watch the Royal Wedding. No, I don't care if you think it was stupid, nor do I care that you're "over it". Some people are into sports and playoffs and yada yada. I then get to read all about your wishes for draft picks, hopes for games you want won or and rants about missed plays. I get this one thing, ok? Ok.

So, even though it was just me and my Hello Kitty blanket wrapped up on the couch at 5am, (sigh....ok...yes, I have a Hello Kitty blanket. She's got street cred so shut up.) I still shouted "PIPPA!" every time they showed Pippa Middleton. Couldn't help it. In the end I enjoyed the quiet time sitting in the house with everyone sleeping while I watched the wedding, but most of all I liked the nap I took on the couch, still wrapped up in my HK blanket immediately afterwards.

For this week's post I have decided to share with you some of my favorite sellers and/or items currently found on Etsy. If you did not know, I have my own Etsy shop, http://www.ransomink.etsy.com/ where I sell brutally honest cards and mustache pins. I haven't sold much but I have sold a few dozen things and I like using my creativity to create my own merchandise. My cards and pins are also available at http://www.derbylittlesecrets.com/.

The first shop I ever purchased from on Etsy was from Snarky Cards. The shop is owned by Alisa Starr and she was my inspiration for my own line of cards. I purchased three cards, I believe for Jim. She hand paints them and then types the message using an old typewriter, leaving blanks for you to fill in whatever information is necessary. She also sells them in bars in a box that hangs around her neck, nestled under her boobs, old school cigarette girl style. Very clever indeed!

I love sugar skulls. In fact if I ever get a tattoo I think it would be a sugar skull. A couple years ago I decided I wanted some sugar skull paintings for our master bath. I bought them from Creepy Sugar. They match our shower curtain perfectly.

Loopy Boopy sells beautiful, haunting dolls. They are handmade of clay and I think most are around 10 inches tall. They are pricey and out of my budget but if I had the cash, I would consider treating myself to one of these dolls. They remind me of that NIN video.

An item I would love to have as well is the Dave Grohl finger puppet. Love it. Love Dave.

Not as cool or exciting as some of the other shops or items I've mentioned is this jewelry holder. I have a shit ton of jewelry, earrings mostly and they are becoming cluttered in my jewelry armoire. This will most likely be my next purchase. I plan on getting an all black one, wall mounted and the seller said they will add pegs to the bottom for me so I can hang necklaces or bracelets if I want, no extra charge. I thought that was cool of him.

These are pricey, but considering the work that went into them, probably reasonably priced. I am a huge RENT head and would covet these on my fridge. (How cute is Angel???) Would make a fantastic birthday gift!! Hint, hint.

...yeah...

One time I said I would do these blogs filled with interesting things to see and do on the Internet every Saturday. I've never posted them on a Saturday since. So sue me.

First of all, it's Royal Wedding week. Still super psyched about it, even though people are starting to seriously make fun of me. I can't help it, I'm a sucker for a lavish wedding. Also, in case you missed last week's episode of The Middle, the mother, played by Patricia Heaton is also coo coo for the royal wedding and even said something that was almost a direct quote of what I said to Adam just a few days before. "She's arriving in a car and leaving in a carriage! It's like she's arriving a commoner and leaving a princess!!" Ok, maybe I do deserve to be made fun of! I may have gone totally batshit crazy. Anyway, what I'm trying to say in this rant is that this week I discovered that Kate Middleton has a sister named Pippa. PIPPA!! It's such a smarky name that I love it!! I want to change my middle name to Pippa. I want to bear a child and name it Pippa. I'm totally naming all 72 sea monkeys the kids got for Christmas that simply will NOT die, Pippa!! (all except for that dead one attached to one of the living ones. That guy is still named, Doug.) I love it.

I found out about Pippa from this article from Celebitchy. First let's just go ahead and put it out there because I know what you're thinking. Kate is definitely the hotter sister and that's probably why she landed the prince, (though you can't argue with the fact that Pippa has a pretty incredible set of legs) but from the article it sounds like Pippa is on a man hunt of her own. I like how it describes her and her friends as incestuous. It's actually how I think all celeb groups of friends are. Just keep screwing each other and only date from within your circle. There's gonna be a scandal sometime in the next two years and it's going to involve Pippa, a list of sexual partners and a trunk load of coke. You heard it here first.

This is a site I used to love to read all night long at work until such sites were blocked. It is Overheard In New York. From here you can also find Overheard In The Office, Overheard At The Beach and Overheard Everywhere. Some of the things you will find here will crack your shit up.

Texts From Last Night is another one of those blogs that you end up reading and then suddenly it's three hours later. There are so many of these that have made me think, oh god, I've been to that party. Or, "Yikes! I did that too...wonder if Jim remembers why I did that??" One of my favorite texts from the site is:  "We convinced you to take a shot out of the sponge...there were still suds in it." I like to think the entire premise for the movie, The Hangover was based on this website. Classic.

To go along with Texts From Last Night is the After 12 link on Failblog. If you have a weak stomach for pictures of people puking, I probably wouldn't check this link out.

Conversations with a redneck

About 37 times a day I have the most bizzarre conversations with Adam. They started very early in our relationship. At one point I started writing them down but then quit about the time we got engaged because I feared if I ever looked back on what I had written down, and saw the crazy things that come out of his mouth, the whole marriage thing would end up being a deal breaker. Totally kidding, Adam!!!! (I'm totally not kidding).

Anyway, I came across one that I had actually documented from a few months ago and thought I would share.

Me: I want an electric blanket for Christmas.
Adam: No! They're dangerous. Don't you remember 'The Burning Bed'?
Me: That had nothing to do with an electric blanket and everything to do with the fact that she POURED GASOLINE ON HIM IN HIS SLEEP AND SET HIM ON FIRE.
Adam: Is that what it was about? I never saw it.
Me: OMG. Well if Michael Jackson wouldn't have died, you probably would have had MANY opportunities to see it on cable.
Adam: Why? Was Farrah Fawcett in it?
Me: .....

yeah...there's still no title here....

I was a bit too hungover and a bit too busy to do my usual Saturday blog about places to check out on the Internet. I apologize for that, however I am making it up to you now.

For this post of random things you can find on the Internet, I have decided to share with you some blogs that I enjoy reading. Some I have read for years, others are new.

The first blog is Dear Audrey. It is written by Julia Cho who's husband died suddenly at the age of 33 last July. She started it just a couple weeks later in order to help her through her grief and pain and as a way for their daughter to be able to look back and see her mother's memories. There is something about her feelings and grief that is familiar to me. I relate to it because of my own grief when my mom died, although her pain, I am sure is far deeper and more unimaginable, as it should be. She is a gifted writer.

The next two are pretty popular blogs that you may already be reading or have at least heard of. The first is Dooce. Heather Armstrong's writing style is one I would love to be able to duplicate. She rarely has a post that doesn't make me burst out a loud, "HA!" I keep meaning to pick up one or both of her books, but I never think about it when I'm out shopping and never think to ask for them as gifts. Whenever I'm asked what famous person I would like to have dinner with, either living or dead, I usually answer Robert Downey Jr., but adding Heather Armstrong to that invite list, would be AWESOME. Someone make that happen for me.

The second popular blog is one I haven't been reading too much in the last several months but it is a great one. It is Matt, Liz & Madeline. If you do not know Matt Logelin's story, it is a blog that Matt started to document he and Liz's "adventures" for family mostly who lived out of state while he and his wife were expecting their first child. Liz ended up on bed rest in the hospital for several weeks. An emergency c-section was performed on March 24, 2008. Because of complications Liz was kept from their new baby, Madeline and wasn't able to hold her. Twelve hours later on March 25th when she was finally able to get out of bed and see her new little girl Liz stood, looked in the mirror to fix her hair and was struck with a blood clot that travelled to her lungs and she quickly passed away. Matt kept his blog going and writes about his struggles as a single-father, widow and man just trying to raise his little girl as he and his wife would have. His blog has blown up around the world and Matt has found himself on Rachel Ray, Oprah and probably other shows I just can't think of. He has written a book called Two Kisses for Maddie and has started a foundation in his wife's name. Remarkable man.

If you are a child of the 80's then you have to check out this blog but do it only if you have at least an hour to spend on it. It is x-entertainment.com. This website is everything you want to see to remind you of the 80's. It's the commercials you watched during Saturday morning cartoons. Remember, "Honeycomb's big. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! It's not small. No! No! No!" Or commercials for Smurf pasta, Rolo, Chef Boyaree Hamburger Italiano, Cricket the talking doll, the old Krazy Glue commercials, that annoying Encyclopedia Brittanica kid, Speak n' Spell, the Twizzlers commercials with that red mouth, and Play-Doh Fun Factory. All of those commercials are there as well as pictures and posts about old McDonalds toys, their tray liners, discontinued sodas, Macy's Thanksgiving Day parades, ANYTHING. This site is addictive, promise.

*Insert clever, snarky title here

I've decided I want to write a blog post every Saturday and share with you some of the outrageous things you can check out on these here Internets. I want to call it something cool like "The Saturday Morning Funnies" or "The Shits" but I don't really like either of those names so we'll leave it un-named for now. If you can think of something clever, send it to me so I can steal it and call it my own. Kinda like what the Cookies BBQ Sauce Guy did to my dad. (So says dad. It's a cray story I'll save for another time)

So, I'm super pumped for the Royal Wedding coming up at the end of the month (true story). There's a lot of merchandise being sold with Willy & Kate's likeness. (it's ok, they TOTALLY let me call them that) FYI, I wouldn't be disappointed if the Easter Bunny left me one of these in my basket. OMG! I could totally store it next to my purple Princess Di Beanie Baby. Adam wrapped mine in saran wrap to protect it from...well I'm not really sure what he was thinking but it's been suffocating in there since about 2002.

If you haven't seen the Funny or Die video with Billy Crystal and Helen Mirren doing When Harry Met Sally 2. Do it! Added bonus, it's HELEN MIRREN for Christ's sake! She's like the hottest 66 year-old you'll ever know.

In case you didn't already know, I collect vintage Coca-Cola memorabilia. I have a pretty vast collection which for the most part is stored away because I simply don't have the room to display it. Karl Lagerfeld designed Diet Coke bottles, however?? Yes, ma'am! Gotta have 'em!

Man Cannot Remove His Tiny Hat. How this guy isn't one of my friends, I have no idea.

I just wanna go ahead and put this out there. Despite the fact that winter in our area seems to be over with, (FINALLY!) if at any time someone feels the need to physically remove snow from my yard, I won't be upset. Really.

Memories of my mom

Twelve years ago today my mom passed away. I think about her all the time. She had wanted to be a grandma so badly and it’s so sad that she never got to see her grandkids. Whenever one of the kids does something funny, or naughty or unbelievable I think, OMG. If mom were still alive she would be cracking up right now. Or the times when Blake does something naughty (you know, like all the time) I can just hear her saying, “Oh no! He wouldn’t do that!! Not my little buddy! He’s such a sweetheart!” Don't get me wrong, there would have been times she would have called him a “little shit” because that’s just how she was. She cussed like a sailor and I loved it. She got a lot of slack for it from some of her brothers. They would tell her she shouldn’t cuss so much but that’s just how she was.

Sometimes the kids channel her, I swear. When Emily was about three she was at my sister’s house helping to decorate the Christmas tree. The whole time she just wanted to put on the tinsel, asking, “Is it time now?” Now is it time?” Finally when it was all said and done and the tinsel was on and the tree was lit up, Emily stood back and said, “God damn, that’s pretty!!”

Every time Adam gets a new tattoo, talks about a new tattoo, or starts stretching the holes in his ears I hear mom saying, “Oh god damn. Don’t do that! That makes my teeth itch just thinking about it.” She would hate it if you touched your pierced ears--gave her the creeps. “If God wanted me to have holes in my ears he would have given them to me at birth!”

When I told my friends I was dating Adam they would say, “Adam?? That guy with all the piercings.” When I brought him home to meet the family I had to call my sister to have her warn mom. I didn’t want her sitting there staring at him.

“Uuhhh…I just wanted to warn you guys…Adam has a few…piercings.”

“Ok.”

“Like not in his ears.”

“Um. Ok.”

“His eyebrow is pierced.”

“Yeah…”
"His tongue."
"Uh-huh."

“And his lip.”

“K…”

“Twice.”

“I better warn mom.”

I was expecting a phone call or two about Adam after that first meeting. To my amazement Mom loved him. In fact she never even looked at him weird at all. I was shocked. A few months later when I got a job offer an hour away from home I called my mom with the news I was moving. “But what will you do with poor little Adam?” was all she was concerned about. “Well I’m taking him with me.” I said. “Good.”

Two days before she passed away was Easter. She was in the hospital at OSF St. Francis in Peoria and Adam, my sister and I drove up to see her. Adam was having issues with his sinuses and had us stop on the way out of town to pick up some sinus meds. It wasn’t until we were almost all the way to the hospital that Adam confessed he had taken four pills, instead of the recommended two. We weren’t in the room for very long before he PASSED. OUT. I was sorta mad at him. I kicked him in the leg and told him to wake up. My mom said, “Leave him alone! He’s tired! Let him sleep!”

“He’s only sleeping cuz he took twice as many sinus pills as he was supposed to!”

“Well he must have really been feeling bad then to take that many. Let him sleep.”

She totally defended him.

Once he woke up my mom put him to work.
“Hey hon? Would you come over here and scratch my back? God, it itches so bad!”

Adam sat there for a half hour scratching her back and never complained. He must have known she stuck up for him when he was passed out for two hours. Lol

Whenever I think of my mom I usually think of that last day we saw her, but there are also so many other memories I have. Usually they involve her doing or saying something crazy.  One time back in high school my best friend came over to help us clean out the attic. I think she got paid with my mom’s lasagna. Anyway, once you were up there you would have to walk side step next to the hole where the stairs come down to get over to where my mom was cleaning and organizing. When you did this you also had to walk hunched over with your head facing down to the downstairs because of the slope in the roof. There goes my mom in front of us and she says, “Oh I hate this! It makes my twat quiver!”

We have a pretty big extended family. My mom had eight brothers and sisters so that made for a lot of nieces and nephews for her and a shit ton of cousins for me. I think most all of them have some sort of Aunt Norlene story. All of them probably involve a card game or something raunchy, yet hilarious that came out of her mouth. Mostly likely both at the same time. Our family is big into playing cards, usually for cash, so whenever there is a get-together it always ends with a game or five of something. My mom was hilarious to listen to when we would play cards. She'd whisper curse words at you whenever you'd throw her a rotten card, or pick up a card she wanted or needed, or if you'd win the hand, or if she plain old thought you sucked.

"Oh, well goddamn, thank you for the two! You're just too, too kind."

"You sonofabitch! I knew you'd pick up that card."

"Well shit, that's not gonna work."

"What the fuck did you play that for?"

"Well my hand has gone to shit."

"I might as well shove these fucking cards up my ass. They'd do me about as much good."

She'd play dirty too if she had to. A little cheat here and there she never thought anything of it.

My mom used to do crafts and then travel to craft shows with a small group of her friends that also did crafts. Mostly near the Chicago area. Almost every night she would stay up really late painting ceramic Christmas villages or haunted houses, or whatever and watch movies. Usually the same movies over and over. Rain Man, Steel Magnolias, and the made for TV movie, Elvis and Me were some of her favorites. We lived with my grandma, my mom's mom.

I was a teenager so whenever I was home I was usually in my room with the door shut. Not so much to avoid my mom but mostly to avoid my grandma. Teens and grandmas don't really mix well. At least not me and mine. Once my grandma would go to bed I would come out of my hiding place and sit out in the living room, and hang out with mom while she did her crafts. She would be watching tv, or a movie and usually I would read whatever V.C. Andrews book I was into at the time. Once I got my driver's license mom would say, "Hey Amy, wanna make a run for the border?" Then she'd hand over the keys to the car and some money and I'd go to Taco Bell. Those nights just sitting there reading a book and chatting about whatever with my mom I think are the moments I miss the most.

I've only been to my mom's grave once since she passed away and that was on the day I got married. My sister insisted on going to put a bunch of daffodil's on her grave. They were her favorite flower and I had them in all of my bouquets. I just can't go there. It's not where my mom is. My mom is in my heart and in the million different memories I have of her. I think she'd understand.

Another Old Blog Post

This is a copy of a blog I posted on February 14, 2009. We ended up with a surplus of Valentine's so we took the kids to a local nursing home and passed them out to the residents. What follows is what happend on that trip.





We're Having Her Over For Pot Roast and Shots of SoCo Next Friday Night.

Our trip to the nursing home went rather smoothly. The entrance to the facility opened to a common room where there were about 10 or so residents. The kids somewhat shyly started passing out valentines and chocolate hearts. One of the first residents to greet us was a woman we soon found out was named Shirley. Shirley had the voice of James Earl Jones but seemed innocent enough. She came over and knelt down in front of Blake and started talking to him and praised us about how well behaved "the children" were.

"Just wait." I thought. "We've only been here 87 seconds." The kids kept passing out valentines and candy to those in the common room and Shirley followed behind talking the whole time about how much she loves "the children." Emily gave a valentine to a woman who looked to be one of the youngest in the place who was sitting on a couch, holding a baby doll. I imagined her taking it everywhere and freaking out if people touched it but soon enough Shirley was holding it and the woman seemed happy to get rid of it for a while. Maybe it was colicky.

So, after we were done in the common area we decided to mosey on to the patient floors. Shirley, carrying the baby, decided to tag along. When we exited the common area we came into sort of the "hub" of the place. There were more couches and chairs, a large atrium full of birds and three hallways to choose from filled with patient rooms. There were a few residents hanging out in the hub, however most of them were sleeping. One man was wide awake and apparently looking for some company. He kept saying, "HI! Hello. Hi there!" As we passed him Shirley very bluntly told him she wasn't talking to him. "I'm with these children. They are very precious to me." Then she apologized to us for talking that way. "I just need to be with these children right now. I haven't seen them in a while. They used to come all the time." About halfway through the first hall a nurse tried to get Shirley to leave us alone. "I know these people." She said. Adam turned to the nurse and told her it was ok, she was fine and that she was escorting us around the place. Shirley seemed satisfied with that answer and then her praise was all over Adam. "He's wonderful. He's got a big heart. How nice."

"We'll see how big you think his heart is, Shirley when he holds YOU down and tries to lick you face like a dog, turns the channel every 5.7 seconds, forces you to watch Knight Rider or when he takes the last Mt. Dew in the house. He's not so wonderful then."

We popped in and out of rooms all the while Shirley was either commenting on the temperature of the hallway or the patient room, or she was praising the children and talking about all the wonderful times she's spent with them in the past.

"Oh. It's cold in here."

"It's nice and warm out here."

"I remember the last time he came here (referring to Blake) and he came in and we just started running all over and everyone said, 'Oh, there goes Aunt Shirley running again!"

"It's chilly out here. It was warm in that room."

She told one nurse she'd known us for years. "Oh Shirley." She said. "You're always bringing your friends here." I guess we weren't the only long lost friends she's had come visit her.

When we were almost done, Shirley tried to give the baby to Emily. "Oh she doesn't need it. She has a lot of them." Adam told her. Good thing too. I don't need no colicky baby in the house.

When we were all done and as we started to walk out the door, some alarms started going off. In the third person Shirley said, "Oh, those go off all the time when Shirley's out here." Adam tracked down a nurse assuming we were supposed to enter some code on the keypad next to the door before we opened it.

"No. It's because of her." pointing to Shirley. She wears an alarm so we know if she's trying to go outside." Then she tried getting Shirley to go back inside. "I need to stay with the children. I'm with that little boy. He is so precious to me. My heart just went out to the children."

Happy Valentines day, Shirley.

Please keep your hands inside the ride at all times.

So, Tuesday afternoon I got a call from my sister that my dad had fallen down the escalator at JC Penney. He was almost at the top when he went to step off, lost his balance and fell backwards about 10 steps. He wasn't able to get to his feet quickly (who would, really) and the fun part about an escalator is that it continues to climb so he would tumble a couple step every time he reached the top. Finally someone got them stopped and a few employees were able to grab him and keep him from going backwards again.

The fire department was called and they were SOOOO HELPFUL! By SOOOO HELPFUL I mean they sucked ass. Basically they got my dad up on his feet and helped him get upstairs to finish his shopping. Yep, you read that right. They didn't check him over, didn't ask about any medical conditions, nothing. On Thursday my sister called them and asked them why this wasn't done. Their reasons were that 99% of the people who need help aren't wearing a medic alert and also that they aren't going to go digging in the shirt of someone who is conscious to see if they have a medic alert necklace. My sister said they should have at least asked if he had any medical conditions or medications he was taking. Of all people I would think the fire department and medics understand that when an incident happens, the victims are often times confused, embarrassed, shaken, etc. We're pretty sure if our dad had been asked about medications he would have thought about his blood thinner and how dangerous even a small bruise can be.

So, after my dad was so easily dismissed he drove himself to my sister's work, however she wasn't there, she was at a doctor's appointment. Her assistant was able to reach her cell phone and she met Dad at his apartment.

It had only been a couple hours since he had falling but by the time she saw him he was covered in huge black bruises. She took him to the ER where he checked out fine but they wanted to keep him overnight for observation.

The next day they were concerned about his bruises spreading so they marked around them and kept him another night. Thursday they had spread again by the afternoon and so they've given him a blood transfusion and kept him again last night. He was finally able to go home on Friday.

My sister and I have always compared our dad to Archie Bunker. While he is a pretty sweet guy he is also very opinionated when it comes to anyone of another gender, race or non-union. The relationship between my husband and him has increased 3000% since we got married but the first several years it was very much a Meathead/Archie type arrangement. Pretty sure my dad thought Adam was just some big dummy who married his little girl. But now that Adam works in construction for a company owned by one of my dad's oldest friends, even though they're non-union (the horror!) he has a new-found respect for him.

As an example, one late night I was watching All In The Family with my sister. I was actually in the hospital having just given birth to Emily and it was just Lisa and I. Archie was telling Meathead that his Lodge does not let in any Blacks but they do have a midget. Meathead told him that was prejudice and Archie said it wasn't--they put a step stool in front of the urinal so the midget has just as much chance of making it in there as everyone else. My sister and I were ROLLING! It was exactly something my dad would say. The next day we asked Dad, "Hey, do you have any blacks in your union?" Dad said, "No. Hell no!" (pretty sure that's incorrect, but might have been true the last time my dad went to a union meeting back in the 80's). "Well, do you have any midgets?"
"Yeah, sure we do!"
"Do you put a step-stool in front of the urinals for him?" (snicker)
"What? Hell, I don't know."
"You should. It's what Archie would do."

An oldie but a goodie

This is a portion of a blog I posted in June 2009. Adam and I had gone out for my birthday and what happened was interesting, to say the least. The part where I talk about Jim is funny because who knew I'd be hat tricking in his car just a few months later. lol...and if you don't know the hat trick story well...maybe I'll share it sometime. MAYBE.

......................

At the bar there was also a group of guys who were out for their buddy's bachelor party. They were dressed like they had been out all day golfing. The guy getting married was a total douchebag. He was dressed like a douchebag (which, btw is plaid golf shorts and a cream polo, in case you were wondering) and he talked like a douchebag. You could tell that his buddies (all three of them) were really sick of listening to him babble on and on. That's what he did the entire time they were there was go on and on about the same thing over and over. I know this because he stood right freaking behind my stool. First he went on and on about how he was marrying his best friend.

"She's my best friend."
"I'm actually marrying my best friend."
"Like you guys are my friends, but she's my BEST friend."
"Everyone always says they married their best friend, but I am ACTUALLY doing it."
"She's totally my best friend. Like, if I came home and said, I crapped in my pants today she would be like, 'Oh.' because she's my best friend and she wouldn't care."

--OK. Let me just interject here and say, if she was your best friend, she SHOULD care that you crapped your pants. Like, if my best friend Jim came over and was like, "Wawa, I crapped my pants today." I'd be like, "WTF?? WHAT?? Why the hell did you crap your pants? Is there some issue I need to know about? Were you sick from something? Did you eat too many prunes today? Does this happen often or do we need to seek out medical attention?" I would hope ANYONE, not just my best friend would be concerned about the fact that I just crapped my pants, if for no other reason than they just don't want me to sit on their couch.

Anyway, later the conversation turned to what the name of his first born son will be. He named off one name which he kept repeating over and over. He likes it because it's the name of his favorite baseball player. I don't remember the name, it wasn't one that I recognized but I do remember, even after drinking the liquid scotch tape, that it sounded just as douche-y as he was acting. After that his second choice is Grady. "Isn't that a cool name? Grady? Grady Insert-whatever-his-last-name-is-here? I like it. Don't you like it? I really like that name. Grady. Isn't that cool? Grady? All of his buddies were silent. They all knew it was a douchebag redneck name.

Do people even do this anymore?

I started a blog (which I still have) back in 2007 when I think blogging was a lot more "trendy" or "mainstream". Now, I'm not sure a lot of people even blog anymore. I know several of the blogs I used to follow, their writers have sort of forgotten about them.

For me blogging is a great way to express the ten million random thoughts that go thru my head in a day. I've been expressing them for the last year or so on Facebook, but there's only so much i can write in 160 characters, or however many the FB Gods give you, and I know my FB peeps get tired of seeing me pop up in their feed 25 times a day, especially when I'm in an especially observant mood.

I haven't written on my current blog in several months but I've had a desire to start blogging again. I wanted a place to sort of carry over everything I've been posting on Facebook in a more extended fashion, but I also wanted the new blog to be something I would feel comfortable having people I actually knew read it. Sometimes it's easy to write about places, things or people when you know none of your readers actually know you or your family. I think it takes more courage to put yourself out there for everyone when everyone is people you might serve a covered dish to at the next family gathering.

I will be linking my blog on my Facebook everytime I post something new. I think I might also copy and paste some old blog posts to here from my previous blog that I wouldn't mind everyone reading. I have one in mind that I would love to share but want to re-read it first. I am really proud of some of the things I have written previously, plus it's fun to go back and see the things that have happened to you that you had forgotten about. It's a lot like reading your texts on Sunday morning after a particularly drunken Saturday night. Not that I have any experience with that or anything...