Reality check

We were all snuggled up on the bed , having just finished reading a story when my tender-hearted , 5 year old  offered to give me a  back rub. I was most definitey enjoying the moment....even thinking I might doze off for a minute when suddenly.....SMACK!  He took that sweet little hand and slapped me right on my side where my.....ahem.....'muffin top' resides. 

"OUCH!" I said angrily...... "What was that for????" 

"I was giving you a spanking on your butt" he replied.

"Well....that's not my butt......its my side" I explained.

A few moments of silence followed and I began to settle back into my happy, sleepy state of mind only to have him break the silence with this.....

"Mommy....you might want to know this. Your "side" has a little bit of your butt on it!"

(Its a good thing he's so cute.....)

 

I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried!

I'm sure you can picture it.....

The party was festive and fun....the people warm and inviting and the conversation lovely. We were all sitting in a large circle, visiting and laughing when suddenly...out of the blue...my 10 year old son asks from across the circle.....

"Mom....what's a douche bag?"   (talk about a conversation stopper!)

With flaming cheeks I quietly say, "Lets chat about that later sweetie'. To which he (thankfully) replies "ok". I think he could tell that it wasn't really 'party talk'. Unfortunately I didn't just let it drop there...which in hindsight....would have been the best choice since we did now have quite an audience of wide-eyed spectators. No....instead I ask, "where did you even hear that?' to which he replies......

"Dad called someone that today when were driving in his car!"

Father of the year anyone?????

Oh....the holidays!!!

As the frantic final week of Christmas arrives, I am personally feeling a little overwhelmed. We have had a BUSY month....full of activity, excitement and of course....stress!

Sometimes its hard for me to slow down and really reflect on the meaning of the season and the things I am thankful for. I think you will understand better after reading/singing the following song I wrote about life in the Flanigan house.

(Please sing to the tune....'what child is this?")

What child is this.... who 

in the house kicked a soccer ball

through the window glass?

Whom mommy greets with stomping feet 

and thoughts of spanking his a#%.

This, this is child #2, whom 

makes a mess in every room.

sigh,sigh...try not to cry

the month is just beginning.

What child is this...who rolls her eyes

at every thing I do or say?

Who threatened to scream 

over the flu vaccine

and acts like we're all in her way.

This,this is child #1,who

thinks we are lame and not any fun.

sigh,sigh...try not to cry

December is just halfway over.

What child is this....who 

walks in his sleep and 

keeps his mommy from counting her sheep.

Who never stops eating and always is bleeding

from taking such huge flying leaps.

this, this is child #3, who's

broken most ornaments on the tree.

Sigh, sigh...try not to cry

December is almost over.

So bring me food and drugs and beer

I need it to capture this Christmas cheer

2008 hasn't been too great

Let's hear it for 2009!

Merry Christmas Everyone! (don't worry....I really DO love my kids and plan on keeping them)

CALGON.....TAKE ME AWAY!

This morning I was on a mission. Drop kids off...gym...shower...errands....store.....all before I needed to pick Kellen up at 12:15. Every minute mattered. Every single one.  I was actually doing well until I made that fateful stop in the laundry room, on my way out for errands, to fold one last load of towels. Thats where my day took a turn for the worse.

(Hmmm....funny how so many of my posts are about time spent in the laundry room. This should tell you 2 things: 1) I have a very boring life and 2)I spend a fair amount of it washing clothes). 

So there I was, quickly floding my clean, fluffy towels and listening to the washer fill. I was even feeling a little smug as I realized that not only was I a few minutes ahead of schedule, but that my precise timing was going to allow me to throw the stuff from the washer into the dryer before I left. My heart soared.....my feeling of accomplishment growing with every moment.

Suddenly, I heard some strange noises in the distance which pulled me from my happy place. It sounded like rushing water....Maybe a little like someone was in the shower....only I was the only one home. Hmmmmm??? I pause for a moment longer, trying to figure out what it could be because now I hear another noise....a thumping noise.....like the noise the sump pump in the basement makes when we are flooding.....HOLY CRAP! I tear out of the laundry room and as I do....the sound of rushing water gets louder. Its coming from the bathroom. The bathroom???? What the heck????

I switch on the light and much to my delight....the toilet is spilling laundry water all over the floor. In addition, the bathtub is also filling with bubbly liquid that smells of Tide. As fast as my legs will carry me, I run back into the laundry room to stop the washer. As I dive for the knob that will stop the spin cycle (and hopefully stop Niagra falls in the bathroom) my sweater catches on the little sensor that exists inside the door of a dryer (which tells the dryer that the door is closed and allows it to...well.... dry clothes)  and rips 

it clean off of the appliance. So now I have a flood, a broken dryer, and a crazy long piece of snagged yarn hanging off my sweater. In addition, the sump pump is still making its thumping noises in the basement....... I'm afraid to look.

I have a hunch that Tom isn't going to be too happy about this. 

I have also lost that warm fuzzy feeling of accomplishment.

After the waters receded, I assessed the damage. 

Tub, toilet and floor.....cleaner than they were before the flood.

Basement....damp but smells nice (at least now). Sump pump did its job. Yeah! (by friday it will likely smell like mildew ....or urine)

Sweater....slightly more vintage looking. I managed to creatively tuck the dangling yarn.

Schedule for my 'productive' morning......completely shot.

Dryer....silent. Broken. not working.

You may think this is the end of the story......sadly its not.

For some reason....I decided that I should try to fix the dryer. I really can't say what posessed me to take on this project. I know nothing about dryers. Perhaps I was blinded by my obsession to acheive on this day. I still had much laundry to do and was not willing to concede. Plus...how hard could it be????? 

I managed to slightly lift the top off. Maybe 3 inches. Just enough to reach my beefy arm in there and feel around for the backside of the sensor button. The top of the dryer, which as you may recall, is only open like 3 inches.... is cutting off all circulation to my hand and probably making actual cuts in my arm. Suddenly...  I find the sensor with my throbbing fingers....and then listen as it drops deep into the bowels of the appliance....most likely never to be seen again. Sh*T!!!!! With much effort and wiggling.....I free my nearly amputated appendage. I did manage to pull out the box of wires that controls this sensor button.  Somehow (I'm unsure of exactly how...possibly divine intervention), I manipulated that box of wires with a screwdriver and a strategicaly placed sliver of tape . Now, the dryer runs and actually never stops....even with the door open....it just dries and dries....unless of course you pull the screwdriver out. (which is what is holding the whole thing together.) Its very tricky. Please don't try this at home. Also, please dont' call to borrow my dryer.

.

Here is a photo of my handi-work. Maybe you'll agree that I should stick to nursing......

What happens when men are left in charge....

some pics from Halloween...

Colleen as captain Jack Sparrow....

Miss America and first runner up!

my day as a (half) marathoner.....

The alarm went off at 7. 

Holy cow...it's race day. Once again I think..."what was I thinking when I signed up for this?" But I have already paid my money and I'm too cheap to not at least get a shirt for that so... I get out of bed and try to figure out what one wears to run when it's 22 degrees. Let me repeat that...its 22 degrees. I'm not even sure I CAN run when its that cold. I decide to go with the 'zero gravity, wonder woman sports bra", dri-fit shirt topped off with a pink running sweatshirt (which I think looks quite nice with the pink stripe on my nike's),sweats, hat, gloves and handwarmers. One bowl of cheerios and one cup of coffee and we're off. 

On the way downtown, Tom "encourages" me by telling me that he's heard this is the 'worst and hilliest' run around. He makes some groaning noises as I describe the course and finishes off the pep talk by commenting on how few people are at the starting line. ( I think he thought my chances of actually coming in last were pretty high...especially with so few competitors). 

I jump out of the car, after a good luck kiss and an "I hope you don't die" embrace to join the other runners.

I quickly find a few people I know and we huddle together, trying to keep warm. All around us runners are jogging around, stretching, etc.  and I start to feel insecure about my 'warm up" (which consisted of flexing my legs while sitting on the seat heaters in my car) so I throw in a few knee bends and lunges. A few minutes later we're ready to start....

Gun goes off! Michael Jackson is singing "wanna be startin' somethin'" on my ipod and I feel empowered to be a part of the "small-ish" swarm of bodies pounding the pavement.

Mile 1: Feeling good. Starting to get a little sweaty so I ditch the dollar store hat. There are a lot of people passing me at this point as everyone falls into their pace. WOW! I start to wonder "how long until people stop passing me!"

Mile 2:I thought I was seroiusly kicking butt at this point because it had only been like 7 minutes since mile 1. My accomplishment was short lived, however, because a few minutes later I passed another "mile 2" sign and realized that the first ego-crushing sign was for the full marathon (which was going on concurrently.) By the way....People are still passing me.

Mile 3-6: Basically uneventful except for the soreness I started experiencing in my toe. I walked for about a minute to shed my sweatshirt and gloves and decided that I run faster when listening to 'bust a move'.....  

Mile 6:My terriffic dad shows up on the course to give me water and shed some tears. I hope it was because he was proud of me and not because I looked like I might end up in a medical tent. 

Mile 7: Some lady in front of me dropped her really nice running glove which I bent down and grabbed. I then spent the next mile trying to catch her. I think that really helped my time! Maybe if I ever do this again someone should run in front of me with a donut or something so that I'm actually chasing them??? I wonder how fast I'd finish??

(I did finally catch her in case you were wondering)

Mile 8-9:Pretty much from here on out, it sucked. My toe was killing me, my knees were aching, the people around me were annoying with all of their breathing and shoes on the pavement noises. I hated the spectators with their clapping and cheering. My ipod was uninspiring. Did I mention the fact that people were STILL passing me? I begged Tom to give me a ride. (I think he thought I was kidding)

Mile 10: I got another small boost which was soon squelched by reality. Suddenly these REALLY FAST men were running up behind me and passing me (big surprise). I was thinking to myself, "How in the WORLD did I stay ahead of these stellar athletes for 10 miles? I am a stud!" Moments later I realized that our course had just merged with the marathon course and these men were the elite runners, about to finish 26 miles and finish them before I could finish 13. UGH! I thought about trying to draft behind them but by the time I decided that, I couldn't see them anymore. (There is also not much of a 'draft' when you're only going like...2 miles an hour.)

Mile 11-12: Just... keep... g-o-i-n-g.....I had to keep telling myself this. Everything hurt at this point and to top it all off, we were now running on a gravel/dirt road with a sidewalk that was like...2 feet up from the road. I had to go from sidewalk to road a few times(to pass people..yes, I finally passed someone) and let me tell you...it was painful! My legs were lead. I think I was almost running in place! The really fun part was when a car would go by and spin up some dust into my already burning lungs. My dad showed up again to 'run me in' and/or check me in to the hospital. One quarter of a mile from the finish my sister-in-law Ann joined us (who had already finished. GO ANN!)and the 3 of us ran in with Tom snapping our photo. I was never so glad to see a finish line. 

So here I sit, on the couch. I am thankful to mark this off my 'list' and I  do feel accomplished. I did it!!! I am sporting my new tee shirt and also a half dollar sized blister on the bottom of my big toe. In addition,I feel worn out, sore, and like I might have diarrhea at any moment. I'm not sure that I am really cut out to be a runner but for today....

I am a (half)-MARATHONER!

 

A new feature...

Click on the tab to the left to become an 'official' follower of my blog. I'm planning to send one lucky follower on an all expense paid vacation to somewhere really awesome. (The winner however, will not be announced to the rest of you and will be chosen by an ultra secret mathematical equation that I am not at liberty to share).

The tale of the stinky washing machine.

Its nearly bedtime but there are still enough minutes in the day to put one last load in the washing machine. I scoop the pile of whites up off the laundry room floor, throw in some Tide and start the washer. Off to dreamland and then to work the following morning. That afternoon, I remember my wet laundry and head into the laundry room to start the dryer. Hmmm.....when I open the lid to retreive the washed items....it smells. Not too bad,  but definitely not that nice clean laundry smell I am used to. I decide that it probably stinks because it sat all day in the machine and so I just restart the washer and throw in a little "biz" to help with the odor. Skip ahead 2 hours and I attempt to repeat the "move the clothes from the washer to the dryer' routine.... but this time, when I open the lid, it REALLY stinks. Rotten and nasty and horrible. What the heck???? I can't figure it out???? Could my laundry soap be expired? Let's try this one last time, but THIS time...I'm adding bleach. Swish,swish,swish....load done. Open lid and sniff. HOLY COW!!! My eyes are watering and my nostrils burning as the scent of...well....crap..... fills the air and infiltrates every square inch of the room. Now I'm sure that someone has taken a dump in the washer or something. The strange twist is that the clothes LOOK clean....they just smell like butt. I guess something must be wrong with the washer?? I decide to pull the wet shirts out in order to rescue them from any further 'stinkage' and also, try to see if I can locate the source of the offensive scent. Let's just say that I was in no way prepared for what I found. After every last item was removed from the washer, I peered into the tub..... only to find at the bottom.....a deflated, decomposing mouse. 

Needless to say, the washer has been bleached several times and I have attended numerous counseling sessions to deal with the trauma of this event. The smell has tatooed itself into my brain....probably forever. As far as the mouse, he did not receive a proper burial but I feel peace knowing that at least....as he went to his grave.....he was really, really clean!

Whew!

Hi Everyone! Okay....Other than the month leading up to Christmas, September has to be the busiest one around my house! I truly have not had even a moment of serenity since labor day and there is no sign of it letting up anytime soon!

I'm sure my readers, ( all 3 of you) have been wondering where I've been......

Well, along with the general craziness that goes along with the beginning of the school year, I got a job. A JOB! Can you beleive it? After almost 13 years of being home, I am now officially employed as a pediatric cancer nurse at a local hospital!!!! I applied, went to the interview, got hired, stressed out a little, bought some scrubs, crocs, and a pink stethescope and the rest is history! It has been an interesting journey so far. Scary and intimidating to say the least, but also really wonderful and rewarding. Tom has had to become "Mr. Mom"each morning and is doing a stellar job at it! (Thanks honey)! The boys have put together some interesting outfits under daddy's watch and had some really bad hair days... but so far, no permanent damage done! 

One of my favorite things so far (well, besides the sweet kids)  are the scrubs. I LOVE them. (Don't judge me). I wish I could wear them as my regular clothes. So much time would be saved on outfit planning! They are comfortable, don't wrinkle, don't really stain, don't require any special care or accessories, cheap...awesome! Dig around in the drawer, pull out a top, find the matching pants, DONE! Go buy yourself a set...wear them around town and pretend you're in healthcare or wear them as jammies....you won't be sorry! Just make sure to get the one's with the drawstring and not the elastic waist because...well, let's face it....elastic waist pants are lame.

Happy Tuesday!