STINKY JOHN JONES

The Ghost from Christmas Past

If you need to know just one thing about my family, it's that we do everything ass-backwards.  You see, most people ( and I say "most" loosely) entertain a courtship, get married, buy a house and then have kids. 
But not us. We dated for two weeks, moved in together, lived with one another for the next 6 years, got engaged, got pregnant, had a shotgun wedding, baby came, then another....and then, finally, bought our first home. 
We were ecstatic to say the least.  Finally, we accomplished what we had been working towards...and although the journey was anything but extraordinary, we just wanted an ordinary life.

Since life was finally like the Walton's, we decided to host the Christmas holiday here.  We had a beautiful little girl who finally understood just how magical the holiday was and our infant son was beginning to come into himself as a 6 month old little man.  We invited my parents and my sister's family for Christmas Eve....I was to cook a fantastic dinner, Big Daddy would have a rip roaring fire going thus creating the perfect spot to roast chestnuts (or in our case, smores), and our house was decorated with tons of twinkling lights to set off the holiday cheer. 

The night before as I began to prepare for the next day's meal, Big Daddy suddenly informed me that he didn't "feel well".  He was going to bed early to try to "shake" this thing that was coming on.
"Sounds good!" as I shrugged it off with the thought that he was trying to get out of helping.  At this point, nothing was going to get me down, not even a little sniffle....which in my opinion was about all I was expecting. 

Expectations can cause a big letdown, as I was  to find out the hard way when Big Daddy woke with what I could only guess was a virus.  Lets just say that what I heard coming from the bathroom that morning will stick with me for life.  It is like watching a horrific accident....you don't want to remember, but sometimes something will trigger that memory and it all comes flooding back...it's not pretty.

But, like I said....a little sniffle virus was not going to get in my way of having the PERFECT family holiday.  I got up early, put the ham in the oven, had the potatoes peeled and on the stove and the kids were dressed in their adorable holiday outfits, complete with hair spit combed and shoes shined.  J Girl in her green party dress and my little boy in his suit, finished off with the cutest little bow tie I have ever seen, completed the scene....except for that pesky noise coming from the bathroom....but for some reason, I chose to ignore that. 

Everyone arrived towing presents and good cheer.  The kids were happily playing while I finished dinner and no one seemed to mind the sickness lingering in the air....not even me, which should have set off alarms in my head, but again, I was on cloud nine and nothing was getting me down.  Every once in a while, Big Daddy would appear, wrapped in a blanket, sweating profusely, moaning that he needed a drink or a gun to shoot himself with.  But again, if you haven't already been painted the picture....shots could have rang out and I would still be basting my ham so it didn't dry out.

With the kids in their highchairs, and the family seated at the table, we began to pass around the dishes as everyone readied their plates.  At one point I couldn't believe that I pulled this off.  An infant, toddler and a sick husband hadn't hindered me in any way.  I was beginning to feel like supermom.  I must have been riding that high when J Girl asked to sit with my Mom during dinner.
"No, no....sit in your own seat.  Go ahead, eat up...you want dessert, right?" I sternly questioned her.
She quickly shimmied down off her chair and plopped herself in Gigi's lap. 
"She feels a little warm....." as my Mom felt her forehead.  She never had a chance to finish her sentence when IT happened. 
"Oh my God!" I heard someone scream.  Chairs were being knocked over, bodies were passing by me in a frenzied state.  At one point, I heard a plate hit the floor as the person to my right was diving to the floor.
"Get that kid into the bathroom!" I heard my Dad yell.  Instinct must have set in as I grabbed my child and ran to the bathroom. 
"I feel sick, Mommy." she cried as I held her hair over the toilet. 
My Mom appeared at the bathroom door.  She herself needed help.  Her shirt, pants, and even shoes were covered.  I left them to tend to each other as I went to retrieve fresh clothes for both.  I handed my Mom her's as I knelt down to change my little girl.  After both were freshened up I headed back into the dining room to survey the damages. 
My Dad was the only one left at the table.  When questioned as to why, he answered "I'm not about to let good ham go to waste..." he informed me as he continued to eat.

Heading back down the hall I heard what no Mother wants to hear on the first Christmas Eve hosted at her new house.........."Mommy?  I puked on Gigi!"

"I know honey, I know......"

911, What's Your Emergency?

If you read Who are You?, then you surely have been sittin' on pins and needles waiting for this story to arrive!  If not...then GET OFF MY LAWN!

So here it is, in all it's glory.........................

My kids love to wake at the crack of dawn.  I know it wasn't always like this, but I can't remember when it wasn't, so in my mind...they have always been a pain in the rear end when it comes to sleep.

On this most wondrous day J Girl decided to sleep in.  I know what your thinking, and no, I did not pump her up full of benadryl to get a better nights sleep.....she just decided to on her own, okay.
But, as usual...the one I didn't drug count on was the boy.  On this day, which was typical for him, he got up quite early.  The unusual part...he wanted out.  You see, this boy would wake up and then lay in his crib for at least an hour or so just talking and playing.  He was always easy going, really only crying if he was hungry or hurt.  At a year old, he was probably the most even tempered child I had ever met.  Which is why what you are about to read came as such a shock to me.

His low cries quickly turned to screams so I ran on in as to not wake up princess.   Since it was rather early, I carried him into the living room, sat down on the couch and sat him on my lap.  I thought I better feel his forehead to check for fever since my gut told me he didn't feel well.  Nope, cool as a cucumber. As I lifted my hand his screams became hysterics.  He stiffened up and flopped himself on the living room floor kicking and flailing. I tried to scoop him up off the floor but he wasn't budging.  The thrashing got to the point that I could barely get near him.  His eyes seemed glazed over and he was seething with his teeth clenched.  Now I am in overdrive.  I am half out of it as I just got out of bed, and at least an hour earlier then usual.  I grabbed the phone and dialed for help. 
"911, What's your emergency?"
"My son!" I screamed, because by now I have just about lost all control.  I don't know what is wrong with my son who is still screaming and rolling from the living room to the kitchen.
"He is only 13 months.  Please, I don't know what is wrong with him.  Oh my god, he is grabbing the kitchen chairs and pulling them over. What do I do, please send someone to help me!"
"Ma'am, please calm down.  Now what I want you to do is move anything that is around him that can cause him harm.  Just try to protect him from bumping into anything.  While I get the ambulance on the line, I want you to take all of his clothes off.  Can you reach into his mouth?  Are his teeth clenched?"
"Yes, yes.  He has them clamped shut.  I can't get my fingers in there.  Oh my god, please, I don't know what to do!" I yelled into the receiver, as I threw the phone down on the floor and tried to hold my son down.
"Okay. Now I want you to get a cool washcloth and try to rub him down. It will be all right.  Stay calm and the ambulance is on it's way." 
"Okay, okay." as I hit the end button on the phone. 
At this point, my son is still crying, but without any tears. I am rubbing his now naked little body with a cool washcloth when I suddenly thought, oh my god.  What am I going to do with J Girl? 
I grabbed the phone again.  Please, please think.  You need to call someone to help.  My fingers immediately dialed my husbands cell.  Answer, answer! 
"Oh god.  The baby!" I screamed as he said hello.  "Something is wrong with the baby.  I called 911, the ambulance is coming!"
I can't remember if he said anything or not because I hung up and dialed again.
"Can you come over?  I have to take the baby to the hospital!  The ambulance is coming!" I once again screamed into the phone at my sister. 
The next thing I remember is the paramedics knocking on the door.  They started asking me questions that I couldn't answer at the time because at this point I am beyond hysterical.  I can't talk, I am lucky I can breathe and I am cradling my infant son with such strength that the paramedic needed to pry him from my arms. 
I look out the corner of my eye to see J Girl wander down the hall sleepily and walk to the window.
"Oh, Auntie is here!" she excitedly tells me as if everything else around her is completely normal.  My sister runs into the house dragging behind her my 1 year old niece.  She asks me some questions, but I couldn't get anything out.  I went to throw some clothes on and I tossed my sister the keys to my house as I ran out the door and into the ambulance. 
The paramedic stopped me before I got in to ask what hospital I wanted him to be taken to.  At first I couldn't remember the name of the hospital, when my sister said, "St. Mary's right?"
"Yes, that's fine."  Oh thank God someone answered.
As I am helped into the back of the ambulance I see my son beaming from ear to ear as he plays peek a boo with the attending paramedic.  They strap me to the stretcher and hand me the baby.  During the ride to the hospital, I am asked question after question about medical history and events of the morning.  I know I answer because they stopped asking.  I was just staring at my son.  I looked into his eyes that held nothing of the previous minutes.  He was alert, happy and babbling about the "big truck". 
When we arrived at the ER the ambulance doors opened and my husband was standing there with red rimmed eyes.  That was enough to send me back into hysterics as they unloaded and quickly brought us through triage.  A medical team was waiting as we entered rattling off the same questions, as one nurse took my son from my arms and laid him on the bed.  She was taking his vitals while calling for someone else to start an IV.  Another nurse brought a warm blanket.  My son was only wearing a diaper, so we wrapped him up to keep him warm in that sterile room. 

I just remember waiting.  We waited for answers.  Answers that we were both hoping we would be  prepared for.  J Boy was giggling and happy, and if I didn't witness it I would have been sure that it never happened. 

"His blood work is all normal.  Nothing is elevated.  We are just waiting on the CT and urinalysis." the ER doctor told us as he came and went.  A nurse offered us a drink as she handed my son a sippy cup of apple juice. 
"The doctor will be right in, he is just finishing up the paperwork." she said.

I remember sitting on the gurney type bed trying to occupy my son from pulling at the IV.  They had his arm wrapped up but he was quickly unraveling the tape.  I was tracing my fingers over the blood stains on the blanket.  I was glancing at the clock thinking that just a few hours ago we were safe at home with two healthy children.  Now we are in limbo awaiting test results that could drop the bottom out. 

"Mr and Mrs. Big Daddy?  We have all the test results and after careful review they all appear normal."

Oh thank God as I sink into my husband and pull my son into my arms.  I gently kissed his head at that moment as I looked into the doctor's eyes to silently thank him for keeping our family's health intact.

"So what caused this to happen?  Will it happen again?" I questioned because at this point I am not sure I can just dismiss this.

"Well Mrs. Big Daddy....." he started, and at this moment I could tell that he was having a bit of a hard time getting out what he wanted to say.
"In my opinion, I think what this little guy here was having...", as he ruffled my son's hair, ".... what we medical professionals like to call...." as he ruffled again,  "......a tantrum.  It is definitely safe to assume that it will happen again."

Driver's Ed Part Deuce

If you haven't read this post yet, then just take a minute and have a little looksy.

Part Deuce is just a little something I forgot to add......maybe because it will cause a certain someone to eat her words.....but as you know, I am here for your amusement....so here goes........

• If your toddler in the back seat continually screams "weeeeeeeeee" when your driving....you might wanna slow it down and leave the drag racing to Mario Andretti.

• If you get to the sitters only to find that your child was never buckled into the car seat, you might wanna leave a little extra time in the morning to get to where you gotta go.

• If you have to ask your three year old if your one year old is in the car, you might just wanna stay home.

Failed

At 2 am I woke to screaming....it sounded like "Ma Bink, Ma Bink!" over and over again. 
I endured for the good of my child...knowing that this was what was best for him.

Big Daddy.....did not.

Mixed Feelings

Right now my baby is sleeping......without a binky......no fussing, no crying.......so why am I?
Don't get me wrong, I am overjoyed.....but I miss that sound of him suckling the bink as he slept in my arms.  My baby is growing up, he is no longer a baby, but my little boy.

So how about one last one for the road..............................

Love goes beyond generation gaps.  This picture shows "growing up" at it's finest.

What's in a Name?

When did they change Secretary's Day to Administrative Professional's Day?  I totally missed that.

Anyway, since supposedly we can just change holiday names whenever the mood suits us, I am lobbying for a few changes myself......

Mother's Day:  This is the all important day because without us there would be no life, so I am changing this to "Domestic Goddess who does everything around here day".

Father's Day:  Since there's not much left to honor after the above, I am changing this to "Sperm Donor who mows the grass day" "The guy who mows the grass (or hires the gardener) and the kids call asshole Daddy day". (sorry if your a guy and this offends you...your house may run differently you just may be the greatest father to roam the Earth...so go ahead and go back to calling it Father's Day...but you must send your request in writing 60 days before actual holiday for approval.  Decision is subject to change upon complaint from any woman)

Christmas Day:  I just may be struck with lightning for this one, so if I don't post for a while you will know where I am.  But, I want to change this to "When the kids get a lot of plastic crap under a plastic tree while parents go crazy trying to figure out a way to pay the plastic off day, which also happens to be Jesus's birthday when there wasn't plastic."

New Years Day:  Not much to tell, but just for shits and giggles, let's call this "The Earth made it to another year and hasn't imploded from our toxicities day". This day can also be combined with Earth day to save us all a bunch of time with celebrations.

Valentine's Day:  "The Poor Sap who can't get a girl is made to feel like crap and watch all the other couples get all googly-eyed while he eats alone day".  Because, come one, what is this holiday for anyway?

And finally, the one that really counts..........

Birthdays:  Ritually speaking, this day is to celebrate the birth of each and every one of us.  We throw a big party in which we shower the birthday boy or girl with gifts.  But, as you know, things change, times change, people change, and I am changing this day to honor the only one that matters.  So it will be changes to "The woman who had to lug you around for nine whole months enduring hemmaroids, constipation, gas, heartburn and tendonitis only to have to push your big ol' head out that tiny little hole with little or no pain medicine only to get no recognition at the end because you all tend to forget just who did all the work here day". Forget the birthday kid, us Mother's should be getting the presents...if for the only reason that your still alive at the end of a year!

The End!
Now git.......I need to go find a calender big enough to fit my changes on.

Make Me Laugh Monday

Not too long ago we took a trip to Disney.  We decided to try and stay outside the park to keep the cost somewhat low.....and we thought, why not...you only sleep at the hotel anyway. 
That experience was one we will never forget....and will never do again.  If you are thinking about vacationing at Disney, do yourself a favor....stay inside the park....the extra money is well worth it. 

Anyway, our hotel provided a shuttle service to and from the parks.  The shuttle was really a luxury type bus with televisions playing, of course, Disney movies.....but really.....the luxury stopped there.  We were the first stop, and we had like six more before the park. Each stop picked up more and more people.  As people entered the bus, the driver would walk up and down the aisles checking seating arrangements.  "Three to a seat!" she would yell.  "Children on your laps!"  By the last stop, there were three to a seat and an aisle full of people, but more were getting on the bus.  "Move back!" she would scream.  We would ride the last 5 minutes or so like sardines.  It was absolutely crazy....and I thought it was about as bad as it could get.......until I saw this......it could have definitely been worse.......

 

Lions and Tiger and Bears, Oh My!

Yesterday was another beautiful day in our neck of the woods.  It seems that the weather is finally inviting us to spend more time outside.  And although our house was falling down around us dirty, we decided to deal with it later and go to the zoo!

This was in the petting zoo area.....the boy HAD to check what was under every animal. 

I do love those tortoise's.

 

You wouldn't believe how many people stopped us to ask where we purchased the harness for the boy.

By the way, it works like a charm. 
Some may say "Priceless"! 
(Like me)

Neuroticism and Me

Neuroticism is a fundamental personality trait in the study of psychology . It can be defined as an enduring tendency to experience negative emotional states.

You see, I have a few certain "quirks" that seem to drive others crazy.  I tend not to notice these little things, but at times someone likes to point them out.  Let's have a look at just one of these tendencies, as to keep at least some of my dignity intact.........

Before bed, I head to the kitchen to get a drink and "ready" my medication.  I know what you are thinking, wow...she must take some crazy meds considering the post title.  But no, it's just a beta blocker for palpitations of the heart...which, by the way, I could probably do away with it everyone else could just possibly act normal and leave my blood pressure alone. 
Anyway, I take this every other night.  It starts by me getting my drink and retrieving my pill case from the cabinet.  I tend to forget when and if I took my pill so I have instilled a system to alleviate this.  The pill case has all 7 days of the week....and any normal person would just put their medication in each day and be done.  But not me.  Each compartment contains my medication and a vitamin.  I purposely leave one compartment empty as to not screw up the rotation.  I open todays compartment, and the day before's.  I take the vitamin and move it to the day before's and then I take the medication out and place it on the counter.  At this point I am finished with the container and it goes back into the cabinet.  Now, comes the real work.  I have been taking this medication for years so I know it inside and out, backwards and forwards, up and down.  So I pick up the pill and the first thing is to make sure there is an M on one side.  This M is very important.  It tells me that the pill I am about to ingest is 50 mg.  Okay, check.  Next I turn it over and make sure it has a 231 on the other side.  This tells me the pill type.  Okay, check.  But now I am not sure it REALLY said M, so I flip it over and test again.  Okay, check.  But did it say 231?  Flip again, check.  M?  Flip again, check.  231?  Flip again, check.  At this point I finally put it in my mouth and begin to sip my drink.  BUT, did it REALLY have an M and 231?  I take it back out of my mouth and inspect again.  Check. I swallow the pill.  Oh God, did I really give it a  good look?  Calm down, calm down.  What is the probability that the pharmacist made a mistake?  Oh no, they could have and I just took a pill for schizophrenia.  Well, that may not be too bad, hopefully it stops these voices.  Uh-oh, I think I feel a little faint.  I better get the bottle and look at the rest of the pills.  Yea, good idea.  If the rest are correct then the one I swallowed is probably okay. 

It's usually at this time that I often hear "someone" yell from the other room, "Would you just take your freakin' medicine and shut up about it already."

Now, that's amore. 

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

On any given day, I read a good amount of blogs. It's easy to see 1000+ looming overhead in my Google Reader. 
One of those said blogs is Alice's Finslippy. She has a great way with words and always has a cute story about her little Henry.  If you still live under the proverbial blog log then you may not know this, but she also writes a column called Wonderland here.  So this afternoon, I read her blog and then headed over to read her new column.  Today's piece was about lying to our children.   At first I thought, me?  I never lie to MY kids.  And then the hamster must have jumped back on the wheel because memories started flying about lies I MAY have said....well maybe little untruths. 
So you be the judge...is it a lie or just a teeny tiny itty bitty fib?

If you don't already know, I have a love obsession with the phone. I talk on it often, and to whoever will listen...and not hang up.  Well, I may have passed this on to my unsuspecting children, because now the phone has become not just a conversational tool but a sorta family feud.  See, we tend to argue about WHO is going to talk on it.  Since I'm the Mommy, and it's mine, I feel that they should leave their grimy little hands off.  But, they feel as if everything around is theirs and that includes the phone and th person who is on the other end of it.  Just the other day, I was talking to my Mom.  We were having one of our "marathons", as my Dad calls it, and the kids were jumping up and down screaming "I wanna talk, I wanna talk".  Usually this is cured by shoving snacks in their mouths tending to their needs so I can get some peace and quite, but not today.  They went on and on...."who are you talking to, I wanna talk, it's my turn to use the phone, give it to me, PLEASE!"  Finally I had had enough.  So the next time they asked I told them it was the Boogyman.  I thought, aha...I gotcha now...go ahead, talk to him....he is sooooo nice to little kids.  ahahahahahaha in my best scary witch laugh.
Yup, you guessed it, it came back to bite me in the ass....."Let ME talk to the boogyman" J Girl said as J Boy toddled up saying "me too, me too".
Well, if your any good, you always have a plan b...just for these situations.  So I told my Mom on the other end,  in a language only she and I understand,  to pretend she was the boogyman and I handed the kids the phone.
"Go ahead," I said, "Talk to the boogyman." 
"Hi boogyman!"   I can hear my Mom on the other end trying her little grandma heart out to fool them.  Her voice was deep and as she talked she inserted little boogyman laughs.  At first, the looks on the kids faces proved my plan was working......and then....it happened......I knew I should have stopped teaching the big one.....she is getting way too smart.....and I won't admit she can outsmart me yet.......but she can......and does.......and did........
"Gigi?  Is that you?"
"Me talk Gigi!" goes the little one. 
Damn......and what's worse?  They want to call the boogyman everyday now.

Lie?  Fib?  Stretching the truth?  That one is up in the air for me....but this one (don't worry, it's much shorter) is a definite lie in my book.....but for the better of man kind, or just my kind...whatever.

Everyday when I pick the kids up from daycare I asked them how their day was.  You know, the usual questions.....how was your day?  what did you do?  did you take a nap?  eat all your lunch?  have fun? and finally the biggy....were you good?  This last question is an important one for J Girl since she has been having a bit of a feud with another little girl.  We have talked about this extensively and she is of the understanding the she is to make an effort to be nice each and everyday.  We will not tolerate arguing and fighting and if need be, she has to just walk away and find something or someone else to play with. 
On this day I went through the routine and after asking the almighty question she said yes, she was good.  It wasn't so much her answer as it was her tone.  I thought I better delve more into this and get straight to the bottom of things. 
"J Girl? (in my most Mom is the authority figure here tone) Were you fighting with "little girl" today?"
"Why?  Could you hear me from work?"
What?!?  Now this is good.  I definitely can't let this one go.  So I did what any other loving Mother would do......I lied."
"Yes, J Girl. I can hear you, even when I am at work.  I have Mommy ears that can hear her children from far away places."
"Oh." she said. "Then, yes I was fighting with "little girl" today."