STINKY JOHN JONES

A Surgery a Day Keeps the Doctor Away....right?

I don't think we discussed a certain incident here....I think because I was sworn to secrecy by a certain "someone" who shall remain nameless (although I will include a few pictures! ha!)

Well, the story goes something like this.   "Someone"  just HAD to have a dirt bike. 
"Oh, come on....I NEED IT!" or at least the conversation went something like that.

Anyway....on, I am fairly certain of this tiny detail, the first outing I get a call from said "someone".
"Don't be mad and I know you said not to call if this happened, but I think I hurt myself."

And those last words have been haunting me for months. 

There have been MRI's, therapy, countless doctor visits, and finally......the call.
 

Late last week, it seems as if the doctor decided that SURGERY would be in "someone's" best interest as the injury was not healing through therapy.  And SURGERY could consist of a 3-8 week recovery.....which means SURGERY could send us to the poor house.

But, remember this: "Oh, come on....I NEED IT!"
I can tell you a certain "someone" hasn't, as I have repeated it a thousand times and even took the liberty of recording it so "someone" can listen to it when I am not around to speak it.

So, the SURGERY was scheduled for mid-week.  He was to have a repair to the torn Meniscus in his knee.....which required a 2 hour SURGERY resulting in an 11 hour stay at the hospital.......yup, that's right.....11 freakin hours I spent in the hospital all because "someone" HAD TO HAVE IT.

Oh, and then "someone" moron thought he could sneak the chap-stick into the operating room......

So, were home....and he's cranky.....cause he looks like this.....I guess I would be too.....

J Boy's Day......literally......

Finally, it's Memorial Day.  Big Daddy and I have been hemming and hawing over what activity we should plan.  He wanted to go down the shore but we all know what traffic was going to be like heading home. So  after I screamed  gently reminded him of that, we decided that since most times we gear our activities towards J Girl, this time would be J Boy's turn. 
The boy talks incessantly about trains....choo-choo's......and what's better than taking a ride on a real life steam train, huh?  That was our my decision, and off we went. 

Keep in mind that the radio in the van big fat bitch is broken, and Lancaster is a good 1.5 hour drive for us....with two small children...who are used to watching movies on long trips....with sound.

We arrive, finally.   Everyone is in one piece.  With all extremities still attached.  And my head did not explode.  Yet.

Lancaster is very surreal. The Amish live a lifestyle that seems to calm the nerves.  Things slow down there.  No one is in a rush.  The farms stretch for miles. 

And the Strasburg Railroad is awesome.  The train is unbelievable.  At one point I thought J Boy's eyes were going to pop right out of his head.   His excitement was hard to contain.  We must have heard, "See train!  Choo-choo!" a hundred times. 

We made our way to the ticket counter and chose the Open Air car...which is just that....no windows.  And what's cool about this particular train car is that it has an observation deck on the back so you can enjoy your ride out in the open. 

The train goes out and returns on the same track....so heading out the engine was connected directly to our car.

This is what the kids (Big and little) looked like when the whistle blew or the engine let off steam......

On the return trip the engine was in the front so we had a great view off the observation deck.....

The train ride ended and we decided to make our way back into town for something to eat.....but poor J Boy just would not leave until the train was COMPLETELY out of sight.....

It's about now that the voodoo witch must have decided that I was having too good of a time and intervened.
"Hey guys...how about we head over to the campground that Daddy used to hang at as a child?" Big Daddy said.
"Okay, why not."  was my answer....and let me tell you....had I known....I would have probably turned around and ran away screaming.

This is where the cute pictures become scary....if you are squeamish, you may want to look away.

The campground was just a few miles down the road. And keep in mind...we are about 1.5 hours away from OUR home.
As we pulled into the campground, Big Daddy made his way to the office as we waited in the car.  He came out with a map and off we headed to the pond where the kids could feed the ducks and Big Daddy could get a little fishing in. 
Remember the fishing incident just a few weeks ago....well again.....I should have known.

J Girl had her bag of bread and Big Daddy his fishing pole.  For some reason, he headed on the other side of the pond as I stood with the kids feeding the ducks and these God awful geese that kept hissing at the kids.  At one point, the kids were tossing the bread far off in, what I guess, an attempt to keep the hissing creatures away.  It was about now that I turned my head to get a glimpse of J Boy heading towards the pond.  At first I thought he was just getting a good look at the water, but never did I think he would make his way down the embankment. 
I yelled for him to stop.  He didn't.
I yelled again.  He kept going. 
I screamed.  He turned.
I screamed again.  And that's when IT happened. 
He slid down the embankment.  I ran.  He was only a few feet away, but I had to get to him quickly...if he went under the water, I would never be able to see him as the water was covered in algae floating on top.
I dove down the embankment, sliding on my side.  I reached J Boy just as he was up to his chest.  I, from what I can gather from the pain in my arm, threw him over my shoulder and up on the grass just as I was sliding on the mud completely into the mucky water. 

I heard a laugh.  Big Daddy was standing over me.  I climbed out of the water.  J Boy was stunned.  We were both covered in mud.  And nasty botulism infested water.  I was angry.  I cried.  I screamed a profanity or two at Big Daddy.  And stomped to the car. 
It was about now that I realized the extent of my escapade.

Notice the mud....and blood....and it's only of my leg cause it was about now that my head exploded.
As I was standing here surveying the damage I noticed a bathroom off in the distance.  I scoured the van for some article of clothing as mine was, well, drenched in stench infested water and caked with mud. 
What did I find?  Big Daddy's baseball jersey.  So I grabbed that and my car towel and showered in the campground bathroom.  If you have ever been to a campground you will understand my frustration.  If not, here is a tip.  You must pull the string to get water.  Cold water.  And you must HOLD the string to keep the water coming.  Yup.  Fun.

How did I end up you might ask.  Well, I rode home.....in just a baseball jersey....and a bloody wound....for 1.5 hours......again.....in just a baseball jersey......the toll guys?.....well they got a good show I guess. 

A Day Off

For some unknown reason, the witch who continuously sticks pins in my voodoo doll, took a day off Sunday as it turned out to be a fairly decent day. 

It was another gorgeous day so we decided to open the pool.  This was the first year with the new winter safety cover so we were pretty anxious to see just how the water made out over the winter.  Especially so since we just dumped some chlorine and closed it last fall instead of doing that whole winterizing crap. 

Here is the pool closed.

Big Daddy taking the cover off.

Cover off....summer safety cover on....topping off the water.

Not winterizing seems to have come back to bite us in the ass a tad....that water is slightly nasty.

It seems that a very impatient little boy is not yielding to the screams of his Mother to get his grimy little hands out of the germ infested water!

But his day was not without some sort of ha ha I gotcha.....cause when we turned on the pump the pressure shot up and then came back down to never shoot up again......that is without a trip to the pool store and many hours of Big Daddy kicking, cursing and wrenching on it.  (I guess the voodoo witch has taken a liking to Big Daddy now!)

So........the pool is open and after 10 gallons of liquid chlorine, a day of repairs and three days of running the pump continuously,  I can see the bottom.

Hexes and Bad Luck

Does anyone know how to break the I dropped a mirror and now I have 7 years bad luck hex?
Voodoo?  A psychic?  Maybe an exorcism? 

Birthday Party Blues

I have no idea why, but the kid's Birthdays have become a three ring circus round here.  Typically, I begin planning close to 3 months before hand beginning with picking a theme, designing invitations, and finding a venue.  To tell you the truth, I think I have lost my mind when it comes to this.  There's that little voice in my head that says, "Just celebrate the important ones, like 1st, 5th, 10th, 13th, etc."  But then I hear that devil, perched there on my shoulder, whispering in my ear, "Go for it!  You know you wanna!"

So, in true devil style, for J Boy's 2nd Birthday, I planned the upcoming shindig....a pirate themed party complete with a treasure hunt through the woods at our nearby park.......at which I rented a pavillion on the lake.  It was to be grand....we had swords, eye-patches, earrings and little skull encrusted hats to complete the ensemble.  I even postponed the party till the end of the May, just to ensure good weather.

Wellllll....remember the invitations?   Yea, that's right.  I should have just given up and listened to the bad vibes coming my way....but nope, I pushed through.

The morning of the party I had everything planned down to the minute.  I had my in-laws watch the kids so we could head to the park and decorate and the van was packed and ready to go.  Yet, I still had the sinus headache of all sinus headaches that had lingered for days.  And after calling the doctor on Friday for an appointment....which they had none....but, Oh we can call something in for you....and still had not on Saturday......I had to stand in the shower for an hour or so....letting the stream do it's magic....and then after that didn't work.....I finally took 1000mg of Tylenol and hit the road.

 
We stopped on the way to pick up the food.  I jumped out of the van and told Big Daddy to just wait, that I would be right back.  For some reason he sensed that he would be sitting for a long while as he was right behind my as I made my way to the counter. 
"Oh, hey Val.  Your sandwiches are all ready.  Here you gooooo....oh nooooo!"
"Ewwww...." was all I could get out.    Yea....the sandwiches, although ready, were encrusted with flies buzzing around as their little disgusting heads kept hitting the plastic wrap as they buzzed around SHITTING ALL OVER MY PARTY FOOD!  AAAAHHHHHHH!
Lucky for me, unlucky for them, Big Daddy followed me in as he immediately stepped up and demanded they remake ALL the sandwiches...including the ones that did not have flies as we were a tad bit grossed out and refused to even think about the possibility that flies COULD HAVE BEEN SHITTING ON THEM!
So they did, and we waited, and waited and do you know just how long it takes a sandwich shop to make a tray of sandwiches?  A while.  Which totally blew my timing as we were about 30 minutes away from when the party was to begin. 

FINALLY, we were out of the sandwich shop and heading to the park.  The headache was still there and now I was cursing that damn doctor for not being there when I really needed him yet he rants and raves when I miss my well-visit.  What good are you when I'm well.....I need you when I'm SICK I say!  So I decided to call the pharmacy one more time before I call the doctor's emergency line and tear him away from his golf game cause damn it you will call in my prescription!  At you know what?  The damn doctor called it into the wrong freakin CVS.  That's right....APPARENTLY the girl I talked to the day before doesn't have an idiot button on her computer cause she couldn't tell me it was at the one RIGHT DOWN THE ROAD!  I hung up, slumped further in my seat and asked Big Daddy to please just hit the eject button on my seat so I could end my misery right now.  But he didn't, and it wouldn't, and we were about to find out this was just the beginning. 

As we turned onto the access road to our pavillion.....you know....the one I rented MONTHS IN ADVANCE.....I noticed a sort of party beginning, complete with a fire going.....at the PAVILLION I RENTED MONTHS IN ADVANCE!
Big Daddy pulled the van up, I jumped out, and decided since there were 3 large men, a woman and a small boy,  I would approach them with a sorta of "it's better to catch flies with honey" kinda attitude. 
"Excuse me?" I said as I made my way towards the larger of the three men, "But I reserved this pavillion for the day."
"Yea, we were here first!" the man yelled in a very thick Russian accent.
"Yes, I understand that, but I PAID for this pavillion and my contract states that I have use from 8am till 8pm....which means it's mine!" as I decided that nice was getting us nowhere... and since I was already pissed from the sandwich shop and my lost prescription that I could probably take him with my itty bitty pinky finger at this point.  Add in a tad bit of PMS and I could have squeezed his very large head off with my thighs.
The next thing I remember is Big Daddy standing next to me while asking the men to leave....and maybe gently reminding them that he could certainly tussle but they needed to know we had a fairly large party heading this way, with fairly large men, who were fairly accustomed to some sort of bar room brawls....even if it was fairly back in the day.  Right about then the smaller of the three spoke, in what I assume Russian, to the others and they started packing up to leave.......although I did hear the big one laugh....and the smaller one say, "These stinkin' Americans!" as they walked off.

At this point my blood is boiling....I have a party to get ready for that starts, oh, about NOW and we just arrived.  So I started tossing picnic tables, which I knew right away was a mistake, as one happened to land on my flip flop covered foot, which happened to take just about the first layer of skin off.  After a few expletives....hey, we're in the woods.....if a bear shits in the woods and no one is there to see it....did it really shit in the woods?....o.k., getting way off track here. 

So the party begins...everyone arrives....the treasure hunt was a success....kids running around aimlessly wearing eye patches and carrying swords....you know....just your everyday, run of the mill, time in the woods.  I would have to say, that overall, the best part....just like a good Oreo....was the middle. 
Cause it started out bad and ended with a spark...or there lack of....read on....

After the party died down to just a few of us, Big Daddy pulled the van down to load up...you know...since we had help still there.  So we loaded up, and after the last guest pulled out we decided to head out behind them. 
And just to top off the best every loving day one can imagine in the history of days, the van decided it would like to play a little prank on us and NOT START.  Yup....we were stranded.  Big Daddy called the last person to leave, and thank God he was not far and had a pair of jumper cables in his car.  So he turned around, jumped the van and AGAIN WE HEADED OUT.  After a mile or so we noticed the little imp of a van, who I now refer to as the BIG FAT BITCH, seemed to have lost power in the a/c and stereo department.  Yup, it was ALL DEAD.  NOTHING. 
I'm telling you, it was at that moment....and thank God the kids left with my in-laws, that I let it all out.  I probably said things forbidden in most foreign countries.  I screamed, I cried, I jumped up and down like the two year olds in the cars ahead of us. 

The icing on the cake....so to speak....since this is about a party.....was that Big Daddy got the a/c working.....but after taking the van BIG FAT BITCH to the dealer.....I learned that the radio is, yes indeedy, FRIED....and at the tune of $400.00....they can fix it. 
Oh wait, let me write you a check, I say.....NOT!

And by the way....I purposely did not include any pictures.  I didn't need any photographical evidence that this day existed.  It did.....I lived it....and it was hell.....so thank you very much.....I would like to forget it.....at least most of it.....cause it was my little boy's party.....which he enjoyed.....and he would....he's two......he did not have to deal with all the bullshit.....Mommy did.....and it sucked.

Still no time..........

Sorry folks....still have not been able to catch up here....but let's just take a little peek at what's to come:

1) A Birthday party from hell...although some parts were good....but still from hell....

2) A trip that ended in disaster.....mostly involving having to save a CERTAIN LITTLE BOY from drowning.

3) I only heart my minivan when it works!

4) And finally, just a little surgery to brighten things around here.

.......so heres hoping that this will sustain you till later.  Now I gotta go, some big baby is screaming for me....and it's not one from MY birth canal, thank you very much....and that, in itself, should put me in the running for saint-hood.

Issues

So much has happened over the last few days that updating is taking a awhile!

Stay tuned....

Oh the joys of snot....

It's that time of year where we all enjoy having a cold.  I think there is more snot in our house then Romper Room.  (Hey, remember Romper Room?)
Anyway, it seemed as if earlier in the week, my cold was actually on it's way out.  Since it blessed me on Mother's day, I was thanking the good Lord that it didn't stick around much longer.
But, once again, I was fooled. 

Tuesday, I had a headache.  At first I thought, "Oh, maybe it's allergies." and took a Tylenol and went to bed.  At some point in the middle of the night I woke up.  My head was pounding, I couldn't breath and my left arm was numb!  I screamed and grabbed Big Daddy's chest hair. 
"I'm having a heart attack!  WAKE UP!"
"What?" he mumbled as he told me to just turn over and go back to sleep. 
I was just about to call 911 (as I am sure you are well aware of by now.  If not, read this) when I realized that I had just been sleeping on my arm, causing the numbness and that thing about not being able to breath was just snot....but the headache....THAT was still there.  But, certainly not a reason to go bothering those sweet paramedics for just yet.
So I went back to sleep. 

I woke up Wednesday, and you know what....the headache was still there.  So, again, I popped a Tylenol and went to work.  And then it came back, and again, and again, and again. 

By Thursday, my headache was full blown temple pounding which has taken over my eyes and cheeks.
Damn you Sinus Infection I thought.

So I did what any other person would do....I called the doctor today and BEGGED for a prescription.

Take that immune system....I am sending in the ass kickers in the way of a pill.  Down the hatch!

Boba Fett makes a comeback.....

The other day, we decided to make a pit stop at Rita's to get some water-ice while running errands. 
J Boy was asleep in his car seat, so we pulled up in front and Big Daddy got out to get our treats.

At about the same time the delivery driver for Domino's Pizza, which is attached to Rita's,  pulled his car next to ours.  I happened to notice that he was having a good amount of difficulty getting himself from behind the steering wheel.  At first, he put his leg outside of the car.  Then he used his left arm to hold the door as he scooted his rather large belly across the seat.  Once the belly was released from the wheel he put his other leg out of the car and hoisted his body to an erect position. 
It was at about this time that I realized I was not the only person watching attentively, because J Girl quickly piped up from the backseat, "Mommy?"
"Yes?"
"That man is FAT like Daddy." she blurts out.
I stifled my laugh.  I have been telling Big Daddy that his beer gut is getting a little large. 
"J Girl, remember?  It's not nice to call another person fat.  It hurts their feelings when you say things like that." I scolded her.

For the next minute or so the car was silent, as we were both more interested in watching how this man was going to get through the door of the restaurant. 

"Mommy?"
"Yes?" I answer dreading what's to come.
"It's not nice to say fat, right?"
"Thats right, honey."  Wow she got it.

Another silent minute......and then......
"Mommy?"
"Yeeaaaaa?" What now!
"Can I say Boba Fett?" she questioned.
"Yes, Boba Fett is fine.  He is from Star Wars, remember?"
"Okay." she said, and then quickly added, "Well den, DAT man is BOBA FETT like Daddy!"

I couldn't hold it in any longer....I had to release the laughter.  It was at about this moment when Big Daddy returned to the car.  As he readied everyone's treat, I explained to him what had just taken place.
He wasn't amused. 
He then explained to J Girl that even though we are allowed to say "Boba Fett" we should never use the word to hurt others.  She nodded, and then......sold me out...........
"Well, MOMMY laughed."

Great!  Now I have to fight off those dagger stares all the way to Wal-Mart hell.

Now this last part freaked me out........I was looking for a picture of "Boba Fett" when Google brought me this.......the word "Fett" in German (which is Big Daddy's lineage, and also the kids obviously...well at least one of them.....no really, both...I'm kidding....geesh)   means FAT!
Can you believe it....I am floored.  The kid isn't even four yet and she speaks German....although only in derogatory ways, but still, I couldn't be prouder!

 

Should I Invest in Straight Jackets?

Over the last few days the mess created by the children of the house has gotten out of control.  They seem to have zero respect for property. 
And lately, I am afraid to even look at the posters hanging at the local post office for fear their mugs will be looking back under the heading, Most Wanted.

Let me give you just a glimpse of the things I have had to endure......

1)  An entire bottle of peroxide dumped on the bathroom floor by little miss thang.  And to top it off, the boy was holding the bottle when I got in there which meant I had to smell his breath to insure ingestion did not occur.  What's worse?   It was before the teeth brushing. yuk.

2)  Do you know what happens to bananas went left, lets say, under the couch for a while?  Well I do, and it's not pretty.

3)  The pendulum from the Grandfather clock now has many more uses.  One being as a great big spoon for cereal.  You ain't seen nothin' until you've seen this. (And I would have photographed it had I not been so appalled...also I couldn't stop screaming long enough)

4) Have you ever had a hair try to floss your teeth while brushing?  You know, a piece inadvertently gets stuck on the brush and ends up between your incisors?   This happened to me the other day, and when I pulled it out it was small and white.  At the time, I thought it was mine, since little white hairs keep popping up on my head from, oh I don't know, the kids killing me slowly.  But, I was quickly snapped back to reality when I saw the true culprit of the "little white hair" when I happened to enter the dining room to find, again, little miss thang brushing the DOG with my toothbrush.  That's right...the big, fat, snoring louder than any human I know DOG!
Needless to say, ALL the toothbrushes have since been thrown away and replaced...oh, and locked up in a VERY high cabinet.

5) The boy seems to think my pants, shirt and any other article of clothing either on my body on within reach is sufficient enough to use as a tissue.  He will even blow if you know what I mean.  Have you ever arrived at work, only to look down and notice dried boogies crusted all over your pants?

6)  And finally, since I saved the best for last, is dinner time.  You see, dinner time we like to sit down as a family to, you know, conversate.  I have no idea why since the only conversating I'm getting is either a "huh", "ugh", "what?", "uh-huh", and maybe a "idunno".  And all that is from the husband.
Moving on, over the last few days the kids have been slightly under the weather with colds, hence the snotty nose aforementioned.  And since the snot seems to be filling them up, they aren't so hungry these days.  Well, I made the fatal mistake of trying to force the boy to eat dinner. 
As I was talking with the husband myself, I guess I wasn't paying too much attention, since suddenly I felt this SPLAT on my arm with tiny sprinkles beaming across my cheek.  It seems as if the spaghetti smeared all over the table wasn't portraying the statement little boy wanted to get across to me, so he felt it necessary to take it one step further. 
If you don't see pictures of him for a little while that is because his bedroom, where he now resides 24/7, has poor lighting.

Now, I hope, you understand when I don't post for a day or so.  I am cleaning.  And possibly harboring criminals.