those crazy americans

I have a well-traveled friend ("Mrs. C"). She's always going on one vacation or another. I, on the other hand, have never travelled to exotic locales and am always interested in hearing more about one place or another. Mrs. C apparently has specific packing requirements for each of her trips, which she passes along to all who accompany her. It was with much laughter that Mrs. C and a fellow traveller relayed this story.

Mrs. C enjoys bringing many souvenirs back from her travels, and is thus, always looking for more room in her suitcase. Therefore, she throws her dirty underwear away. (Her rationale? "Who wants to carry dirty underwear around for a couple of weeks?") This has proved quite useful on several trips. However, on her first trip to Paris, Mrs. C must have royally confused the housekeeper. The poor housekeeper found dirty underwear in the trashcan EVERY DAY, but she dutifully folded it up and placed it near Mrs. C's bags. Can't you hear her muttering now? "Crazy Americans--this is no laundry service!"

creepy crawly went too far

There are very distinct divisions of labor in my household--despite the fact that my husband is away from home frequently. These divisions are especially apparent when it comes to rodent and pest removal. Kev is responsible for the absolute destruction of all snakes and mice--especially the mice. I hate those blasted things. I, on the other hand, am responsible for the removal of all creepy crawly spiders.

These divisions became rock solid a few years ago. Kev, who had never been a friend of spiders, was bitten a few years ago by a brown recluse. He sought quick medical attention due to the fact that one of his coworkers was, at that time, recovering with a wound vac on his back side to heal his spider bite. (That can leave a big impression on even a macho man. . .) Kev recovered fairly quickly, but he still has a round scar on his leg. I, on the other hand, do not mind the eight-legged creatures. Sure, I would prefer the poisonous ones stay out of my house, but most of the time, I catch and release the little buggers.

This weekend, we made a quick trip to Branson. Arriving at our destination, I looked up and noticed a "dead" spider near my window. I attempted to brush the poor little guy out, when he decided to wake up. And JUMP. The nasty little creepy crawler jumped on my leg and started crawling up my pants, while I was shooing him frantically off my leg. He kept going, and I started to panic. . .you know, not wanting to have a wound vac attached to my crotch and all. . .Finally, I unbuckled my seat belt and jumped out of the car like the Boogie Man himself was about to get me. . .to find several vacationers watching the speedy exit of one pleasantly plump blond from a dirty SUV.

I'm turning over a new leaf. My new motto? A dead spider is a good spider. Dang Charlotte's Web. . .

because I thought it was funny. . .

My mom just sent me this email that I hadn't read before (which is amazing in and of itself because I've now received every other possible forward at least 9 times. How many times can I possibly die from not sending a forward on in 9 minutes?). I thought it was funny, so you better too. : ) (Sorry if you have read it.)


Random Thoughts of the Day:

1) Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

2) I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.

3) There is a great need for sarcasm font.

4) How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

5) I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.

6) MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.

7) Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.

8) I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.

9) Bad decisions make good stories

10) You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you just aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.

11) I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.

12) I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Damnit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?

13) I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.

14) As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists.

15) I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

16) I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay.

Bonus Funnies:
I was so depressed last night thinking about the economy, government, health care, real estate prices, the stock market, the federal deficit, Iraq, Afghanistan, global warming, my savings, Social Security, credit card debt........I called the Suicide Hot line. ... I got a call center in Pakistan .....told them I was suicidal.. They got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck.

what I didn't know

In case you've been keeping up with my captivating tweets regarding my illness, I'm still sick. I can't seem to shake this horrible, awful respiratory thing I've got going on. The doctor's take is it's a "virus thing" and I'm just going to have to get over it. . .Anyway, I have managed to squander most of my paid time off this week by staying home and watching crappy tv instead of going on a long-awaited cruise. . .not that I'm bitter or anything. Just to show how much I've been missing out by going to work each and every day and not staying home glued to my tv, I wanted to let you in on an upcoming show Tyra's doing. Seriously.

If you or someone you know attempted YOUR own plastic surgery but botched it, PLEASE call the Tyra show.

I spent the first delusional day of my illness convinced I had missed something, but it came on again the next day. They are seriously looking for people who tried to perform plastic surgery on themselves. Obviously, I've been living under a rock, because I had no idea this was a serious problem. Ssssoooo, share. What types of surgery are you considering attempting?

You've got WHAT on your hands?

This post was originally published on Wednesday, November 12, 2008. This post has gotten more comments than any other I've ever written. I guess doe pee resonates--who knew?!

Forgive me in advance for any false information I share. I am not a deer hunter. I grew up around them. I might have even attempted the hunting thing a time or two. However, the only deer I've ever killed was trying to outrun my car. . .Another story for another day. . .

Kev and Kyler went hunting close to our house this weekend. In fact, they just walked out in "our" woods to their tree stand to hunt. Can we just take a moment for me to realize how blessed I am?

Ok, I'm back. Kyler is really beginning to enjoy this hunting thing, so Kev is letting him do more and more. This time he let Kyler drag the "scent." This involves putting doe pee on a cotton ball and pulling it with a string to lure the buck in. (The buck smells a doe and comes around to find the amazingly, seductive-smelling doe.) Now, most of you are thinking doe pee is not high on the list of things you want to smell in your life. I can now assure you that you are right.

Apparently, somewhere on the way to the tree stand, Kyler dropped the string upon which the cotton ball was attached. Kevin realized this when he turned around and saw Kyler HOLDING the cotton ball. He asked Kyler why he was holding the cotton ball, and Kyler said he had dropped the string. At which time, he apparently thought it would be easier to just hold the cotton ball containing doe urine. . .Really, Kev, it's not like you explained the process to your son. . .(Can you picture Kyler's mind working to try and figure out exactly why pulling a cotton ball on a string was going to make them better deer hunters? I can.)

Kyler then spent the next hour or so sitting in a tree, smelling like a deer whizzed on him, and (bless his heart) holding his hand up for the wind to blow the smell off him. Ah, good times. When they came home, Kyler was sent to wash his hands IMMEDIATELY. When he returned, he (Moms, y'all know where this is going. . .) asked (not his dad but) me to smell his hands. Let's just say he had to rewash them. . .In closing, let me share what we learned from this experience.

Lessons learned:

1. The cotton ball goes on the ground.
2. At all times, the cotton ball goes on the ground.
3. DO NOT TOUCH the cotton ball.
4. Boys are gross.
5. Wind, water, soap, steel wool, acid (I jest) will not remove the scent of doe urine.
6. Do NOT respond to the words, "Mom, smell this."
7. Ever.
8. No matter what.

a letter to my fellow wal-mart customers revisited

This post was originally published on Tuesday, October 21, 2008. I am pleased (yet afraid to say out loud) that it has been at least a month since Kady threw a fit in Wal-Mart. Of course, it's been a month since we've been to Wal-Mart. . .but on a positive note, we did ditch the pacifier! [happy dance]

Dear Y'all,
I'm sorry. Yes, I am THAT mom, and that was my daughter. I'm sure you heard us. You know, the 2-year-old who screamed ALL THE WAY through Wal-Mart. I know several of you thought about calling DHS. Some of you even had your phones out (and may have made the call . . .). I would just like to explain my side of the story (before DHS gets here).

I rarely go to Wal-Mart, and when I do, I usually grab just the essentials. This time, the essentials took up more than my two arms could carry. . .so I got a shopping cart. It turns out my very determined and head-strong daughter (she was Ssssssooooooooo switched at birth with some other totally sweet and laid-back child) didn't want to sit in the cart. She wanted me to hold her. Call me a failure, but I am not able to push the cart and hold her. Thus, she attempted to make the great escape. . .by flinging herself out of the cart. So, while it's quite possible that it looked like I was throwing her out of the cart, I was actually holding her in. I PROMISE.

Shall I just point out that my lovely daughter has red hair? (and the temperament to go with it. . .) This is the child that will have the pacifier until the day that the orthodontist removes it from her braces. This is the child that refused to apologize to her daddy for over thirty minutes after she hit him. This is the child that holds her own against children two times her size. . .not that her brother has anything to do with that. . .And, while we're at it, did you notice my other child standing quietly? (He was thoroughly embarrassed as well. . .)

I'm sorry. I can't say that enough. I know that many of you go to Wal-Mart simply to relax and enjoy the calm, less-frenzied atmosphere. No? Oh, well, then surely you'll forgive me. And, if not, we'll wait till you return to Wal-Mart and you can hold my daughter in the cart. Thanks, for the offer, by the way.

Sincerely,

Well, you can call DHS to get my name and contact information. They'll probably have me on their frequent offender list by tomorrow. . .Just ask for "That Woman in Wal-Mart."

Does this make me weird?

And the answer to the title is: No, every other weird thing about me makes me weird. This could make me certifiable. . .As I drifted off to sleep last night, the sentence that floated into my mind was. . .

If I eat green beans, I will turn into a carrot.

Um, anyone want to venture a guess as to what my brain was thinking. I sure don't.

I can't help it

This is quite possibly a new low in my blogging "career," but I can't help myself. My mom sent this to me. It's an email that's been floating around for some time, but I can't help but comment on the humor (and truth) in it.

Here goes. If you're a local reader, you'll totally get these. I've added my commentary in italics. If you're not local, I'm sorry. Please come back another day. You're going to be completely lost.

Here are some ways to know if you're a true Arkansan.
If...
1. You can properly pronounce Ouachita. and that would be wash-a-ta
2. You think people who complain about the heat in their states are sissies. you haven't seen humid until you've spent an August weekend outside in Pine Bluff!
3. A tornado warning siren is your signal to go out in the yard and look for a funnel. Okies are so much worse about this than we are : )
4. You know that the true value of a parking space is not determined by the distance to the door, but by the availability of shade. too true!!
5. Stores don't have bags, they have sacks.
6. You've seen people wear bib overalls at funerals. True story: my brother's grandfather-in-law wore bib overalls to my brother's wedding. . .I kid you not!
7. You think everyone from a bigger city has an accent. and you can tell which part of Arkansas by listening to it!
8. You measure distance in minutes.
9. You go to the lake because you think it is like going to the ocean. It's not?
10. You listen to the weather forecast before picking out an outfit. nah--you know it'll change. You just wear many layers and prepare for the dizzying array of temperature changes that we call seasons in Arkansas.
11. You know cow pies are not made of beef. You know the Beef Princess thing? Well, the local festival that was going on when I was crowned used to have a cow chip throwing contest. No, that's one contest I never entered.
12. Someone you know has used a football schedule to plan their wedding date. well, the Hogs schedule is used to plan many things. . .That's not that unusual, is it?
13. You have known someone who has a belt buckle bigger than your fist. just one?
14. You aren't surprised to find movie rental, ammunition, beer, and bait all in the same store. Heber Springs, baby!
15. You know that a Mercedes Benz isn't a status symbol here - A Red Ford, F-250, Crew Cab, with Dual Wheels and Four Wheel Drive is. If you change this to a Dodge, then my husband is SO driving a status symbol. . .and the welding machine in the back will just make it look TOO cool!
16. You know everything goes better with 'Ranch'. and ketchup. we're classy that way!
17. You learned how to shoot a gun before you learned how to multiply. my kids certainly have. . .
18. If you know who Slick Willy is and how he achieved his name. yep. . .but officially, my comment is "No comment" and it "depends on what your definition of the word 'is' is."
19. If you have ever had this conversation: "You wanna Coke?" "Yeah." "What kind?" "Dr Pepper." my dad is the worst about this. If you take that man to Sonic, he always orders a coke. You know, the Dr. Pepper kind.
20. You know that "Whooooo Pig! Sooie!" is Calling the Hogs! GO HOGS! What?! You knew I was going to say it!
21. You know where Fannie Fox Freeway is and how it was so named.. no idea on this one. anyone else?
22. If you know what "Black Ice" is. yes
23. You know how to get to Toad Suck, and Petit Jean Mtn. yep
24. Why the state flag is diamond shaped. yep and I would love to take the kids to find diamonds! How cool would that be?
25. If you've ever listened to Bob Robbins or Craig (Lips) Oneil . unsure on this one, also. any help out there?
26. Ever been up the Pig trail and floated down the Buffalo . yep. I can't wait to take Kyler floating again! We floated a different river last year. He had so much fun (as did I!).
27. Your summers are measured in consecutive days that the temperature exceeds 100 degrees. and have we mentioned the humidity?
28. If you know the horse track is in Hot Springs and the dog track is in West Memphis. yep. although I've never got to go to either. I have been to Hot Springs and West Memphis, however.
29. If you ever bought earthquake insurance because you were once worried about the New Madrid Fault. nope.
30. Deer hunting is considered an excused absence in your High Schools. only for Jodie : ) (Love ya, Jodie!!)
And Finally: 31. You are 100% Arkie if you actually get more than half of these jokes and are "FIXIN'" to show them to your friends.

Well, it's official. I am an Arkansan. How did you do?

I promise not to repost emails from now on! (no matter how funny they are!!)

Ah, my glory days. . .

Per your request, the above picture is the newspaper clipping of my Beef Princess days. The girl on the left was the state beef princess. The girl on the right was the previous year's beef princess. I would be the shining glory in the middle. No, I don't know what was up with that flip of hair in my face. I actually paid to get my hair to do that. . .To add to the embarrassment, this clipping was submitted and featured on Jay Leno's segment "Headlines." I believe his comment was, "What a bunch of cows." Thanks, Jay.

For more embarrassing stuff (about other people this time!) check out We are THAT Family.

Not exactly a match made in heaven

Kyler's class has been learning the art of writing letters. Each day, one child was chosen and everyone else wrote a letter to that student. When finished, the letters were bundled and sent home with the students. It was so much fun to read what each student wrote to my son. They ranged from the mundane:
Dear Kyler,
Do you like anims (animals)? Whel, I do do you. Kyler you are cool. I think you should which (watch) Old Yeler.

Love,
HP

to the very sweet:
Dear Kyler,
I am so glad that you are in my class this year. What are you going to be when you grow up. I think you should be an artes (artist) when you grow up. You would be good. I think you should be famous because you are very smart.

Your Friend,
RP

to the hilarious:
Dear Kyler,
I know we are the best artists in the class. But we shouldn't brag on our selfs. What are you going to be when you grow up? I think you should be a Artist Because that's what I'm going to be. What are you going to be if you don't do that? Are you going to make bibles? Do you like Mrs. [our teacher's name]? I think you should like her more. Have a great day.

Your friend,
MJ

and there's this one:
written in the most prim, neat handwriting you can imagine
Dear Kyler,
I know we don't always get along that well. Don't you like to read books about animals? I love writing poems I want to do some again! Do you like to write poems? If you don't you should because you can do a lot of writing and it's like practicing your handwriting. Poems are very, very fun to write. The 1 poem that you wrote about "We all scream for winter clothes" that poem is really good. Do you like math? I do because you can do adding, subtracting, and times tables and a lot of other things. You have been very good in class.

Your friend,
EC

Hmm, after reading that last one, I can't imagine why my fun-loving, school-hating son doesn't always get along with her. . .Can you? And, please, no comments about how I would have been the last one when I was in school! : )

I was there--kinda.

Really behind on this, but on Saturday, my post about Kyler's, um, "forks" was featured on 5 minutes for humor. Go HERE to check it out, if you're interested.

because we haven't laughed enough. . .

Head on over to the Red Clay Diaries. She's at the Blissdom '09 conference, but we'll try not to hold that against her. Check out this video from the Ellen Degeneres show. It is guaranteed to make you laugh. (Click on any of the previous text to get there.)

PSHAW!! I don't need no stinkin' filing system!

I'm not sure how we'll do on our taxes this year. Kevin started a new career, after all.

However, with a filing system like his, how can we go wrong?!

dressing in the dark

My daughter is at that wonderful age where she wants to do everything herself. She's beginning to be able to do more for herself. She brushes her own teeth (and then I "check" them AKA rebrush them). She helps me cook all the time. She sings her own songs. She tells her babies all kinds of things. She pretends to be a Dora princess or Barbie or "Shortcake." She dresses up in creatively styled outfits, e.g., a sleeveless yellow summer dress with thick blue sweatpants.

Since Kevin has been home, we've made Kady go to sleep in her bed by (grandmothers, please turn away and stop reading now!) herself. We tuck her in, read a book, say prayers, and leave her in her room. It's been traumatic. I couldn't have done it if Kev wasn't home. (I used to sit in her room until she fell asleep.) Kady cried and fought this new step. . .for a few minutes each night. I am starting to think this is not what will emotionally scar her for life. (I've been wrong before, but. . .)

It seems there has been some hanky panky going on after lights out, however. (Not that kind! Get your mind out of the gutters, people!) Anyway, the night before last, we heard Kady making what we thought were wheezing sounds, so we went into check on her. (She was not, in fact, wheezing, just snoring softly.) When we did, we found she had emptied out everything out of one of her dresser drawers and changed out of her pajamas and into the afore-mentioned yellow sundress and blue sweatpants.

Last night, we picked up her room and told her in no uncertain terms that she was NOT to open her drawer and get anything out. All was well last night when we tucked her in. She had several instances of getting out of the bed, but she was immediately escorted back to her bed. (Super Nanny would have been proud.) Shortly after being put to bed (and put back to bed), all was quiet. Well. . .kinda. I soon heard the unmistakable "clink" of her drawer pulls being, well, pulled and then, "Sssshhhhhhh." Trying not to laugh, I whispered to Kevin what we were hearing, and then, together, we heard, "Ssssshhhhhhhhhh." My daughter, the stealth dresser.

This almost beats the time she tried to sneak by us at MooMoo's house, so she closed her eyes. Almost.

whoa, there I go!

forgive me. I have been a bad blogger. It's my work, and it's going to get worse before it gets better. We're starting this week short handed and are losing one therapist for two weeks starting Wednesday. If my boss doesn't have a nervous break down in the next two weeks, then I promise to have one for her.

A nurse told me a very funny story about a local doctor today. This unnamed doctor went into a very hard of hearing and confused patient's room. The patient was very agitated and kept asking for his deceased wife. The doctor leaned toward the patient and yelled, "SHE DIED!" The patient gulped, looked at the doctor, and asked, "Today?"

Needless to say, please don't send that doctor in if I'm ever confused. I hope to be pleasantly confused like the patient I treated on one of my internships. She kept asking about the cruise ship she thought we were on.

Confident? Not yet.

Kyler has had difficulty with school. There--I said it. He has made tremendous progress this year. We just received his report card for the first semester. He had improved EVERY subject (except Social Studies, which was already a 97%).

Last night, Kevin and I told him how proud we were of him. We told him how great he had done, what great grades he had, and how hard we knew he had worked. He looked at us with a VERY serious expression on his face and said, "Are you sure that report card is mine?"

I refrained from replying, "Yes, honey, I'm sure. No one else has that many tardies. . ."

ode to the mailman

sometimes your mail thrills
other times you bring us bills

through rain, sleet, and snow
you always to our house go

now, I must protest
our mail is messed

our magazines and books

are not for your looks

please we ask of you

our mail is not for you

so in honor of your service, I utter my appreciation
in observance of your lack of privacy, my dissatisfaction.

Notice: Poetry is not for me. Now you know. . . and knowing is half the battle.

Kyler is at my dad's house today after leaving school with a headache and low-grade fever. He still has a bad headache. Thank goodness for grandparents.

my dream job

I think I found my husband a job. Heck, I think I found me a new job!

Australia offers up 'best job:' Lounge in Paradise

(Not that I'm not already in paradise, but. . .)

What do you think?

How much would it cost to get Diet Dr. Pepper to a deserted island?

I told you so

What I wanted to tell the vampires from the insurance company who were here to get my blood today:

I am not a nurse.

I will never be a nurse.

Therefore, I promise to never attempt to draw blood.

I also know nothing about drawing someone else's blood.

However, I might know a little more about MY blood.

And my veins.

When I tell you that you have to use my hand or that my veins "roll" (whatever that means), listen to me.

I did not spend Saturday night thinking of ways to steal your job or make it harder.

I promise!!

I am, however, deathly afraid of what you're doing to me, so please, do it with the most information in the least invasive and least painful way possible.

That is all. Carry on now. (I told you that you would have to use my hand.)

And if you're here from We are THAT family, WELCOME! I am so glad you're here, and I hope you'll stick around awhile!

kinda missed the point

We were on our way to school this morning and listening to the Upwards cd. (When you play Upwards, they give you a cd that has songs to help you memorize your scriptures.) To be fair, this was the first time we listened, and we're all worn out this week.

Kyler looks up at me with this puzzled look and says, "He got his 429?"

No, babe, that would be "Luke 4:29."