Two cracks in the head, two front teeth, and other sisterly torment

The thunder rolled and boomed through the house.  Lightning cracked outside and suddenly I heard the tapping of little feet running my way.  I took a deep breath and sighed because it meant my little brother was coming in the room.  The door to my bedroom slowly creeped open, and a thin trail of light slid over my face.

“Come on”, I told him.

This was a routine for him.  The little brat was SCARED of thunderstorms.  My little brother and the other storm refugees were suddenly piled into my bed with me.  He of course brought along his trusty blanket and the Snuggle laundry softner bear.  He loved those commercials when he was a kid.  I sighed again and rolled over to try to get some sleep.

My brother, Tim, however was not in the mood for sleep.  The thunderstorms had him worked up to the point of no sleep and at the age of four what that really meant was he wanted to wrestle.  As I snuggled down into the warmth of my bed, I suddenly felt the covers being yanked away from me and heard his little giggle.  I rolled over, gave him a dirty look, recovered myself, and tried to go back to sleep again.  A few seconds later YANK, cold air.

With an increasing amount of hostility I reached over, covered myself again, and told him to knock it off.  It worked for about another thirty seconds, and at this point I was getting mad.  I pulled the covers away from him and wrapped myself up in them so they were held down by my weight.  His giggles stirred the quiet air as he tried over and over to pull the covers away again.

Then he made the fatal error.  He actually pulled them out from under me again.  I flipped over, grabbed them, and we started an all out tug-of-war.  He was in the bed squatting down, and for some reason he put the covers in his mouth to pull on them.

Suddenly, a little light went off in my head.  I remember slowly looking down at my hands and then looking over to him.  I realized he was not actually holding onto the blankets with anything other than his teeth.  I did what any good sister would do at that point.  I let go.

Tim flew backwards off of the bed and landed on a game that was on the floor on that side of the bed.  To this day, we argue about what game it was.  He claims it was Hungry Hungry Hippos, I claim it was some left over 70’s reject handmade down from the next door neighbors.  Regardless, what it had was four sharp edges and the ability to crack a skull…ummm twice.  This exact same story happened again a few months later.  One time he got staples in his head the other time…nothing.  For the record…the second time I got in trouble.

What does he get out of this now?  A military haircut that proudly displays 2 of the war wounds from growing up with an older sister and people constantly asking him how he got those scars on his head.

Two Teeth Later:

Fast forward a year.  Our house was a smaller home when I was growing up, but what it did have was a hallway with doors at two ends so we could run in circles around the house.  One of our favorite games was for one of us to randomly hit the other one, and then the chase would begin.  Round and round we would go until our mother yelled at us to stop before SHE spanked us.

Well, on this particular day, my brother was chasing me for some reason, and mom was yelling to stop it before the beatings (I use that word lightly not seriously) commenced.  I stopped the chase alright!  I slammed the door that my brother was about to run through.  Instead of running through an empty doorway, he was met face to face with the doorknob.  One front tooth went flying, and the other was knocked loose.  The second tooth fell out about a week later when he was chewing on a curtain (Why in the heck was he doing that???!!) in his bedroom.

His teeth now?  Beautiful and he has one of the most attractive smiles I have EVER seen on a man.  The jerk.



The first day of spring

I love spring.  I love the first days of spring before the tree sperm coats everything in a gross green color and before I start sneezing my head off.  I was shopping for a birthday present for my nephew last week and I saw something I couldn’t resist.  A kite.  It brought back so many great memories from my childhood.  I thought I would share one.

My dad reached down and buttoned my sweater a little tighter.  He smiled at me, grabbed my tiny little three-year old hand, and walked me across the street to the empty field there.  I remember pushing the hair out of my face over and over because the fine curly hair of a three-year old just didn’t stay in place on a windy day.

My dad held this triangle-shaped thing in his hand.  I remember it had Snoopy on it.  He was sleeping on top of his dog house just like he did in the cartoons!  I didn’t understand what we were doing, but I knew I was with my Dad, so I was happy.  He had me sit down in the field and told me to look closely at what he was doing.

I heard a snapping sound and a rustle as the wind caught the Snoopy triangle.  It quickly lifted over my Dad’s head.  I saw the little string holding it to a cardboard roll in my Dad’s hands.  He let the string roll out from in between his middle and ring finger and slowly pulled downward.  The kite flew up higher and higher!  I watched it rise way into the air and I remember wondering if it could touch the birds!

Dad then came over to me and slid the cardboard roll into my tiny hands.  He showed me how to pull down and make the kite fly higher.  We laughed together as it went higher and higher into the air.  The long purple tail on the kite flapped in the wind.  I remember cuddling up against him and smelling Old Spice while we sat there and flew a kite for what seemed like hours.  Neither of us seemed in any hurry to bring it down.

Do you have any pleasant memories of spring?


PCOS- The humor and the heartache Part III

I read about PCOS.  I studied.  I delved into realms of fertility I thought no woman had ever heard of.  I read things I know men didn’t WANT to hear about; things like fertile mucus.  I charted my fertility patterns, or lack thereof, I cried, I prayed, and most of all I hoped.  I hoped that one day I would have that child that my husband and I wanted so bad.

I remember thinking to myself “Just one child.  That’s all I need.  Just one.  I am not being greedy, I just want one.”, but still that day never came.  I found myself looking into my past and being angry over not having a child before.  I found myself angry at the miscarriage I am 99% sure I had at 18 years old.  Even though the baby would have belonged to a complete jerk, I was so mad that I lost the one baby I could have had.  I know now that it was the best thing for me to not have a baby, but I was still resentful over loosing one.

I was pissed at the world and bitter as all get out.  Between people constantly asking me when I was going to have a baby, and watching other people around me have babies who didn’t want or appreciate them, I was livid.  I started resenting everyone I knew who had children.  I became bitter at other women who had one child, yet “whined” about not having a second, or third, or fifteenth.  Suddenly every woman out there who had a child was my enemy because that had something I couldn’t have.

Does this make sense?  Probably not, but at the least I can try to explain.  It’s something a woman has NO CONTROL over.  I didn’t have to be jealous of someone who became a lawyer or a doctor.  Why?  Because if I wanted to, I could go to law school or med school and be the same if not better as those other women out there.  There is no challenge out there that I cannot win if I want to win it.  No challenge except becoming a mother.

An average women has a 1 in 5 change in getting pregnant.  I would take those odds any day for a lottery, but when it comes to being pregnant, those odds are not good enough.  Not even on a good day.  Sure there are things out there a woman can do to try and help the process along, but even under all the right conditions, being fertile, having a fertile partner, and having the moon aligned with Venus on the second Thursday of a month with five Fridays, you still get a 20% chance to become pregnant.

At this point, I talked to my husband about it and decided that trying out fertility drugs to help with ovulation was the way to go.  I started taking a little white pill called Clomid that was supposed to make my life a lot easier.  Surely, this would fix it and I would have a child.  YAY!  I was giddy again at the prospect of becoming a mom.

I cursed and shook my fist at fate that I was due to ovulate while I would be on a trip to visit my brother who was in flight school.  However, that was the least of my problems.  I was swelling up like a 3 ton mac truck.  Oh yes, hahaha funny funny I was getting fat before I got pregnant.  How lovely is THAT medicine?!  I was already a bigger woman hence the PCOS in the first place, so I found it completely disturbing that I was gaining weight like a hog before a Hawaiian feast!  I wasn’t eating more food!  I was still on Weight Watchers to make sure I wasn’t gaining weight, but man the pounds piled on.  About three months into taking this miracle drug, I was 40 lbs heavier, had feet the size of cinder blocks, and a face that looked like the Stay Puffed Marshmallow Man had permanently possessed my body.

I actually became concerned when my feet were so swollen they hurt to walk on them.  I called the doctors office and told them I was pretty sure something was wrong.  You could poke the top of my shin and it would leave an indention in my leg for about 30 minutes.  I KNEW this couldn’t be right.  I was told I was “eating too much salt”.  I thought to myself B.S.!  I don’t even like salt, so I started checking how much I was eating per day.  I was actually consuming LESS than the daily recommended amount by the FDA.  That was when I called back and threw a fit to see the doctor.

I walked in to have a visit with Mr. Internal Ultrasound, and sure enough he yanked me right off of those meds because they were not going to work for me.  He told me my next option:  $1,500 a month for shots.  Insurance wouldn’t pay for it.

– To be continued.



Junior High School Face Plants

It’s true.  I am probably the most clumsy person I know.  I look back on my youth and wonder over and over again how it was that I managed to play sports like a fiend, and be good at them, while being as clumsy as I am.  Oh the stories I could tell you to throughly embarrass myself.  OK, I am gonna do it. *cringe*

I played volleyball in Junior High.  I am sure I was only allowed on the team because in JR.HIGH being 5’3 is somewhat tall.  I think the coach had hopes I would end up a lot taller than the .5 inches I grew before my body said “Nah, that’s it.”  Our volleyball net was portable for practices, so basically they were tall poles inside a tire and filled with concrete.  We would roll them out everyday and tie the tops of the poles to the bleachers to keep them from moving while we practiced.  I hope you are getting a good mental picture here of my gym and NOT of all the hot guys playing volleyball in Top Gun.  Nope, I am not thinking of hot sweaty guys from movies either.  Jr. High School thoughts only!

There I was in all of my 5’3 glory doing warm up laps around the gym.  When we approached the ropes tied to the bleachers, we simply jumped over them and kept on running.  Until the day my back foot caught it and I did a belly flop right onto the gym floor.  C sized boobs + gym floor = THE SUCK.  Why didn’t my math teacher give me THAT lesson?  At least it is something I could have used in the real world.  To make it so much less embarrassing, (sarcasm), Coach Norton came to see if I was ok.  Of course, I am a good sport about embarrassing moments, so I was lying there laughing my head off, and I look up to see the coach snickering as she asked me if I was ok.  That was a great moment in my life and probably one I will never forget.

How about you?


Being Girly! The list of 5!!!

I can’t remember where the List of 5 originated.  I want to think it was on an episode of Friends.  By the way, I miss that show and I have ALWAYS loved it, although Monica got kind of annoying towards the end.  Regardless, at some point in my life, the List of 5 was born.  The List is 5 is a fake list that you make up with your spouse where you could essentially get a get out of jail free card if you ever met them in real life.  Translation:  If you wanted to bang them you could and your spouse couldn’t get mad!  Well, over the years my list of 5 has changed. 

See, I have this little problem.  I don’t think celebrity men are always hot just based on how they look.  I like the roles they play in movies more than how they look on a day to day basis.  For example, I can say that Matt Damon WAS HOT in Ocean’s 11, but not so much in other movies. I can say that Ben Affleck was HOT in Armageddon, but not so much in other movies.

I have had three men though, who have always made the top 3 of my list.  I reserve the right to add two more as I deem fit!  Until then here is my List of 3!!

#1  Orlando Bloom


I have one word for you.  YARRRRRRRRRR!  He was so hot in The Pirates of the Caribbean I could drool on myself just from thinking about how he looked.  In the last movie when he is sailing around with that purple bandanna on his head…I almost lost it right in the theater.  YUMMY and YARRRRR again just to clarify.  Also, not so hot in Lord of the Rings, but pretty much every movie after that he has had me drooling.

#2- Kevin Smith


If you are not seeing the trend here yet, I generally fall for the tall, dark, and handsome types.  I mean look at him.  Does he not have the sweetest baby face on the planet?  Aside from his good looks, he is insanely intelligent, and HILARIOUS.  If you have not watched An Evening With Kevin Smith, get off your duff and go rent it.  You’ll laugh til you pee yourself.  I recommend puppy pads on all sitting surfaces to combat the mess.  If you want to know more about him, please look him up.  He really is an amazing person.  Disclaimer:  I cannot be held accountable for the overuse of the F word on any of his websites, articles, or appearances.  The man likes to curse, but then so do I!

#3  Billy Boyd


Billy.  He’s Scottish.  He has that fantastic accent, and he is against most of my typical guy fettishes.  He is shorter than most of the guys I like, he has hazel eyes, blondish hair, and oh wait…there it is…the thing I like the most…He is absolutely one of the most hilarious people I have ever seen on video.  If you have not been nerdy enough to sit down and watch all of the bonus features on your Lord of the Rings DvD’s then do it.  DO it now and your life will be a lot happier.  If you don’t own LOTR then you should go confession, buy the entire triology, and spend this weekend watching them because those movies are amazing.  Seriously.  Do it.  I’m watching you. 😉  OH OH back to Billy Boyd, yes, he is probably on of the funniest people I have seen in candid recordings. 

I had a hard time deciding whether or not to make him or Kevin Smith #2 on the list, but I figured since Kevin Smith had a shit demon in one of his movies he deserved to be #2.  That left Billy at #3, and now I have to ponder whether to leave slots 4-5 open or to go on a hot guy watching fest this weekend.

Which guys/girls would YOU put on your list of 5 and why?

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