Monday, April 30, 2012


Been reminiscing about my little guy after finding (well, re-finding) an old photo of him.  He had been "inked" all over by his big brother, who clearly has mad drawing skills.  They both came out of the bedroom/tattoo parlor, faces beaming, SO proud of their work.  Yeah, we documented the heck out of it.

That little guy, who thought his super powers came from his golden tresses, is now a big dude, whose super powers mysteriously remained even after a drastic haircut, with a very deep voice...which he uses often to tell me this as he follows me around, stalking me, because, obviously, he loves me so.

"You're getting smaller mom."

"Really, why are you shrinking, mom?"

Love, love, love him!

Sunday, April 29, 2012

"Some" Assembly Required

We've got a new piece of furniture from IKEA.  A very large chest of drawers for the big guy that came in two not terribly big boxes..."some" assembly required.  OK, so Dave jumped right in.  There's been a myriad of vocalizations from his end of the living room.

"I lost a screw."
"Um, this piece is on backward, that doesn't matter, right?"

So, I probably should've helped, but really, it looked much more like a "one dude" job.  So...I framed 26 of my paintings for an upcoming show.  Some serious "some" assembly required business on my end, too.

What were the boys up to?  Well, you see, this is a very big day around the Parsons House.  I probably should've lead with this big news, but here goes.  Benjamin got his first car today!!!!!  He's now the proud owner of my dad's old (not very) minivan.  Yeah, I know it's not the coolest vehicle out there, and it has rather mediocre pick-up on the highway, and it screams "mom mobile," but all those things spell "A-W-E-S-O-M-E" to me.  And I'm so proud of him for being so excited about it!  He and his little brother spent the afternoon making that minivan shine, inside and out.  I suggested getting magnetic flames to put on the side, or pimping it out in some way, but no, he prefers that it be stealth-mobile, perfect just as it is.  So, basically, that's a "no" to "some" assembly required on the minivan.  Congrats, kid!

Can you tell I'm ready to be at the beach?

Saturday, April 28, 2012

A New Low in my Parenting Skills

I've officially sunk to a new low in parenting...and I'm sinking even lower by blogging about it.  What happened?  I'll tell ya.  Dave wanted my big guy to go help him set up some HUGE screens for a meeting.  The kid would've made some pretty good cash if he'd said "yes".  Well, cut to the end of the story, I went with Dave to do the set-up.  I like to think I'm better help anyway, at least I smell like a girl, sorta, which is a bonus, right?  Anyway, I should let you in on what transpired to create a change in Dave's labor force.

Insert photo of me hanging my head in embarrassment here.

Big guy:  "Mom, I don't want to go help dad."

Me:  "Go help dad, you need the money."

Big guy:  "No I don't, I have money."

Me:  "I know, but you'll need money in the near future."

Big guy:  "I'll let you squeeze two of my blackheads if you'll go help dad instead of me."

Me:  "OK."

I know, I know, disgusting, right?  But, the truth is, sometimes I think I missed my calling by not being a wound care specialist.  I'm not one to gross out on an abscess on my dog, a huge pus-filled spider bite on my kid's knee, I even do fine with a little gangrene on my cat.  Seriously, the ickier, the better.  There's just something about it that appeals to me.

Side note #1:  I LOVED studying parasites during college and took any opportunity to research and write about them.  I still google them on occasion if I need a parasitic fix.

Side note #2:  I totally passed out, literally hit the pavement, when I took my little guy to a doctor friend to see if the really large gash over his eye required stitches.  My friend was opening the wound and looking all around on the inside, and down I went, completely boneless.  When I regained consciousness, I was told that yes, he did indeed need stitches.  Guess I prefer pus, et al, to open lacerations.  We all have our limits, right?

So, to wrap this tale up, yes, I did take care of those two blackheads, and yes, I did help Dave with his set-up.  It was a win win thing!

Friday, April 27, 2012

Stick out your tongue and say, "Aaaaarrgh!"

Yes he did come into the room wearing a white eye patch with white tape all over it...and yes he did have a black pirate's patch drawn on top of it with a Sharpie...and yes he did have eye patch strings drawn on his forehead and his temple, also with a Sharpie.  Seriously, he looked just like someone who had the bad luck of passing out at a frat party and woke up all Sharpied up, none the wiser.  Who am I talking about?  I'll tell ya.  This buccaneer is my G.P.  We've been happily seeing him and his amazing P.A. for at least ten years now.  And, yeah, we pretty much love them both.

I went in today because of the crud I've had for over a week now (yes, I know I've been quite the whiner).  Well, turns out I have a sinus infection, have rosacea ("pretty common with middle age women"...guess I've hit that milestone head on), and I'm "super fit" and "super attractive" (he said this after I asked about the 10+ pound weight loss I've had in the past five months as it worried me just a bit).  That last diagnosis?  You know, the fit/attractive one.  That's the one I'm sticking with.  Never mind the three prescriptions and one over-the-counter med I had to go to Walgreen's for.

I texted Dave to brag about my "diagnosis"...and, gosh, did he go on and on about how lucky he clearly is to be with someone so "fit" and "attractive"?  Um, no he did not.  He had to tell me what the Doc told him when he was having an exam in his southern region.

Doc:  "That's quite a tool you've got there."

Course then Dave had to admit that the Doc surely has a good eye for such things as tools, fitness, and attractiveness, right?

Yup, you think we'll ever switch to another Doc?  No way, way!  His skills are clearly above par, without a doubt.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Channeling my Inner Demi Moore

I've officially been sick a week now.  No longer miserably sick, but I now have no voice and I cough...a lot...and they're very pathetic hoarse little coughs...and tears leak from my eyes.  OK, I should pause now and just be thankful that at least during my coughing fits I'm not peeing, right?  Right.  Being thankful aside, I'm finding myself taking naps every day after school.  This, happily, gives me the opportunity to wake up with sexy mussed hair and stumble into the living room where I usually find Dave.  I croak something out, certain that I'm sounding like the very sexy Demi Moore.  He gazes at me, lip curling just a bit...

Dave:  "Even though your gross, you're a really gross way."

Hear that, my peeps?  He thinks I'm "sexy".  Nuf said!

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

"The Talk"

Just had "the talk" with my little guy.  OK, so it's not the first time I've had the talk...the first was when he and the big guy were young and I read the same book to them that my parents had read to me when I was about five.  I remember the looks on their faces and imagine it was the same look of horror/disbelief/disgust that I had given my parents when they presented me with the same information.

Anyway, "the talk" from last night.

Me:  "You know, all those hip hop lyrics do a bad job of conveying what love and love making really are."

Little guy:  "Duh, mom."

Well, OK then, my job here is done!  Thinking I won't have to address this any more, right?  Check that off my "to do" list!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

He's a Big'un!

My big guy and I went to the doctor today.  For him, not me.  If it were for me there's no way he'd be there, too.  Maybe in a decade or so, but not now.  He was there for something minor.  Achiness in his hands and shoulders.  My prime suspect is too much xBox time.  The doc didn't jump on my bandwagon...should've slipped him a $20 before the appointment.  Anyway, before we went to the room, the nurse had my big guy weigh himself.  And, oh my goodness, that kiddo weighs over twice what I do!  I had no idea!  I knew he was big, but then pretty much everyone over the age of twelve is bigger than I am, so my perspective on true "bigness" isn't particularly reliable.

After the nurse left the room I couldn't help but bring it up.

Me:  "You weigh over twice what I do."

Big guy (now really earning that title):  "Of course I do?"

He beckoned me to his side and had us compare the size of our forearms and upper arms.  After doing that I'm amazed that he's only two times heavier than I am.  I sat in the chair across from the examination table and just looked at him.  I must've bored holes in his head because he collapsed backward with a dramatic eye roll.

Wow, can't believe I birthed that amazing giant of a human.  Glad he was so much smaller back then!

Monday, April 23, 2012

Paybacks are, well, Moist

You know when your kid gets you?  Not like "understands you," rather when they "show you what's up," when you deserve the proverbial, "You got owned!"

Tonight when I was convincing my kid to put a load of laundry in the washing machine, he stood behind me, put his mouth on my tricep (the jiggly part...remember, the kid loves arm wattle...wattle blog link), and blew the nastiest, wettest raspberry.  Bleck!  This raspberry blowing on me has become a serious problem around here and had been on the increase and is now officially out of control.  So, my friends, if you've noticed I reek of boy spit these days, well, now you know why.

Anyway, after he did it to me tonight, I'd had enough.

Me:  "Don't do that to me!  Nobody likes having that done to them!"

Little guy:  "You did it all the time to me when I was little."

Me:  (feeling somewhat put in my place) "Yeah, but you liked it."

Little guy:  "No I didn't, mom.", paybacks are seriously slobbery.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Everyone Does It

I saw some kiddos holding projects the other day as they were walking into the school.  Made me think of all the projects our family (yes, "family," no, my kiddos never did them all by themselves) created over the years.  My big guy was quite sedate in his choices.  "How far will a ball go when hit by different types of bats?"  "Will a skateboard go faster down an incline if the incline has dish soap on it?"  Awesome stuff like that.  My little guy, well, from the time when he was little his were all about being human.  And, what can I say, humans poop and fart...a lot.

In kindergarten he wrote an illustrated a book about every member of his family pooping and farting.  His teacher was the coolest lady on this planet of ours and she loved and appreciated his efforts (he would've said "ef-farts", no doubt).  OK, I lied, this one he did do all by himself.  And we still have it.

In second grade he made a diarama about a book he had read.  I don't remember the book, but some character (perhaps a dog?) pooped in the book.  Sooooooo...he and I created a very large amount of the nastiest, brownest play dough you ever did see.  We created quite a scene (all I remember is the poo part) and decided it should be called a "diarrhea-rama".  Yes, we Parsons are quite clever, indeed.  Do we still have this lovely project?  Well, we did for a very long time...until it took on a smell...and it started to grow mold...and it began oozing through the bottom of the shoebox it was contained in.  It had to go.

In third grade (I think), he had to do a poster about a planet or a god or something.  Anyway, he chose Uranus.  Need I say more about that one?  This lovely thing is still hanging on his wall.

In fourth grade he did a science fair project about beans and farts.  He created a poster in a big cloud shape, like a cartoon speaking bubble...only it was a fart bubble.  I helped by typing up all the data and finding various beans for him to glue all over the poster.  He didn't win a prize.  I have no idea what became of this one.  I do have a photo of it somewhere...thank goodness!  Whew!

Now, that's just the school stuff.  Someday, if you're really, really lucky, I'll tell you about what he keeps on his bulletin board.  He's a, um, er, uh...collector of sorts.

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Cookies, a Reunion, a Griping...oh, and Happy Birthday to me!

I made a batch of cookies this morning.  The fam raided the cooling cookies, but I managed to put together a plate full to take to a high school reunion I was attending this afternoon.  It's funny, I can cover it with foil and it's like I live with a bunch of two-year-olds who don't yet have object permanence.

"What cookies?  I don't see any cookies?  There must not be any cookies."

I did leave three uncovered cookies on a plate, one for each of them, yup, I'm a good wife and mom...check!

Off to the reunion I went.  And, gosh, I was actually nervous!  You know, that anticipatory gonna-have-fun kind of butterflies thing.  And it was fun!  So much fun!  Our first reunion in 30+ years.  And, happily, all that time lets you drop all that high school stuff aside and just appreciate who everyone is.  And, I must say, this group of folks is aging quite well!  Yeah, we're rockin' it!  Ooh, and everyone sang "Happy Birthday" to me and I blew out candles and everything!  Awesome!

So, when I got home from the reunion and put the empty cookie plate in the sink I was accosted by the little guy.

Little dude:  "Why do you always take the cookies you make and give them to other people?!?!"

Me:  "Because you always say they're so good, so I want to share them."

Little guy:  "There not good, they're terrible, you should leave them here."

Me:  "Gosh, if they're so awful, I'll just quit making them."

Little guy:  "Aaaaaaaaggghhh!"

I love being a thorn in his side.  But mostly I love him!

Friday, April 20, 2012

House o Crud

So, yeah, don' be stoppin' by here.  We are the house of crud.  Well, everyone but Dave, that is.  And even he is considering not stopping by here.

I don't think I ever get to take an "alone time" sick day.  You know, a day where you feel like ca-ca pookie, but you're still able to embrace the joy that having the house to yourself is.  That was to be my silver lining when I woke up at 2 AM, realized I still had a fever, got online to set up for a sub, and then typed up my lesson plans.  (I've decided I'm not going to look them over at this point, don't really want to see the effects of febrile planning.)  I set my alarm and went back to bed planning on getting up just in time to get the little guy going.

Little guy, upon being awakened:  "I'm sick, mom, I think you gave it to me."  Oh, sure, blame mom.  Back to bed he went, and so did I.

Before noon big guy had been to the school nurse and was on his way home, sick, too.

What would I have done had I had the house to myself?  Betting I would've puttered around a lot, painted a bit, and basically blissfully wasted my day.  So, I bet you're wondering, did I tend to my sick boys?  Uh, no.  Did I take over eight hours worth of naps today?  Why, yes, I did!  Guess I owe the guys a dose of gratitude after all.

OK, been up for over an hour, time to go back to bed...yeah, found my bliss under all those comfy quilts.  Zzzzzzz...

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Shady Character

I've finally taken the leap.  Or maybe I've just given in.  Yes, I now own my first pair of bifocals.  You can't tell really, because I'm a touch vain and opted for progressives.  And, to further hang onto my youth I also opted for transitions..."Hello Hollywood" she comes in those cool shades.  While I was at it I also got bifocal contacts.  I really, really like them, and wear them almost all the time, but I have to admit that I find myself missing the reading glasses I loved.  I really dug that sexy librarian look I failingly strove for.  Sigh....

P.S.  I'm running a disclaimer for the delirious nature of this blog post.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Stop and Smell the Roses

My sweet neighbors have a sign in their front yard.  It reads "STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES" and is stuck firmly into the ground at the foot of a most amazing pink rose bush.  I'm not necessarily the most compliant person in the world, but, by golly, I follow its direction each and every time I pass by.  So does my little guy.  And ya know what else?  We stop and eat loquats, pet wandering cats, suck the sweet little drop of nectar out of honeysuckles, admire flowers that have defied the odds and have grown from cracks in the concrete, and rescue caterpillars crossing the street.

I was reminded today to embrace these wonderful little bits of life...they're beautiful and tasty (not so much the cats and caterpillars).

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Dirty Dawgs

After having our dog, Hazel, for over five months now, today I washed her for the first time.  Now, she's been washed, a bunch, but it's always been Dave doing it.  Really I don't feel bad having not done it, after all, I spent four-and-a-half years of my life nursing our children...gotta count for something, right?   And, actually, I washed both Scout and Hazel tonight.

Scout?  Well, she's easy peasy coconut squeezy.  You just call her into the bathroom and tell her to get in the shower and she walks right in.  She turns when you need her to, lets you pick up all of her legs without fuss, tolerates a rigorous face washing without protest, and turns into a sweet loving furry mush when you sing her little puppy love songs.  Hazel stood at the bathroom doorway, head rounding the shower door, and watched the fine example that Scout was.

Hazel?  Well, Dave doesn't call her "Donkey" for nothin'!  That girl!  Stubborn!  I tried talking nicely to get her in the bathroom, but ended up doing a half push/half pull method to get her in there.  Once in she tried repeatedly to get out.  I cornered her in there, telling her what a sweet dog she was, all the while, and then I turned the water on.  Oh, my goodness, you'd think I'd unleashed a thousand cockroaches to crawl all over her what with the major case of eeby jeebies she got.  I brought the shampoo out, squirted her back with it, and that girl, true to her "Donkey" name, sat down in protest.  I tried raising her and turning her about, but she remained in her intractable position, and, well, I worked around everything as best I could.  Sweet Scout, in her awesome protective big sister way, stood at the doorway, her head around the shower door, keeping tabs on the spectacle.  I caught her eye and I swear she gave me an "I was never, ever quite like that, was I mom?" look. 

Me:  "Yeah, Scout, that's one of the best things about being a mostly forget the hard times and let the good times fill up all the memory spots....mostly."

Monday, April 16, 2012

Why do Birds Suddenly...Bleep!

After loading up with every veggie I've craved over the past two years but haven't been able to eat...yes I did get the HUGE ten-pack of "Roasted Seasoned Seaweed," and yes, the lady at the exit door did say "Those must be really good.  A lady came by here a little while ago who had already eaten one of the packages while still in the store"...and yes I did say "I'm sure I can control myself better than that...(OK, back to ending the beginning of this paragraph) we pulled out of the Costco parking lot.

Little guy:  "There's nothing on the radio.  I'm gonna play something off my iPhone."  (Seriously realizing that I mention Apple products way too often and thinking I should get some kickbacks or something.)

Me:  "Awesome!"

So I start doing my singing/seat dancing routine, after all, I do pretty much love his hip-hop choices...I mean, who doesn't love a good remix of those songs I know from my teenagerhood, right?

Me:  Singing, seat dancing, waving my arms, putting them back on the wheel after being admonished, and "Holy fricka-fracka...did you hear what they just said?!?!"

Little guy:  "You're used to the radio versions, huh mom."

Me:  "Not really a fan of listening to those two words in front of my kid!"  In reality, the two words were just fine independently.  But, when placed side by side, AND I'm with my little dude, yeah, very awkward moment.  I open my bag of "Roasted Sesame Seaweed" and start anxiety munching.  I name a few artists that I've grown to like, radio-wise.  Each time I'm lulled into a sense of comfort until WHAM!

Little guy:  "You need a bleeper don't you, mom?"  I can see out of the corner of my eye that he's enjoying my discomfort.

I keep munching, munching, much for being able to "control myself".  Me thinks it's time for a little NPR.  Or maybe "The Carpenters".

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Nursing Home Dreams

Dave staggered sleepily out of the bedroom this morning, leaned against the door frame, and said, "Last night I dreamt we bought a nursing home."

Me:  "Why would you do that?!"

Dave:  "And we were the ones doing all the work."

Me:  "Did we take care of them by giving them all MacBook Pros and iPhones and ignoring them like we do with our children?"

OK, OK, truth be told, we do NOT buy our children MacBook Pros, we merely encourage them to use their own money to buy one so they'll fit in with their hip parents.  And we DIDN'T go out and buy them iPhones, we simply gave them our old ones when we went out and bought new ones for ourselves.  AND they have to pay part of the bill.  We'd definitely buy a bunch of nice old people that stuff though, so don't you worry yourselves over that.

P.S. Somebody please interpret Dave's dream for me.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

My Mommy is Super Smart!

I heard five amazing (and extremely rare) words tonight!  "That was really smart, mom."

I know, holy freak, right?!?!  Wanna know what prompted such an observant recognition of my pure genius?

Took my kids through the drive-through at P. Terry's tonight and our total was $11.42.  I told my big guy to dig out 42¢ from my cup holder.  OK, well, that was a "no can do" because they were super sticky from one of my kid's soda spillage at some I dug the coins out of my wallet.  I also took out a $20 and a $1.  We pulled up and I handed the guy the money.  And, what did he give me back?  Take a moment, do the math, yup, a $10 bill.

Cue the Big guy:  "That was really smart, mom."

And to think that so many people say, "I'll NEVER use this when I'm a grown-up." when they're taking all those elementary, middle and high school math classes.  Feeling pretty grateful I paid attention and have my mad math skills.  And that my sweet kid noticed.

Friday, April 13, 2012

Let your Fingers do the Talking

I remember WAY back before I got my iPhone, totally thinking less (I know, that's rude) of people who texted.

"Jeepers, just pick up the darn phone and call them!!!"

Jump ahead to now.  Yes, we have a family texting plan...and yes, it's unlimited.  Thankfully!

In the car tonight, my phone:  "Ding, ding, ding-da-ding, ding!"

Dave:  "Why are you always ding, ding, dinging?"

Me:  "Because I have a relationship with our children."

Dave:  "That's hurtful...."

Yup, I'm waiting for my "Mom of the Year" award to come in the mail.  Any day now.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Parsons gone Reggae

This morning's wake up routine with my little guy had a certain ring to reminded me of something I couldn't quite put my finger on at the time.  But, happily, it came to me later in the day.

Me:  "Get up."


Me:  "Stand up."

(Still waiting....)

Little dude:  "Stand up?"

(Spacey, quizzical look....)

Little dude:  "In real life?"

(Mom rolling eyes....)

Do you see it?  Do you hear it in your mind?  Go ahead, read it again, and this time channel your inner Bob Marley.  I double dog dare ya.


Awesome, dude!  Irie, mon.

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Wattle me This

So, ya know how it is when your kid starts walking behind you when you're out for an exercise walk and they say, "Hey mom, you need to start working out."  Yeah...well I know all about it.

Me:  "What do you think I'm doing right now?"

Little guy:  "Just walking."

Me:  "Yeah, I'm walking."

Little guy:  "I mean like when you worked out and you didn't have this."  He gave the back of my arm a jiggle-inducing tap.

OK, let me stop here and state that I weigh only 104...and, yes, I'm not in as good of shape as I'd like to be...and I can't remember ever NOT having back arm jiggle to some degree...yeesh, dude!

Me:  "Stop touching me."

Little guy:  "No, really, mom.  I'm just giving you advice.  You should work out more."

Me:  "But dude, one of your favorite things in life is jiggling my arm wattle."

Little guy:  "Oh, yeah...never mind."

My self esteem has been restored.  Sort of.

P.S.  I had a little talk later with the little guy.  "Dude, just for future reference, it's never a good idea to stop walking beside a woman and instead move to behind them, and then tell them they need to start working out.  We don't like that."  Yeah, he didn't get it...but someday he will.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Aging Gracefully...sorta

Dave and I are aging gracefully.  At least that's what we keep telling ourselves.  The lines on our faces we've come by honestly.  Mostly got 'em from each other and our children, of course.  They're a perfect reflection of the mixture of laughing/smiling/glaring that we find ourselves doing on a daily basis.  Dave still has pretty much all of his hair, albeit gray, and my blond is hanging strong, though don't look too closely, my split ends will poke you in the eye.  But, the other night when we were searching for the mystery smell in the fridge (yes, you're right, the Parsons house is always dealing with stinky smells of some kind or another), we got some serious perspective.

Dave:  "Maybe those mushrooms that went bad last week oozed some stinky goo in the drawer."

Me:  "Maybe it's something in the freezer."

Little guy:  "You two are probably smelling oldness on your upper lips."

Oh, snap!

Monday, April 9, 2012

Vegetables Make me Feel Naughty

Seriously, they do.  I sat at Whole Foods tonight eating lovely varieties of greens, some peas, and even (gasp!) asparagus.  I felt increasingly naughty with every bite I took.  If you know me pretty well, you know why.  For everyone else, well, almost two years ago I developed a blood clot under my clavicle.  If you're interested in the scoop on that, check below my's a little piece I wrote right after my diagnosis.  Anyway, that naughty feeling was WONDERFUL!  I haven't had those foods in almost two years and I noted every twang, all the amazing textures, the light crunch...mmmmmmm! 

Well, here's the current scoop.  Last week I had a doppler scan of my clot site and it was GONE!  The sucker had apparently finally dissolved and was assimilated into whatever old clots assimilate into.  So when I went to my hematologist today he ended up telling me to stop my blood thinning meds and to just go be a normal person (right.....).  Now, I'm not absolutely out of the woods.  I have to keep going back for a couple of tests, but if I'm still doing fine after six months I should be good to go.  So, yay!  OK, gotta go, I hear some broccoli calling my name.

"Be right there!!!"

May 9, 2010
What I’ve learned from my clot (who shall remain nameless, as I don’t want to become too attached to it)… Just to explain: on May 3, a blood clot was found under my right clavicle. I’d had symptoms of swelling, redness, and extremely visible (some bulging) veins in my right arm over the weekend.

- Well, I definitely know that I want to stick around, I pretty much like this “life” thing. Not ready to go yet.

- When something like this happens one’s life does flash before you. But for me, it’s not my life that I’ve already lived, it’s the life that is yet to come.

- People respond in many different ways when they know you have something potentially life-threatening going on, and all are equally fine and wonderful. Some are totally there for me, heart and soul, ready to listen, be a friend, do me favors, whatever. I’m blessed with A LOT of these! Some tell me stories of other people or themselves having had similar experiences. Some contact me just once and then fade away. Some have stayed away entirely after they’ve “heard about it”. And, some people, I swear, pick up on vibe from me and just feel that they need to get a hold of me for some reason, and they do. That’s pretty cool.

- When someone gives you a hug, you can tell if it’s the type of hug that means to them “This might be the last chance I ever have to hug you.” These hugs have a really interesting quality about them. They’re nice, actually, really genuine and full of delicious love.

- I am willing to do things that I never would have expected in order to get better, i.e. give myself shots, repeatedly, in my stomach. Whoda thunk it? My husband is also willing to do such things, i.e. giving me shots in my ass before I had the courage to start self-administering them. Thanks, babe! For everything!

- Stretch marks show up bright and clear, even through heavy bruising (yes, it’s my ass I’m talking about). Oh, and stretch marks are such a total nothing to worry about in the big scope of things.

- My children have their own age-appropriate ways of reacting to all of of this. Nicholas SO wants to give me a shot and loves watching me give them to myself. How groovy is that? He even offered to pull my catheter out when I was in the E.R. Um, thank you, but no. And Benjamin really wants to know how I’m doing, what the Dr. is saying about my lab work, and is generous with hugs when I’m feeling particularly scared, which has been a lot. Wow, both of them…so wonderful!

- I prefer to be more in control than this is allowing me to be.

- Going to sleep, and staying asleep, is very hard when you have in the back of your mind the possibility that a chunk of clot could migrate to your heart, lungs, or brain. Seriously not conducive to a good night’s sleep.

- Avoiding foods with Vitamin K is a bit challenging.

-  If you’re having trouble breathing AND you’re currently being treated for a blood clot you get service STAT at the E.R.

- That dye they put in you for a CT scan feels really creepy, warm, and odd.

-  My initial need for privacy about all this, and the fact that I’ve only let a limited few in on what’s going on (family/co-workers/need-to-know folks), so as to avoid those “pity” looks and time to process it all, is making me feel just a bit guilty that I haven’t told my dear friends/neighbors.

-  Even with everything that’s happened this week, and realizing that this is the most scared I’ve ever been, I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone’s. Being me pretty much rocks.

- And…contrary to what SOME people might think…I did not have a blood clot as part of my crazy attention-seeking compulsion. ;-)

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Survival Skills...Parsons Style

Gosh, are we internet dependent or what?!?!  Here’s what happened today…our internet was going ssslllllooooooowww.  Discussions were had, possible solutions were considered, plans were implemented.  Then…suddenly…we had no internet service at all.  So what did we all do in such a panic situation? 

Me:  I went to sleep.  I’d been up since 4 AM when my big guy woke me up making a Hot Pocket.  That and I had some very important fairy business to take care of early today.
Little guy:  He settled in with some TV.  Not sure what, I was asleep after all.
Big guy:  He fell asleep after watching said TV…after all, he’d been up till 4 AM.
Dave:  He’s the one we can count on.  He set about solving the horrific circumstances were all now forced to endure.  He talked at length with technical folks.  I’m in awe.  Me?  I’d probably just decide that the internet was finished for the Parsons, forever, and leave it at that.

I woke up an hour-and-a-half later and stumbled around (I’m super dippy after I take daytime naps) and settled in at the table to do a little painting. 

Dave got off the phone and walked over to us.  “I’ve got some terrible news!  We’re not going to have internet ALL NIGHT LONG!”
“What ever will we DO?!?!”

Well, I’ll tell ya what.  Big guy went back to sleep and the rest of us loaded up our laptops and booked it over to a coffee shop…with wifi!  And some rockin’ live music. 

Problem solved.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Feeling Feline Love

My cat loves me, let me count the ways.

1. He gently taps my face or goes on ahead and sits on my face to wake me up.

2. He makes super pokey biscuits on my tummy if I try to take a nap on the couch.

3. He head buts me as I fill his food dish.

4. He hangs out on the bathmat every night when I take a bath and he LOVES when I splash water on him.

5. He kills a lot of rats and leaves their carcasses right by my car so I can't miss them.

6. He curls up at the foot of my side of the bed every night when he's ready for bedtime.

7. He's always snuggling up to me somewhere if I wake at any time of the night.

8. When I get up he follows me around until I guess correctly what he wants.

9. He hangs out with me when I'm painting, plays with my paintbrushes, and drinks out of my brush water cup.

10.  He runs from wherever he's been hanging out outside to meet me whenever he hears my car or bike pull into the driveway.

Yup, I feel the love, Pug.  Back at ya little buddy!

Friday, April 6, 2012

Jealous much?

Dave's one of those husbands who is still totally a kid frequently, in a rockin' kind of way.  I hate to say it, but usually when he's pretending he's a six year old boy, I'm pretending I don't have any idea who he is.  Today we were leaving Costco and he was pushing the cart.  He pushed it faster and faster and then he jumped on the little ledge below the actual cart.  He drove that cart all the way down the parking lot aisle, never letting his feet touch the ground, swerving to and fro with a big goofy grin on his face.  Me?  I lagged behind, just a bit, so as not to necessarily be connected with him.  I mean, gosh, anyway I'd have to actually run if I wanted to keep up with the guy.  When I got to the car he beamed at me.

Dave:  "Jealous much?"

Me:  "No, and neither were any of the women who saw me with you." 

Uh, yeah, SNAP!

But, really, I am a pretty lucky lady to have a guy with such mad grocery cart skills.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Hand Signals

Headed out to a school event tonight and came upon the most adorable guy in a jeep waiting to enter traffic.  I wave him in and he and he gives me the biggest smile and the "thumbs up" sign rather than the traditional wave.  Love that!  As he moves through traffic he points to the left so a truck knows he wants to change lanes.  The truck drive slows and lets him move over.  Again, the awesome big smile and the "thumbs up" sign.

Me:  "I love that guy!"

Little guy:  Ignoring me.

We keep going just a bit until we're sitting at the light on South Lamar near Ben White, and there's a fella with a cardboard sign with a big heart on it.  He's making that heart sign with his hands that is all the rage these days and he's all smiles.  And, pretty darn good looking, I must say.  He gives up on the first car as his show is clearly doing nothing for them and moves toward us.  He abruptly turns around and grabs a sign pole that's on the median leans out and starts going around and around the pole, hanging way out into the street.

Me:  "Please no oncoming traffic hit him, please no oncoming traffic hit him...."

He stops and starts approaching us again.  He points directly at my little guy, backs up, and rubs his hind quarters up and down, up and down on the pole.

Little guy:  "Ew!  Why's he doing that?!?!"

Me:  Laughing hysterically.

He then wrapped his leg around the pole and starts spinning again.  Not exactly mad skills, but better than I can do (I know, I've tried!).  He approaches my car just as the light turns green and we move on.  Sorry dude, no five spot in your waistband today, but thanks for the great show!  I gave him the "thumbs up" sign and flashed him my biggest smile.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Mind Spam

The mornings are endlessly entertaining 'round these parts.  With track season earlier wake-ups, it's increased.  I think I'm seriously messing with his dream schedule.

Me:  "Get up." (After much very nice huggy/kissy prompting first, of course.)

Little guy:  "I'm downloading!"  (Yeah, and SNORING!)

Me:  "Come on, get up."

Little guy:  Much moaning and groaning as I get him to a standing/stumbling position and his brain is beginning to engage.

Me:  "Do you remember what you said to me a few minutes ago?"

Little guy:  "I don't know what you're talking about."

Me:  "You said, 'I'm downloading.'"

Little guy:  "I think my mind was getting spammed."

Er...can you say "way too much computer time"?!?!

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Confidentially...I AM A WABBIT!!!

For years now I've been telling my family, "Yeah, I'm little, but I'm mean."  I've used it throughout my children's childhoods and I really thought they bought it, hook, line and sinker.  I even quoted Bruce Banner, "You won't like me when I'm angry," and my children knew they didn't want to turn mommy into a big green guy with anger management issues.  As my children have grown, now taller than I, I admit that I've used my claim of "meanness" to bolster my spine when I'm dealing with behavior issues (don't worry too much...they're relatively minor and most definitely typical at their age).

Well, I was hanging out with my little guy and he was doing his try-to-pick-his-mommy-up-and-carry-her-around thing.

Me:  "You need to stop it!"

Little guy:  "You're tiny.  It's fun."

Me:  "I might be little, but I'm mean!"

He looked at me and laughed.  HE LAUGHED!

Little guy:  "You're less mean than a rabbit, mom."


Monday, April 2, 2012

Butt Crack

My kid played in the band AND played on the football team last semester, so I had a lot of opportunities to go to football games.  Being me, I sorta paid attention to the band when they played, I barely paid attention to the football game, but I did a heck of a lotta people watching.  Something happened to me last week that reminded me of that people watching.

So, a few months ago Dave and I were at a football game.  There was a group of super cute, giggling girls hanging out near us.  They all had cell phones in their back pockets.  All of them.  And, their pants were unbelievably tight.  Not judging, just telling the story of what I saw.  I get it.  I wore the same super tight pants at their age...and mine had accent holes/tears.  The thing is, I was in awe of those phones' ability to stay in the pockets.  I thought sure they'd shatter at the least and, perhaps, even shoot up out of their pockets at high speed.  Well, their phones all survived just fine, at least for the hour I was around them.

My phone did not have the same luck last week.  Were my pants super tight?  No.  Did I move in some way that caused my phone to shoot up, up, up and away?  No, I wish.  Ya know what I did do?  I went up to the top of the school playscape, got in line with my students, and took my turn and sat at the top of the slide.  About half way down...CRACK...something went terribly wrong.  I was scared to look but got my courage up to feel around the perimeter of the phone through the denim.  It was piggly wiggly.  Really, I was quite surprised as I do manage to provide ample padding in that area...yeesh, better than bubble wrap.  Too bad it was only on one side.  So, it turned out that my phone was actually just fine, but my lovely little phone cover was damaged.

It's all good now.  I'm thankful for Dave and his superglue skills.  Also thankful that he didn't give me a hard time about it and has cracked no butt padding jokes about the whole thing...although now I suspect they may be forthcoming.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

Stranger Danger?

My kids constantly get on my case for "talking to anyone".  Generally, whenever I go out, with them or alone, I'm either decidedly open to conversational encounters with strangers or I'm decidedly not.  Started out a trip to HEB in the "decidedly not" way this morning.  I had meandered through the produce section, the cheese section, up the snack aisle, when I realized how much energy I was putting into NOT making eye contact with people.  It actually takes effort for me as my M.O. is to briefly gaze into anyone's eyes who happen to catch mine.  I sort of thought I might get an eye cramp if I kept it up, so I altered my mindset to "decidedly open".  And what happened right away?  A lady came right up to me and asked me where the Gatorade was.  Yeah, I had no idea as they keep messing with the floor plan of my HEB, and I don't drink the stuff, so I made a guess (incorrect), and someone else stopped by and made a stab at it (incorrect as well), and then an actual HEB employee interjected into our conversation the correct place.  The first lady took off in the direction of the Gatorade.  The second lady and I had a conversation about where things were that we did know for sure.  She knew where the beer was, I knew where the gluten free section was (I'm doing a little dietary experiment right now).  Anyway, it was a lovely bit of brief human contact I got to make with a pretty fun and hip chick, the second lady.  All because I raised my eyes and locked in on that first lady.

I remember when my kids were little I was all about the "stranger danger" thing.  And, golly, explaining what a "stranger" is and why there was "danger" related to that "stranger-ness" was so darn complicated.

1. If you've never met them before, they're a stranger.

2. If you've met them, but just barely, they could still be a danger.

3. Oh, and if you've known them for years, they could be the worst danger yet.

4. I give up, let's just talk about good and bad touches/feelings and blow off this whole "stranger danger" thing!

And, icing on my love of strangers cake, today as I waited in a public bathroom to wash my hands, I made eye contact with a woman in the mirror.  We smiled at each other and when she turned around she told me I had amazing hair.  Now, see?  Strangers rock!