How One kid came to break the other, and more associated craziness…

On Mother’s day, I was given the gift every mother wants from her son, a broken arm.  Not my own, his and the subsequent ER visit on Mother’s day.  Thank God our pediatrician is a rockstar and chief of pediatrics at the hospital.  Hell, I’m no fool, I  called him on the way and plead for mercy!  He fast tracked us, and since calamity kid is a frequent flyer, we got the VIP treatment.  That’s how we roll. ha!  So calamity kiddo ends up with a broken right arm, and subsequent cast after a visit to the pediatrics sports medicine office.  Or should I say, machine.  That place cranks out 200+ plus kids and athletes a day.  Some doing the same boneheaded things all kids do.  He ends up in a baby blue hard cast.  Do you see where I’m going with this??  The parting words from Ray, their “Master Caster” were, “keep it dry, don’t stick anything in it, and don’t use it as a weapon.”. Those words went in and out quickly.  That night he was already whacking things with the cast.  Oy.

Fast forward two weeks.  Older son tells me, calamity kid whacked him with the cast and now he has a lump on the bone.  But he says it is OK.  Three days later, calamity kid apparently does it again and my older son says it is in same spot.  Sooo, I call orthopedist office to piggyback another appt onto calamity kid’s since he was getting his cast off in 3 days. 

We check in at the doctors, and the receptionist was skeptical.  “I’ve never heard of that happening, but OK.” never doubt a mother’s intuition, especially mine.  I could be a psychic.  The rest is like a Seinfeld episode.  It was backed up in X-ray, so a half hour wait ensues.   They take my older son back first, then second child.  The nurse comes out and tells me “it IS broken!”  I wasn’t surprised, but a bit horrified to be honest.  Right then she calls out to another tech “you will have to wait, I need to put the brothers in the casting room.  Yeah, one broke the other’s arm with a cast.  Isn’t that crazy!”. I wanted to crawl in a hole.  So we meet with the doctor.  She went over the findings, and said she’d never had this ever happen before.  Welcome to my insanity! 

So, after one gets a brand new full arm cast, and the other gets a brace, we go to checkout.  The receptionist, sees the new cast and exclaims “OMG it IS broken!” And proceeds to say one broke the other’s with his cast.  At that moment, every head whips around in the waiting room, audibly (along with corresponding gasps and giggles), and I waited for the comedy soundtrack “wha wha wha …”.  To quote Sally Brooks, “it is just a day in the life of a Suburban Housewife, word to your mother-fing mother.” Seriously.  Now where is my Mother’s Cure and make it a double.


This post is all about you… really it is. But only if your name is Kim :)


Today, I had a hair appointment with my Stylist Kim. Now, all my fellow sistas out there KNOW that a great stylist is better than a therapy session. Kim is truly the best. I look forward to my appointments every 8 weeks with incredible anticipation. My two hours with her are filled with gossip, laughter, sometimes tears, but I come out feeling and looking like a million bucks! Over the last 18 years she has become one of my best friends. Many of my friends go to her, and she also used to do my Mother’s hair. Today, we literally laughed ourselves into tears. All over the topic in the above picture. She likes to follow my blog, so she caught up on the latest while my “natural” color was perfecting, and we laughed about how people can turn every word you write into a ‘dig’ or hidden meaning. She also helped me figure out a bit of a mystery. So, Kim, this post IS all about YOU. You rock, my sista. Without you, I would not feel pretty on my bad days. Without our ‘hairapy’ sessions, I would truly not be the happy, and therefore positive and well-functioning person I am. You, my dear, are a master at what you do, and truly a wonderful friend. Here’s, to a lifetime of more hairapy sessions :). I have mad love and respect for you! Love you girl!

Words, words, words…and how I use them

If you read my blog, or any of my writing, you can probably tell, I don’t hold much back.  I let my words fly, as fast as my little fingers can keep up on the keys.  One word of advice, don’t try to read between the lines with me.  I’m literal.    I don’t use veiled comments often, if I want to say something, I do.  If I am one thing, it is bold.  When I have spoken in previous posts of my heartache on Valentine’s Day, I was being literal, but if you took the time to actually READ, you would discover my heartache was over the loss of my MOTHER the day after Valentine’s day.  .

When I spoke of discarded “lovers” in another post, I was talking about my Chihuahua, Skippyjonjones’ discarded “lovers”–my dirty panties.  Another .

The fact I have to explain my own words in MY blog is hilarious to me.  Maybe reading comprehension should be part of driver’s license renewal requirements along with vision tests…