The scariest thing...

Ya know how you always imagine what would be the scariest thing you'd even encounter?  When I was a kid, it was a spider.  Oh who am I kidding?  I'm still scared of spiders.  Only now I know how to yell for Joel to come kill them.  My hero.  Then when I got older it was being scared of being kidnapped (too many kidnapping movies!).  I think when I was in college it was the fear of failing a test.  I can't remember!  How sad is that?

Then I became a parent.  Suddenly the fears of my childhood paled in comparison to the fear that something bad would happen to my child.  These 2 little miracles are mine to care for.  The thought that something could happen to them is by far the scariest thing I could even encounter; it is my biggest fear.

Tonight that fear was made real.  Noah stopped breathing.

Let me back up.  Noah has been fighting a cold the past few days.  So has about every other person in the midwest.  However Noah seems to get croup at the drop of a hat.  (If you don't know what croup is, click here).  So I noticed tonight that he had a croupy-type cough.  That's just great.  Joel was currently at the urgent care office being tested for strep throat.  I had about a million things I needed to get done tonight.  Namely, make 2 pumpkin pies and 1 cherry pie.  The LAST thing I needed to do was take Noah in to the doctor.  Plus if I took Noah, I'd have to take Hannah since Joel was gone.  I figured I'd wait a little bit and see if his cough improved at all.  Maybe it's my imagination, I thought.  A few minutes later Noah emerged from under the counter (a favorite hiding spot for him) and showed me that he had gotten into Joel's protein powder and dumped it all over the floor.  I tamped down my irritation and calmly told him that we don't play in daddy's things and we'd clean it up.  Well, apparently that did him in.  He gave me the poochy-lip-quiver and got ready to let loose.  One thing about croup...you're supposed to keep the child calm.  If they get too upset and start crying, the airway closes even more making it very difficult/nearly impossible to breathe.  You can see where I'm going with this, right?

I tried to stop it, I really did.  But it was too late.  He started crying.  Not just a little wimper.  Nope, it was a full-on mommy-is-mad-at-me-so-I-must-cry-because-I-am-so-sad type of cry.  It only took about 10 seconds for the breathing to stop.  As I was holding him, trying to calm him, the crying ceased and he tried to inhale.  Nothing.  I could hear him start to struggle.  In that moment, all my medical training went out the window.  This was my baby.  What do I do?  Then my adrenaline started pumping and I flew into action.  Another thing I knew about croup is that if the child is struggling for breath, get them outside in the cold air or into a hot, steamy shower.  Well, the shower was going to take too long.  So out the door I went.  It was all of 25 degrees outside and we're out there shivering.  I, still in my work clothes and Noah in his pants and sweatshirt.  It felt like 20 minutes before he got a good breath but it was more like 20 seconds.  Still, those 20 seconds were the scariest seconds I've had.  I just held my son and prayed that his lungs would inflate, that he'd suck down some precious air.  When he took his first shaky breath, I almost fell over in relief.  We stayed outside for a minute or 2 longer then went back in to the warm house.  I immediately called the pediatrician's office and got Noah into see someone.  (Luckily our ped's office stays open late for emergent cases).  They gave him a steroid for croup and sent us home.  By tomorrow he'll be fine.

In all my life I have never dreamed I'd be standing outside in the freezing cold watching my son struggle for breath.  That helpless feeling is one I hope to never have again.  Watching a child hurt is the scariest thing; it is my biggest, most horrendous fear.

Observations while drugged up

I've been sick for the past few days.  Actually almost a week now.  I don't think I've been this sick since I was a kid, if even then!  The funny thing is that I'm probably in the best shape I've been in for years so why the heck is my immune system taking a nose dive?  Just to mess with me, I'm sure.  So I happened to have a doctor's appointment on Thursday for another random reason so I mentioned my racking cough and sleepless nights.  My doctor listened to my lungs while I had another coughing fit, then announced that I have bronchitis.  Lovely.  On a brighter note, I got me some drugs.  :)

I'm on a medley of medications to get the coughing and infection under control.  Meds mess with my head.  While I enjoy the feeling of breathing without pain, it's an odd feeling to feel disconnected from my body.  I imagine this is what it feels like to be high, but since I've never been...I digress.

I'm very fortunate to have a mother that lives close by.  When I mentioned that I was sicker than a dog and Hannah was starting to get sick to, she swooped in a snatched up Noah for the day.  Ahhh...it was lovely.  I could sleep and rest without a 2-year-old boy jumping up and down on my head.

I also made some weird observations.  I blame the medication for these.

• The kitchen is farther away from my bedroom than the North Pole is to the South.  I know because I measured it.  I swear it's farther.
• Why do drug companies make pills so large the only people that can swallow them are those with abnormally large throats?  And then just when you think you'll either cut it half or crush it, you see on the bottle written in bold type SWALLOW WHOLE, DO NOT CRUSH.  Why?  Is the drug less effective?  Will the drug police come crashing down my door and arrest me for disobeying the label?  
• Dogs are annoying to have plastered to your side while you're trying to get some rest.  As soon as I'd find a comfortable position, one where I could breathe without coughing, Bella would start moving around and mess up the covers.  Then she'd get comfortable but I wasn't.
• Bella's body temperature is approximately 250 degrees.  I'd finally fall asleep after hours of tossing and turning only to wake up sweating.  At first I thought maybe I was breaking a fever.  But no, it was the dog.  She was hotter than a furnace and smashed up against my body.  And if I try to move her away she'll just wiggle her way back over to me.  
• Makeup is overrated.  When I was feeling icky and pukey, the last thing I wanted to do was put on makeup, therefore going from looking like death to looking like a death with smokey eyes.  

I'm glad to say that I am now on the mend.  The antibiotics are finally taking effect and the cough medicine is working.  I'm still coughing and loopy but at least I'm not contagious.  :)

It's been a while...

I haven't posted anything for a while.  Why?  No good reason.  Just busy and tired.  Plus, now that we're in the swing of school, we're kinda in a routine and it's hard to get away from that.  By the time the kids are in bed for the night, the kitchen is cleaned up, Hannah's lunch is made for the next school day, dinner is prepped for the next day, the laundry is put away/put in washer/folded I'm tired!  It's all I can do to yank the contacts out of my eyes and brush my teeth before falling into bed.  But I love it.  Why?  Because I'm insane.

Nothing too exciting has been going on lately.  Normal "fall" stuff.  We bought a season pass to an apple orchard not far from here.  It was awesome.  At first I thought...apple orchard?  Season pass?  Really?  But the orchard is a small part of the farm.  They have lots of animals to view, a corn pool, giant jumping pillow, lots of little fun things for the kids to do.  I took the kids every Monday after school.  They had such a great time.  Of course, Noah would come home with a diaper full of corn, but oh well.  He washes well.  I'm bummed that it's now closed for the season.  Next year we're definitely doing it again.  The kids got worn out and I got to chit chat with my bestie, Laura.  Win/win!

I have discovered the Ankeny dog park.  It's not like it hasn't been there before now but I just never had a need to go there.  Bella LOVES it.  As soon as I pull into the parking lot she's up to the window whining to get out.  I have to wrestle her to stay on the leash until we get through the gate.  Then she's off!  I have never seen that dog run so fast!  She is built for speed so away she goes.  If there are other dogs there (which there typically is), she'll find ones that like to run too and they chase each other.  I'm amazed at the energy in that dog.  She'll run for 45 minutes straight until I tell her we need to go.  Then she trots back to the car before passing out in the backseat.  Once we get home, she's usually curled up in her bed for the rest of the day.

I'm thinking of finding a dog park for kids.  Noah needs somewhere to run off this energy.  Man, it'd be nice if he could run around for a few hours then come home and sleep.

When I get around to uploading pictures from the past few months, I'll post a few.  We've done a lot of 'family' type things this fall.  Lots of fall fun.  Sometimes the fun looks better on paper than in reality, but at least we were together as a family.  Joel and I may have wanted to strangle the kids by the time we left, but at least we had togetherness.

And isn't that the most important thing?  :)

Our Texas Vacation

Joel and I celebrated our 10-year anniversary on September 1st.  It's hard to believe that it's been 10 years since I walked down the aisle.  I was 21 at the time.  Now when I hear of 21-year-olds getting married I think "they're babies!!"  I wonder how many people thought that about us!

So we wanted to do something special for our anniversary.  We decided to take a week and go to Texas.  Why Texas?  Well for one, I have never been there (except to the Dallas airport, but I don't think that counts).  Secondly, we always wanted to visit South Padre.  Our kids are still young so we thought now would be a good time to go, when they could stay with grandma and not really realize we're gone.  Grandma did an awesome job getting Hannah to school everyday, packing a lunch, and watching a 2-year-old for a week!  Way to go, mom!

The first day we drove to Plano, Tx and spent the night there.  We actually went to movie!  It was awesome! The next day we drove to San Antonio to meet up with a few friends.  We had dinner with them and had a great time catching up and seeing their baby.  Weird that Joel and I were their youth leaders when they were in high school and now they're married with a baby.  Very weird.

We spent 2 days in San Antonio seeing the sights (we rented bikes one morning and rode around.  Very cool).  We loved the riverwalk!  It was absolutely beautiful, especially at night.  One night we went to a piano bar (our first time) and had the song "I will survive" dedicated to us.  Slightly awkward but very fun.

After San Antonio, we drove to South Padre Island.  There we stayed at a resort right on the beach.  Because we went on the "off season" there was hardly anyone there!  Seriously, there were times I wondered if we were the only ones at the resort.  We rode horses on the beach (I got thrown off my horse...horse got spooked, reared up, and I fell off.  I'm fine), took a dolphin-watching boat ride, and relaxed by the pool.  It was amazing.

Funny story...when driving at night around South Padre, be careful not to run over crabs.  They just cross the street right in front of you!  They look like really big spiders when they're in the headlights.  Kinda freaky.  And they make a big "crunch" when you run them over.  :)

The 2-day drive back to Iowa was brutal.  Very boring.  We spent the night in Dallas and went to another movie together.  2 movies in 1 week!  It was incredible!

Maybe for our 20-year-anniversary we'll actually watch 3 movies.  Whoa.

Us in San Antonio with out friends jumping into the picture.  Dorks.  

The riverwalk

You can't go to San Antonio and not at least LOOK at the Alamo.  We didn't go in, just took a picture.

Horses on the beach.  Notice my horse looks pissed.  I think this was right before he threw me off.  Dumb horse.  

Beautiful South Padre sunset

A dolphin.  They actually came right up to the boat but they were so fast you couldn't get a good picture of them!

For now...

I will write a longer post later, but for now...enjoy these random pictures of my kids.  They are adorable...most of the time!  :)

Hannah in her "nest" of towels at a hotel

Daddy and Noah looking lovingly at each other

Noah doing one of his favorite activities...wrestling!  

Going down the slide.  Happy girl!

First week of Kindergarten!

Hannah started kindergarten last week.  She's going to a public school here in Ankeny.  If you haven't read about our agonizing decision of where to send her for school, click here.

The night before her first day was rough for me.  I cried and worried that Hannah would be scared, she'd not eat her lunch, she'd have to go potty and not tell anyone...ya know, normal mom worries.  Joel quickly made fun of me reminded me that Hannah is perfectly safe at school and Kindergarten teachers love kids.  They've seen it all, done it all, dealt with it all.

So the first day of school came.  Her school day starts at 7:55am.  (Why the heck they don't just make it an even 8am, I have no clue!).  Joel told his work he'd be a little late so he could come with me to drop her off.  We got there about 7:45, along with about a thousand other kids and parents!  It was chaotic slightly insane.  After getting Hannah to her locker (yes, she has a locker in kindergarten!), we took her to her classroom.  Now at this point, it was madness in the hallways.  The kindergarten wing is wonderful in that it's just a hallway with the 5 class rooms right there.  There aren't a million older kids pushing and shoving their way through.  I think I would have gone all mama bear on some 5th grader if he had pushed my baby.

So we go to the classroom and of course, Hannah has to pee.  *sigh*  Luckily there's a bathroom right in the room (it's like the designers knew kindergartners pee a lot!).  After that was finished, she was thrilled to see her one friend in the class was there and saving a seat for her right next to him!  She was all shades of excited at that point.  We quickly said our goodbyes and off we went.  I stood at the door for a minute to make sure she didn't start crying.  Nope.  She was fine.  Really?  Is it too much to ask that my child be a little sad that she'd leaving mommy for an entire day/5 days a week!?

Noah had a rough time that first day.  He cried and cried wanting "hehe" to come back.  He kept grabbing my phone to look at the picture of Hannah I have as my wallpaper.  My poor baby.

So now Hannah's been in school for a week and a half.  There are some mornings she really doesn't want to go, but she's loving it.  She's so tired though!  Usually once a week, she goes to bed about a hour earlier than normal.  On the weekend, she needs a nap.  I'm amazed at how quickly she's learning.  Her teacher is amazing, making learning fun.  It's like she has a college degree in elementary ed or something.  Oh wait...she does.  :)

Zoo Pics

Since I couldn't upload pictures of the zoo the other day, here are some now.  Enjoy...

Noah and Hannah standing in front of the polar bear statue.  I don't know if the statue is true to size or not.  If it is...WOW!

These sheep LOVED to be petted.  They would follow us around the pen and nudge our hands to rub them some more.  It was super hot the day we were there so I bet the sheep were HOT

This particular sheep fell in love with Hannah.  He/she/it followed her around  for a long time.  

On the boat ride.  Noah was getting a little tired.

Introducing her stuffed lion, Midas to the real ones.  They were all sleeping but Hannah really tried to wake them up by yelling "HEY!  I brought your son, Midas home to you!"  It didn't work.

Noah had had enough!  Notice he has a PB&J sandwich in his hand.  He was too tired to finish it!

We had such a great time at the zoo.  If you ever go, I would highly suggest paying for the all-ride pass.  You get unlimited rides on the train, tram, boat, sky glider, and carousel.  It was well worth the money.  The zoo is pretty spread out so our kids would never have lasted as long as they did if they'd had to walk the whole thing!

Kansas City Vacation!

Last weekend we went on a short family vacation to Kansas City.  We wanted to do something with the kids before Hannah starts Kindergarten (sniff, sniff).  We left Friday morning and got to KC around 1-ish.  From there it was a whirlwind adventure.  Here are some highlights:

Our first stop was the Wonderscope Children's Museum.  It's in an old school so all the rooms are different activities.  It was small, but the kids LOVED it.  Noah especially loved the music room, probably because he could make lots of noise and be loud.  He's such a boy!

Hannah playing in the water room.  Noah's shirt is off because he REFUSED to wear the little smock.  Plus we were in MO, so why not fit in with the locals?  :)

Noah thought he could paint his own face

My little surgeons.

Noah painting his own face while I drew on Hannah's.

So then on Saturday we went to the Deanna Rose Children's Farmstead.  It was awesome!  It's free on the weekdays and just $2 per person on the weekends!  I was a little worried that it'd be some dump of a place with a sad, old pony giving rides.  I was very impressed with the farm!  It's huge!  There's fishing, feeding goats, petting lots of animals, a butterfly garden, tons of play equipment, and a bunch more that we didn't even get to!  You do have to pay to fish and feed the animals, but it's not too expensive.  We ended up staying there for several hours.  The only reason we left was because it was WAY past nap time and the kids were losing it.  Plus, Hannah had fished and the hook went through the fish's eye.  She was done after that.  (So was I since I had to put the worm on the hook and it was so gross!)

Hannah in her glory riding a horse.  The girl LOVES horses!

Noah in the one room school house.  There was a lady dressed up as the teacher who came over and helped him to erase and draw again.  

Feeding the baby goats.  Notice the bottle was on the ground.  I think the kids had given up wrestling with the goats.  They were fierce!

Fishing!  Hannah ended up catching 4 fish.  Luckily the "hook through the eye" situation didn't happen until the last worm.

Petting a duck

Grinding corn in an Indian hut

Petting the horse after our hay-ride.  

That night we went to a really fun restaurant in Crown Center.  It's called Fritz' Restaurant. One of my friends had recommended this restaurant as a fun place to go.  It was amazing!  Little trains bring your food out on an overhead rail then a little elevator lowers it to your table.  My kids thought it was the best thing in the world.  Plus there's a train in the wall that goes around and around.  Every time it went by, Noah would squeal.  We were there about an hour and my kids weren't bored at all!  The food isn't that great but the ambiance more than makes up for it.

If you look closely you can see the little red train on the rail.  It's what brings the food.

Our food being lowered

My little munchkins!

After eating, we went to a chocolate store where you can watch them make chocolate.  It was really fun to watch!  The kids LOVED eating a treat too.

Sunday was our last day in KC so we went to the zoo.  We had been warned that it's pretty spread out so take as many trains and trams as possible.  We took their advice and bought an all-day ride pass for unlimited train, tram, boat, sky glider, and carousel rides.  Man did that come in handy!  It was super hot and humid that day so we were drinking water by the gallon, then sweating it out!  We were really impressed with the zoo though.  It was a ton of fun and the kids loved it.

**For some reason my zoo pictures aren't loading to my blog so I'll have to post those later.  Needless to say, my kids are adorable and it was a blast!**  :)

I'm a K.L.U.T.Z.!!!

Seriously, I don't know what my problem is lately!  I've ran into way more things than normal.  Let me be clear...normal for me is tripping on my own feet at least 5 times a day.  It's also normal for me to trip on something directly in front of my feet, simply because I'm not paying attention.  This can be detrimental if the thing in front of me happens to be one of my children.  I've been known to knock them down.  Oops.  I'm not winning any mother of the year awards.  Darn.

So here's my Bamboo Story.  It's going down in infamy, I think...

I went to the Aveda Institute for a hair cut the other night.  Like most Aveda places, it's decorated very nicely with all sorts of "natural" stuff lying around.  Also, the clientele seems to be a little on the uppity side.  That's probably just my impression, but whatever.  It's my blog.

So after I checked in, I was told to take a seat.  I looked around for somewhere to go.  Unlike many salons, there isn't a waiting area in an Aveda salon.  There are a few stools scattered around the tables, ensuring you'll look at their merchandise.  And of course, those are all full.  So I see a bench over in the corner with just one guy sitting on it.  Now, the normal path to get to the bench was blocked by some kids playing grown up, so I had to cut around the make up counter then bypass a giant bamboo display to get to the bench.  No problem.  Like everyone else in the salon, I whip out my cell phone and start fiddling with it while I'm walking towards the bench.  I should have known better.  I need to focus all my attention on my feet while walking.  When will I learn.  So as I'm completely not looking where I'm going, it happens.  WHAM!

I've ran directly into the bamboo display.

Immediately I try to contain the damage by grabbing the bamboo poles, but of course that's a problem since I'm also holding my cell phone and purse.  So then it because a juggling game of wrestling the bamboo back into place, keep my purse on my shoulder and don't drop the cell phone!  Finally after what seems like 20 minutes (probably more like 30 seconds), I get everything back into place and try to nonchalantly sit down.  It was then that I realized that the entire front waiting area was staring at me.  Yep, I'm a klutz.

It doesn't end there.  Today was pretty bad too.  Here are all the things I ran into:

• copy machine
• wall
• door frame
• co-worker
• husband
• patient
• another patient
• another wall
• shopping cart
• chair
• child or 2

Seriously,  I should win an award for all that.  

Because Dr. Oz said so!

I have a love/hate relationship with Dr. Oz.  You know, that celebrity Hollywood doctor that got his big break by being on the Oprah show?  Kinda reminds me of Dr. Phil's start up too.

I love Dr. Oz because he brings light so medical issues that may otherwise go unvoiced.  For example, women's health.  I think women get scared to go to the doctor for something like a pelvic or breast exam.  He shows women that it's not such a big deal to go and some major problems can be diagnosed and treated quite simply.  For that, I think he's wonderful.

Here's why I hate him.  Because he sensationalizes everything!  I mean, seriously.  If I have a dollar for every time I scan a patient simply because "Dr. Oz said so"...well, I'd have several dollars.

Here's a few situations...

• a patient came in for a thyroid ultrasound.  The diagnosis was "nodule".  Now, before we all get excited, let me just say that almost everyone in the world has a thyroid nodule.  They're benign little growths on the thyroid.  I have 3 of them.  Not a big deal.  Unless they get large or your blood levels show a problem, we leave them alone.  So this patient comes in.  I ask her why we're doing the exam.  She starts off with "I was watching Dr. Oz...".  Right about then was when I rolled my eyes.  She continued to say that this particular episode of Dr. Oz was about thyroid disease and how it can be a silent disease.  He recommended that all viewers go to their doctors.  So she did, even though she had no symptoms of thyroid disease.  She insisted that a blood test and ultrasound be performed.  So they were.  And guess what?  I found a nodule.  Woo-hoo.  Her blood test was normal.  There was nothing wrong.  So how was that helpful for her?
• A patient came in for a pelvic ultrasound.  Guess how she responded when I asked why she was there?  Yep.  Because "Dr. Oz said so".  She had watched an episode about ovarian cancer.  So there she was, getting an ultrasound to look for ovarian cancer, even though her pelvic exam was normal and she had no family history of cancer.  
• The best was one I heard today.  My mom is a nurse in the GI department.  So she talks to patients when they call in with a problem.  Today she got her first "Dr. Oz call".  A patient had just watched a Dr. Oz episode about treating Crohn's disease with...parasites!  Seriously?  So guess how this patients wanted her Crohn's disease treated?  Yep, parasites.  My mom had to tell her that was not something these doctors were comfortable with doing and to contact a teaching hospital, like U of I.  Perhaps they knew more.  

Now, I do believe that Dr. Oz has some good topics.  But let's remember.  He's a talk show host.  He's also a Hollywood doctor.  Would he be a Hollywood talk show host if he talked about yeast infections and heavy periods?  With the rise in health care costs, do we really need to rush to the doctor simply because "Dr. Oz said so"?  

Remember the time...

Whenever I get together with my family, it seems like someone starts reminiscing about something or other.  Lately it's been hotter here than the surface of the sun so that starts me thinking about when I was a kid and it was hot.  I'm pretty sure it was never this hot out.  My mom would disagree but what does she know?  :)

I know when I was a kid, there was no sitting in the A/C watching movies and TV all day.  My mom would have had an aneurysm.  She surely kicked us out and told us to get some exercise.  *Side note: back then you could be gone for hours on end and no one thought a thing about it.  Now you'd be arrested for child endangerment or something.*  But I digress...

One thing we loved to do on a hot summer day was ride our go-kart.  Yes, a go-kart.  We lived on a big acreage to we had the space to ride around.  It wasn't like we were popping wheelies in the driveway.  Nope, this was hard-core, all-out go-karting!  Seriously, lives were at stake here!  We would race as fast as we possibly could, never thinking about things being in our way, like trees, the well, or our siblings.  Nope, it just didn't occur to us that there could possibly be a hazard in our path.  Our back acre was nothing but prairie grass so one day, my dad took out the old Snapper riding lawn mower and made us a go-kart path through the prairie grass.  This wasn't some boring straight line.  No way, this was a seriously loopy path.  There was a short path and a long one that looped together and connected.  It was a masterpiece.

So on the hot days, we'd go outside, start up the go-kart and ride like the wind.  My sister would ride with a big smile on her face and her mop of frizzy blond hair flapping in the breeze.  (yes Salli, it was frizzy.  Hello!  It was the 80's...practically a compliment)  My brother would go as fast as he possibly could with his mouth wide open.  (I have always been curious how many bugs went straight down his throat).  I was always last to go (curse of the 3rd child), and I'm sure I had a look of complete shock that it was finally my turn and there was actually still gas in the thing.  I was always scared to go through the prairie grass though.  You never knew when you might come across a spider web hanging across with a big old garden spider planted right in your path.  Yep, it happened to me once or twice.  Perhaps that's why I hate spiders so much now...

Anyway, so as these days are super hot and humid, I long for our go-kart.  Although if I were to get on one today I'd want a thicker seat.  Man, my butt hurt after riding!  Oh, and better shocks.  Nothing like getting your innerds good and jostled.  While we're at it, make the seat go back a bit.  I could have flossed my teeth with my knees.  Oh, and really...what was up with the noise?  Could it not have been a tad quieter?

Ok so maybe I don't really want a go-kart, I want a Land Rover.  :)

Public vs. Private

Hannah is starting Kindergarten this year.  Many moms freak out when this happens.  It's like the child finished preschool, goes through the summer, yet somehow the idea of kindergarten is completely foreign to the parents.  Hello!  It's kindergarten.  No big?  Right?

I was doing really well with the whole 'sending my child off to school' thing.  I mean, she went to preschool 3 mornings a week last year and did fine.  She loved it.  So I felt completely prepared for sending Hannah off to all day/every day kindergarten.  Then we got an e-mail...

It was from the school district informing us (well, all parents really) that we could now go on-line and register our child for hot lunches, pay fees, etc...I freaked.  I mean hard-core, panic attack freak out.  It wasn't just that Hannah was going to eat a hot lunch every day.  It's the fact that as a 5-year-old she has to remember her PIN.  Really?  She's 5!  I'm lucky if she remembers to brush her teeth and put on clean underwear every day.  Left to rely on her memory and she'll be starving every day.  So I freaked. And freaked some more.  I cried and wailed a bit about my poor little baby going off to a big public school.  She's going to be made fun of, get scared, forget her PIN, forget where she, forget her name, forget me...the list went on.

I mean it's kindergarten!  K.I.N.D.E.R.G.A.R.T.E.N!  Practically a military school for babies!

It got so bad that I begged my parents to help pay for Hannah to go to a private school.  They agreed.  Of course, the fact that I was crying as I asked them probably helped my plea.  So then we started the enrollment process at one of the area private schools.  There were 2 we were choosing between.  But neither of them "felt" right.  One had awesome after school care, the other didn't have it at all.  But the one without after school care had a better curriculum with more opportunities for kids.  We were torn. Plus, one was here in Ankeny, the other in the ghetto.  And of course the ghetto one was a better school, in my opinion.  SO what to do.  We prayed, of course but there wasn't any magical solution.

I turned to facebook.  Surely someone out there would have some awesome advice for me.  Uh...I think I started a facebook fight.  There are some seriously passionate people out there!  I heard all sorts of horror stories about kids in both public and private school.  So ok, that didn't help.  I was about to freak out all over again when I got a phone call.

It was from the principal at her public elementary school.  He was calling all the parents of kindergartners to let them know something about the school.  Because Ankeny has grown a TON in the past year, there are more kindergartners than allowed.  They can hold 25 students per class, with 5 classes.  So 125 students.  They have a lot more than that enrolled.  As I was sitting there thinking "well, I guess private school it is", he said he was giving me a choice.  I could keep her enrolled in the current school or send her to a different elementary school in Ankeny.  Huh?  Come again?  The school she would then be going to would have no more than 25 kids in the class, it's actually closer to us, and we have a friend who would pick up Hannah after school on the days I work and watch her until I could pick her up.  There's a new elementary school being built right now so next year Hannah will be going to that one anyway.  No biggy if she goes to one school this year and another one next year.  A lot of kids are going to be doing that.  Huh.  What's that God?  You're telling us something here?

So the decision was made.  Hannah will be going to Crocker Elementary school in Ankeny in just a few weeks.  I'm still a tad freaked out, but I'm hearing this is a normal thing for moms.  Luckily I have some amazing neighbors that have held my hand and told me to calm down.  I need that most some days.  My little girl is growing up!

Stupid cars...

I hate cars.  I hate that we have to rely on them for transportation.  I hate that every 3-5,000 miles we have to take them in to get the oil changed.  And gas prices?  Seriously.  It's more than my feeble mind can handle. 

Just last year we upgraded from a Taurus to a mini-van.  It was delightful.  The space, the sliding doors, the sun roof.  Ahhh...bliss.  We promised to always keep it clean.  Well, apparently the kids didn't get that memo as daily I find sippy cups (please, not milk!), toys and crumbs galore.  At least the outside still looks nice. 

Joel's car is a piece of c.r.a.p.  We knew this.  We've known this for a while.  It's a 1998 Ford Contour with 147,000 miles on it.  We got it right after we got married in 2001 when both of our cars bit the dust and we needed to replace them.  The contour was a mere 3 years old with only 22,000 miles on it.  Boy have we gotten our money's worth out of that thing.  But it's been showing it's age recently.  The headlights are very dim, like they're tired.  No amount of cleaner or new light bulbs would wake them up.  The interior light rarely works.  The trunk release buttons works on occasion.  More times than not, you have to actually turn off the car and use the key to open the trunk.  One of the door rubber things keeps falling down.  But, there was barely a spot of rust on it and it still ran...until recently.

Dum, dum, dddduuuummmm....

I bought 2 of those Groupon coupon things a few months back for a Car-X deal.  Get an oil change and 41-point inspection for dirt cheap.  So I figured the next time our cars needed an oil change, we'd just take them there.  Good deal.  The van was fine.  A few minor maintenence deals but nothing earth shattering.  Then the contour's turn.  Seriously it's like when you take your child to the dentist.  You know you've done everything right.  Brushing and flossing, avoid sugary things.  Still,  you wait with baited breath while the dentist pokes and prods, hoping no cavities are found. 

Cavities were found in the contour.  BIG cavities!  Big, Expensive Cavities!! 

As the mechanic listed off all the things wrong with the car and all it would cost, Joel and I just stared silently.  Huh.  So what to do?  The car isn't worth that much.  We've been saving for a new one but aren't "there" yet.  Cars never seem to die when you want them to!  Nope, they wait until you're thinking of going on vacation or buying a new outfit.  Then BAM!  Dead.  Stupid cars.  So now what? 

Do what anyone does when a dentist tells you every tooth in your mouth needs to be yanked!  Get a 2nd opinion! 

So that's what we did.  We took our baby car to our mechanic.  He called us with the news.  Not only did he confirm everything Car-X found, but he also found more wrong with the car.  And that was just the beginning!  The damage to the engine was so extensive that it was possible we could fix everything he listed then be back in a month to fix more.

Decision made.  Sorry contour, your days as a Jernstad are over.

So the search begins...

Poor Joel

If you were to spend any length of time with my family, at some point someone would made the comment "Poor Joel".  It has become a family joke.  And yes, it has to do with my husband, Joel.  

Here's the scoop...

Several years ago my grandma Cowell was diagnosed with Alzheimer's.  She happened to live in a nursing home in West Des Moines, which made it easier for her family (us) to visit her.  My grandma Cowell was a wonderful, fun lady.  I always stayed at her house for one week every summer.  It was a time for just grandma and me.  Seeing her reduced to a dying woman who couldn't even remember her own name was heartbreaking.  Needless to say, it was hard to visit her.  One day my whole family went to say "HI!".  Nothing like being bombarded with a group of smiling giants when you don't know who or where you are!  

By this time grandma was bedridden.  We all filed into her room and formed a semi-circle around her bed.  Then, with smiles plastered on our faces, we willed grandma to remember who we were.  Sadly, she did not.  My mom went around the circle saying our names and how we were related to her, hoping for a response from grandma.  Here was Larry, grandma's son (and my dad).  Nothing.  Next was Salli, Larry's daughter (my sister).  Still nothing.  Then Aaron, Salli's husband.  Nada.  Down the line we went.  Finally it was my turn.  My mom "introduced" me and I smiled at grandma.  Nope, no recognition.  Then Joel was introduced as my husband.  An amazing thing happened.  Grandma's eyes lit up like she had just seen an angel! And here's how the conversation went down...

Mom:  "Do you know who this is?"

Grandma: "Oh yes!  It's Joel!"

Mom (said with glee):  "Yes, it's Joel.  He's Sara's husband."

Grandma (with a concerned look):  "Joel.  Poor Joel"

Mom:  "uh...."

Grandma Cowell didn't live much longer.  But she will remembered forever for many reasons; one of which is that, in a moment of clarity, she remembered Joel...and felt bad for him. 

A crack in the bone

I've been doing quite well with the running this spring.  I was faithful at getting outside and running a few miles 4-5 times per week.  Some days I only went 2 miles, others I ran longer.  And then I'd also go to the Y for strength training and other classes.  I was starting to feel my ab muscles come out of the fridge!  Yea for me!

So then a few weeks ago I decided to run pretty late at night.  I hate running after eating but I really felt like I needed to.  So off I went.  I figured if I started to feel sick, I'd just walk.  No big.  I pushed myself and ran 2 miles, even feeling a little 'off'.  The next morning was a Monday, my day off.  I got up, got the kids ready, and went off to the Y like normal.  I noticed that my right foot hurt a little but figured it was fine, maybe a strained muscle or something.  Later that day I happened to have a doctor's appointment.  By then I had changed out of my tennis shoes and into flip flops.  As I glanced down at my foot, I realized my right foot was super swollen.  Oh crap.  

Off the doctor I went and mentioned that my foot was enormous a tad swollen.  She pushed on a few spots and I almost jumped off the chair.  Not good.  So she sent me for an x-ray.  Working in radiology gets me some perks.  I had the x-ray then walked into the reading room and made the radiologist look at it right away.  The x-ray was normal.  No broken bones.  Then he told me stress fractures don't show up on x-rays right away.  They take a few weeks to show up.  Well, that's just dumb.  I figured I'd wait a few weeks and see how my foot responded to Aleve.  It didn't.  It was still super swollen and painful.  So painful that I had to be put on Vicodin just to get through the day. My doctor felt that seeing a foot surgeon was a good idea.  

So off the foot surgeon I went.  I really thought he's push on my foot and say it was a tendon or muscle issue, get some physical therapy and time.  I was prepared for that.  What I was NOT prepared for was for him to push on a few spots on my foot and announce that I have a stress fracture in 2 places.  As if that wasn't bad enough, I get the pleasure of wearing a boot for the next 6 weeks.  Oh, and no exercising whatsoever.  Shut. The. Front. Door.  I asked him what he meant by "no exercising".  He literally means NOTHING.  No elliptical, no running (well duh), no biking, no classes.  So what can I do?  I can ride a stationery bike at a slow pace or walk slowly.  Are you kidding me?  And the 2 races I'm signed up to do in a few weeks.  Nope.  Not so much.  Oh, and I'm not supposed to drive either.  Joel's response to that?  He's not driving me around like Miss Daisy.  :)  I've gotten around that by taking off the boot to drive.  

The only good thing about the boot?  At least it's not a cast.  :)

Some days...

• I want to strangle my dog for pooping in the house.
• I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs.
• I want to go somewhere by myself and just listen to nature.
• I want to tell my kids that whining/complaining/being fussy is going to put mommy in an early grave.
• I want to strangle my husband for various reasons.
• I want ask all my patients that show up late for their appointment what was so important that they needed to waste my time.
• I want to ask the Title XIX patients how they can afford a better phone/purse/clothes than me.
• I want to clean my entire house from top to bottom then take pictures for memories' sake.
• I want to hug my kids the entire day.
• I want to eat an entire pizza and big vat of ice cream without gaining an ounce.
• I want to spend time with my best friend, and only my best friend.

I have many good days, some bad days, and a few really bad days.  No matter what happens, I love that I have a family who loves me, friends who like me, and a dog who tolerates me.  Life is good :)

The new addition...

We have a dog.  Yes, you read correctly...a DOG!  For the past few years we've known we would eventually get one but my standard answer was always "when Noah is older".  So did Noah miraculously potty train himself and both kids become independent?  Nope, not even a little.  However, my sister and her family got a dog so...we needed to one up them :)  They got a beautiful golden retriever for free.  We paid for our dog, however she came with training from a prison.  Who wins for coolest story??  US!  Boo-ya.  Go Team Jernstad!

So about the dog.  Her name is Bella.  She's a terrier mix of some sort.  (Read: Mutt)  She's 16 months old but she still kinda looks like a puppy (see pics below and you'll understand what I mean!).  She's a "medium" size dog, so about 40 lbs or so.  We researched dogs forEVER and came across Bella while looking at websites for area shelters.  She was at a county shelter in Newton.  So off we went to look at her.  We immediately fell in love.  She was great with the kids, excited to have human interaction but calmed down very quickly.  The shelter people told us she needed to complete her prison training.  Shut. The. Front. Door.  What?  Did she commit a crime?  Will she be out on probation?  Apparently at this particular shelter, dogs go through obedience training at the state prison.  The inmates train the dogs in basic commands and work with them to break bad behaviors that may prevent them from being adopted.  The shelter told us that Bella had just started her 4-week stint but if we wanted her to skip the training, we could take her home right then.  We opted to let her do it.

So fast forward to this past weekend when we were able to pick her up from the shelter.  My kids were thrilled out of their minds.  We have spent the past few days running around outside with her, cuddling on the couch, and taking walks.  Well, let's be honest...it's more like a crawl.  My kids aren't exactly fast walkers.  Add a leash in there and we're tripping on each other.  Joel has taken Bella on a few runs, which they LOVE.  By the end of the day Bella is wiped out.  Good thing she's still young.  :)

She's so eager to show her skill of sitting.

Sniffing Noah's hand.  She probably licked his hand the next second.  

You can kinda tell how big she is.  Sorta.

See what I mean about the puppy face?  I mean, seriously.  How could you not love this face??

More Ponderings...

Today was one of those days that self-introspection was needed.  We had a busy, busy weekend so my kids were off the wall crazy.  Luckily, Mondays are my Yoga day at the Y so it was nice to have peace and quiet, even for just an hour!

I always feel a little stupid while doing Yoga.  I've only done it a few times so I'm sure I look pathetic, but besides that, I'm not really into the whole "balanced aura" thing.  Still, Yoga does really force you to think about your life.

So as I pondered things, I started thinking about friendship.  What makes a friend?  Is it being the same age/gender/marital status?  For some that's all it takes.  For others, they yearn for something deeper than just the superficial statuses.  In grade school all it took to find a best friend was sharing the same toys.  In Jr. High, it was mutual hatred for something.  Be it boys, a certain girl, parents, life.  Jr. High was always awkward.  Then in high school, friends were made by liking the same activities.  You're a band geek?  Me too!  Let's be friends.  At graduation you'd swear you'd always keep in touch, but reality sets in.  Now looking back, I'm only close friends with one girl from high school.

Now in my 30's, friendships are made a little differently.  It seems that I'm drawn to those women who are in the same life position as me.  Married with children, have a career (even if it's a staying home with the kids), active, likes to goof off and have fun.  You'd think that'd be easy.  Nope.  It's amazing how much harder it is to make friends in my 30's!  I thought I'd join the church play group.  Nope, meets on a day I work.  So I thought I'd go to a women's retreat.  Couldn't do it.  I'm not into the whole "let's hold hands and rejoice that we're women" thing.  The only girl I want to hold hands with is my daughter.  After that, it's just weird.

So as I pondered while in the downward dog pose, I thought of all the friendships I've had over the years.  It took me a minute, not because I've had that many good friendships, but because I never think well with my butt up in the air.  Once we moved onto a different pose, the pondering commenced.

I'm in a stage in my life where friendship is more important to me than it ever has been.  My stress level has skyrocketed over the past few months.  Joel can only listen to me vent for so long before he starts to get that glazed over look.  We all need girlfriends who can understand how frustrating it is to work out constantly and not lose weight.  Or make an awesome dinner, only to have your 5-year-old gag while eating it (that happened tonight!).  And who doesn't want to share the awesomeness of pedicures with a close friend?  It's always nice to have someone with you when you can't understand the technician.  Between the 2 of you, surely you can translate.  :)

As my Yoga class came to an end, I thought to myself, it's time to work on the friendships I have and appreciate those who make me who I am.

And I also need to work on my Yoga poses.  I look ridiculous.

You're standing on Jesus!

Joel has an enormous family.  He's 1 of 6 kids, and the only boy.  You can imagine how awesome it was to be the only girl marrying into that family.  Truly, his family is great though.  His family is also quite fertile.  Three of his sisters have 5 kids each.  Some quick math and you can see that's already 15 grandkids for his parents.  Add in our 2, plus another 2 and you get...19 grandkids.  Yep, fertile bunch.

So his family likes to get together for every most birthdays for the 19 grandkids.  The problem is that no one has a house big enough to hold everyone.  Our house is the largest and that's just sad.  Still, we all pile on top of each other to have family togetherness time.  It's exhausting stressful suffocating wonderful.  :)

Last night happened to be one of those birthday party get togethers.  It was for Joel's nephew, Nathan's 14th birthday.  Nathan's mom (Joel's sister), Annette and family live in BFE the Indianola area on a big huge acreage so there's a ton of land, but a small-ish house.  As usual, we all crammed in there, hoping everyone had showered recently.  I'm glad to say no one smelled.  Yea for us...and soap.

Because they have so much land, and it was the day before Easter, it was decided to have an Easter egg hunt.  One of Joel's many sisters went out to hide the eggs while Joel and I entertained the kids inside.  Instead of being enthralled by Joel and my skills, the kids just wanted to crowd around the front door waiting for the signal that the hunt to begin.  This of course meant that all the kids were falling and stepping all over each other.  At some point in all the raucous we heard a little voice scream, "NATHAN!  You're stepping on Jesus!"

After a moment of silence we realized that a Easter decoration showing Jesus rising from the dead had fallen off the front door and Nathan was stepping directly on Jesus' face.

Oops.

After saving Jesus from Nathan's shoe print, the hunt commenced and all was well.  Next year perhaps we'll put away the Jesus decorations before the kids take over the place.  Did I mention there are 19 of them?

Happy Easter all!

Easter Goats

I know that most people think of bunnies when they think of Easter.  I don't have any stories about bunnies, although we did have 2 for a short time.  They just sat in their cage and pooped...a lot.  It was always gross to clean out their cages.  Perhaps that's why we only had them for such a short time.

However, I have a story about goats.  As in...when I was growing up, we raised goats.

Yep, sure did.  I can't remember when we got our first goat.  I just remember having them.  Now before you think I grew up somewhere in Podunk country, let me just say that we only had the goats in the summer.  One of the men in our church was a farmer.  He always had baby goats that needed to be fed and cared for.  Apparently goats are born in the spring?  That may not be true.  I'm going with it though.

So as soon as school was out for the summer, the goats would arrive.  I can't remember how many we had, maybe 4?  We had a pen in our back yard.  Oh yes, the goat pen.  We lived on an acreage so we had plenty of space for a pen.  It was a pretty big area, fenced in and even complete with a little house for them.  So we had goats.  Because they were baby goats, they had to be bottle fed.  Remember those old Pepsi bottles?  Ya know, the big glass ones?  They aren't made anymore.  Something about the environment, although HELLO!  We were reusing them!  We were being "green" before there was an app for that.  But I digress...so each morning we'd get up, make a bottle up for the goats and go feed them.  Their milk was made from powdered milk.  I'm sure there was something else in there too but I was like 8 when this was going on.  My memory is only so good!  We'd have to attach a nipple on to the bottle and off we went.  At the time I never really thought of how large that nipple was.  Now I think, DANG!  Those suckers were huge!  The goats would gulp down that milk like they were starving.  I remember my sister and I going out to feed the goats.  For some reason we got such pleasure out of feeding them.

I've been asked why in the world we had goats.  Honestly, I have no blessed idea.  I'm sure our parents wanted us to learn about livestock or something.  Maybe be comfortable around animals??  Whatever the reason, we raised goats every summer.  We never thought that was odd.  It just...was.  Now I look back and think...huh.  We raised goats.  And fed them milk from Pepsi bottles with HUGE nipples attached.  Perhaps that is a tad...odd.

Split Pants and a Pine Tree

There has been many times over the past several years that, upon hearing the Cowell Family Kickball stories, there has been desire to join our family in our activities.  After reading this story, you may rethink that decision...

A few years ago my cousin Mike was getting married.  His fiancée-now-wife, Sandy had been a part of the Cowell Kickball Extravaganza a time or two before but I don't know that she fully comprehended the seriousness that is kickball.  Being the Cowells and the fact we do almost everything together, we decided to throw Mike and Sandy a couple's wedding shower.  For those who don't know what that is, it's basically the same as a bridal shower only men come too...and the gifts are mostly "home-ish".

So on this particular day, Sandy's mom, dad, and brother came down for the shower.  We had food and gift opening, a few cheesy games...blah, blah, blah.  And then the real fun began...KICKBALL!!!

Now the Cowells don't wimp out on kickball.  We've been known to have instant replay (Aunt Faye video tapes then we play back if there's a questionable call), the National Anthem is sang (Salli and I have a fabulous rendition we like to display), and lines are either spray painted or mowed.  Oh, and we have an electric scoreboard too.  Yep, we're hardcore.

So out we went to Uncle Don's backyard.  We figured out the teams, rules, and prepared to play.  But before all festivities could begin, Salli and I lead the group in a singing of the National Anthem.  Probably the funniest part of that was later while viewing a picture of it, Shawn had his hand over his heart.  Rumor has it, although not confirmed that Sandy's dad did the same.  We are nothing if not patriotic.  :)

The game began and was off with a bang.  At some point I was up to kick.  I'm really thinking Salli was all-time pitcher because she was uber pregnant with Natalie.  I kicked the ball and ran like the wind.  Nearing first base, I could see that the ball was being thrown towards me to get an out.  Well that just isn't acceptable.  I tried to run faster but there was a problem.  The grass was wet.  Therefore when I increasing my foot speed, all I ended up doing to sliding.  One foot went forward, the other backwards.  Now while you ponder how this looks, let me help you out.  I did the splits.  I've never before in my life done the splits.  My legs just don't go that way.  They did this day though.  I heard a ripping sound and truly though I had ripped something vital.  But as I stood up and took a look, I had ripped a hole in my pants.  In the crotch of my pants.  Classy.  However, I was safe on base!

Soon after the crotch ripping experience, I was in the fielding position.  Someone, can't remember who kicked a ball right over my head.  I went running backwards/sideways for it.  As my hands closed over that ball, I ran smack into a pine tree. I didn't just gently brush against the thing.  Nope, I annihilated it.  I was completely and totally inside the tree!  So now besides a rip in my crotch, I also had pine needles in my hair and scratches on my face from the tree.  One would think that after a head-on collision like that, concerned family members would run over to make sure I hadn't done permanent damage.  Yes, those questions were asked.  But only after it was determined I had indeed caught the ball.  Only after I had exited the tree, wiping the blood and pine needles from my face with one hand and holding the ball in the other.  Even then there was much discussion about whether or not the tree counted as the ball hitting the ground prior to being caught since, of course the tree is attached to the ground.  Then I was asked if I was ok.  I'm pretty sure by now Sandy's parents are totally thinking I am we are the most neurotic family in the world and why would Sandy want to be in it!  Can't say I blame them.  Mike's cousin (me) looked like I had been in a bar fight.

By the end of the day Sandy's family must have figured out we're not that bad because they still let her marry Mike.

Todd the Dog

When I was a kid, we always had dogs.  Living out in the country, we went through dogs fairly quickly.  Either our dog would get hit by a car (most common) or picked off by a hawk.  Ok, the hawk thing never happened but I always wondered if it would...

We had St. Bernard, schnauzers, poodles, terriers, mutts, not all at the same time, but over the years that's what we had.  When I was in Jr. High (I'm guessing about 13), we needed another dog.  The last one had died of something or other.  My brother really wanted a dachshund.  I think he just liked that he could call it a "wiener dog".  What is it with boys and the word "wiener"???  Crazy.  Anyway, my mom found a listing in the paper for a dachshund and it became ours.  His name, Shiloh's Hot Toddy.  Dumb, but we shortened it to Todd.  Over the years, Todd became my dog.  He slept with me, came to me whenever I called, followed me.  He was mine.  Of course, Todd was also the biggest annoyance ever!  He barked at absolutely everything.  If a leaf blew, he barked.  If someone sneezed, he barked.

As I went through high school, Todd became more and more annoying.  He'd bark in his sleep!  We joked that of all the dogs we'd had die over the years, Todd was the one that wouldn't die!!  By the time I left for college, he was getting up there in age.  I think he was 13?  In doggy years that's pretty old!  I went to college in Ohio for a year and of course, Todd stayed behind.  In October of that year, I remember my mom calling me to break the news that Todd had to be put down.  After I left he got sicker and sicker.  He was starting to have kidney problems and the vet was recommending all sorts of medication.  My parents are good people but a dog is a dog.  They're not going to spend hundreds of dollars on a dog.  So my mom told me Todd had been put to sleep.  Of course I was sad for a time but what can you do?  He was old.  Dogs get sick and die.  It was bound to happen sometime.

Fast forward to a few years ago.  My family was having a big get-together.  The Cowell family tends to get loud and boisterous at our functions.  We are super competitive to we'll play kickball, Catch Phrase, Rock Band, whatever we can do to challenge each other.  For some reason on this day, we started talking about dogs.  By this time, I had been married for years.  Salli and her husband were there.  Shawn and his wife was there too.  My cousins were there.  We all had stories to tell.  Most recently Salli had had to put a dog down.  But Salli being the big softy that she is didn't want her dog to suffer.  She was fearful that the dog would feel the needle go in his paw and be in pain, even though 10 seconds later he'd be dead.  Still, those 10 seconds shouldn't hurt, right?  So she did what any loving pet owner would do.  She had a friend take the dog into the woods and shoot it in the head.  Problem solved.  No pain, no suffering.  Just BAM!  Dead.

As we were all laughing at how bizarre this story was, my uncle asked "isn't that how Todd died?"

You could hear a pin drop.

WHAT?????!!!!!


Slowly all heads turned toward me.  I'm pretty sure my face had drained of blood because I remember seeing mouths moving but no sound was entering my head.  MY DOG HAD BEEN SHOT IN THE HEAD???  As I stared at my uncle, his reply had lost most of it's gusto.  He said "uh, you didn't know that?"  Nope!  Sure didn't!  My mom was quick to jump in and explain that yes, Todd was sick.  He wasn't going to live too much longer anyway and they were about to leave for Europe for a few weeks.  Who would watch Todd?  It was doubtful he'd make it to Christmas and why spend the money on a kennel when he was just going to die?  It was a mercy killing.  Truly...really...a mercy killing.

Somehow I was able to see their point.  Todd was old.  He wasn't going to last forever.  The fact that my family kept it a secret from me for almost 10 years was quite surprising.

And that is how Todd the dog shall always be remembered.  He just wouldn't die...until he was shot in the head with a .22

My hatred of Strawberry Shortcake

When I was younger, I shared a bed with my big sister Salli.  It was a double bed and since we were all of 5 and 7-years-old, the bed was plenty big for the two of us.  Many nights Salli and I would snuggle under our Strawberry Shortcake canopy bed and fall asleep.  Everything in our room as Strawberry Shortcake.  The bedding, the curtains, even the garbage can.  We loved Strawberry Shortcake with her pretty red curls and big smile.  And she loved us too, we just knew it!

One night Salli didn't feel so well.  Our mom took her temperature, gave her some medicine and sent her to bed.  I crawled into bed with her and promptly fell asleep, dreaming of strawberries and shortcake.  Later that night Salli woke up.  She knew she was going to be sick.  She must have wanted to leave everyone else sleeping so she figured she'd just roll over and throw up.  Quite logical to a 7-year-old.  In her feverish delirium, she failed to realize which side was what.  Out came the barf...right on my head.  Yep, my wonderful sister threw up on top of me then immediately rolled over and fell back to sleep.  My mother heard the retching and came running into our room.  Imagine her dismay when Salli is fast asleep and I'm covered in vomit.  So in the middle of night, I had to have a bath and the sheets needed to be changed.  Suddenly Strawberry Shortcake didn't look so great.  Every time I looked at her, visions of vomit came rushing back.  I was scarred.  

And that's how I ended up with vomit in my hair and my hatred of all things Strawberry Shortcake.  

Things that make me go "huh"....

SO I was thinking the other day of all the weirdness in the world.  There are all sorts of oddities that just make me curious.  Who thought these things up?  Who thought it was a good idea?  Why is this taking up my time?

Here is a sampling:
1.  Why is it a crime to impersonate an officer or a doctor but not to impersonate a decorated war veteran?  If I pretend to be a doctor I could be arrested.  If I pretend that I was in a war and won all sorts of awards, I'm protected by the 1st amendment.  Really?

2.  Why do some mothers talk to their child like they're idiots?  Seriously, do you think the baby is going to understand "goo goo ga ga" any more than they understand the dictionary?  They are babies.  Let them grow up a bit before they realize they've been birthed by a moron.

3.  Cloth Diapers.  Who in the world thought this was a good idea?  Now I realize that years ago, this was the only option.  Mr. Huggy and Mr. Pamper hadn't yet invented their diapers.  Still, in this day and age, cloth diapers?  What in the world?  I understand the whole "global warming" thing, I really do.  Here's my problem with cloth diapers.  You have to wash them!  Pee and poop filled grossness mixed in with my towels?  All I can think of is poopy and pee-y water swishing around spreading the nastiness to all other clothes in the machine.  I realize you could wash these by themselves.  Well, then I'd be thinking of the leftover particles stuck in there.  Kinda like when someone leaves a present in the toilet and it's all disintegrated and gross.  Not planning on washing my clothes in that water.  Ewww.  Almost everyone I know who has used cloth diapers quickly switch to disposable.  When my brother used them on his child, he said they had to scrape the poop off in the toilet before washing the diapers.  Excuse me?  Scrape the poop off?????  That's just wrong.

4.  *I'm going to get on a Medicaid rant for a moment*  Why is it that some people on Medicaid have a sense of entitlement?  I mean really, you can't afford your own healthcare, your own food, your own gas but I'm supposed to pay for you to have fake nails and a really nice cell phone?  I get so irritated when a patient walks in with Medicaid insurance, flashing her fake nails, pulling out her Blackberry, acting like I'm a huge nuisance to her, then after the exam asking if I'll sign her gas voucher so she can be reimbursed for mileage.  Really?  How about you don't get your nails filled this week.  Then you could afford gas.

5.  Dr. Oz.  I love how he gives an incredibly vague symptom then says anyone experiencing this may have cancer, or a heart condition, or gangrene.  What in the world?  You have a hangnail?  Quick, go to your doctor because you may have necrotizing fasciitis.  Bloated?  It's ovarian cancer.   It's amazing that one man with MD after his name can diagnose the entire world without ever evaluating a patient.  Equally amazing is that doctors will order an exam for a patient simply because the patient complains that "Dr. Oz told me to go to my doctor".  Wow.  Makes me wonder what else you'd do just because Dr. Oz says so.

Ok, I'll get off my soap box.  Don't send me hate mail.  These are just my opinions of things that just boggle my mind.  If you feel differently, fine.  Write you own blog :)