Daily Archives : Page 75 of 110 : Fluid Pudding

My right now might be different than your right now.

On Friday afternoon, Harper came home sick with a fever of 103.3.

On Saturday, we took her to the emergency room, where her temperature was so high that they “lacked the equipment to measure it.” In an ER. Their thermometers go up to 104.8, and she blasted through that in seconds. Twice.

When the nurse went to the desk and told the other nurses how she had never seen THAT before, one of the other nurses said, “She needs meds RIGHT NOW.” They continued to talk about how she needs meds RIGHT NOW. Talk, talk, talk. RIGHT NOW. Nearly fifteen minutes passed before she was given anything. (I know it takes a while to get medication at a hospital. I know everything has to be approved and measured. BUT, when you’re me and you’re listening to people raise their voices about the importance of immediate medication, yet no one is actually moving? And your kid is all high-energy and cooking from the inside out? Yep. That’s hard.)

I won’t bore you with details. Just know that we were released two hours later with a laugh and a big “All that for NOTHING, huh?!” as Jeff signed the credit card statement and Harper finished her popsicle. (We weren’t the ones laughing.) Actually, we left the hospital not knowing what her temperature was. We knew that sixty minutes after taking the Tylenol (the same kind we have at home, but with a dash of Fabergé egg extract for added $$$), she was down to 103. (I had to ask them to take her temperature an hour after the meds were given, and they seemed a little upset that I asked.) They didn’t take a temperature at the time of discharge.

We were there at the change of shift. Bad timing. I heard two separate nurses talk about parties for which they were running late. I also heard our admitting nurse when she stepped into our room and gave Harper an enthusiastic, “Hey, Sophie! How are you feeling?” (There were three other patients in the triage area. Apparently, one of them was named Sophie.)

Harper wasn’t feeling like a Sophie. And that’s good, because Sophie was actually puking with a fever. (Nathan sprained something while playing hockey. HIPAA what?)

(Please know that I know how stressful it is to work with parents like me who are nervous and rattled. I’m trying hard to not be a total jerk about the whole thing. I experienced only one side of the story! Joy to the World!)

Harper has now been fever-free (without medication) for over twelve hours. I’m taking her to the doctor this afternoon for a follow-up.

On my calendar for today was “Lunch with Mom and Tempe.” Now it says, “25 trees. Sugar & Glitter Bowls. Red velvet. Cards. Lydia!”

(The only thing on the calendar for Wednesday is “Volunteer 1140 and WRAP.” I’m looking forward to that one.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Nothing is impossible, Daisy Fuentes.

Last Monday I received an e-mail from our pastor asking if I would be interested in participating in our Lessons and Carols Sunday by reading one of the lessons.

Because I tend to flip out with this sort of thing, I quickly called Jeff and asked if HE would like to participate in Lessons and Carols Sunday by reading one of the lessons. He was all over it, as he tends to be.

After I replied to the original e-mail with some sort of strange dance in which I committed Jeff or myself to do one of the readings, I received the following response:

“Thanks, Angie – we are grateful for another woman reader! Here are the TWO readings we would love for you to share with the congregation. They are printed in the bulletin. See you on Sunday.”

WOMAN reader. Yep. That would be me and not Jeff. Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “Do one thing every day that scares you.” Deep breath.

TWO readings. Yes! I can once again feel my heart beating in my eyeballs!

Wait. Remember this?

Those are my eyeballs! (Can you tell that I was thinking about J-Lo when this photo was taken? I’m just kidding!!!) I love that the MRI tech gave me a CD of my brain scan. It just might come in handy at a time like this, when we’re having terrible luck scoring a decent Christmas card shot.

Evidence:

Why is Scout the only one smiling?

Anyway. Back to church.

I opened up the attachment and found that my very first reading contained the question, “How can this be, since I am a VIRGIN?” (The all-cap effect is mine, by the way.) I immediately took my terror to Facebook, where one friend suggested that I wear a cone bra. Another recommended that I read the virgin line while “employing an arched eyebrow and Dr. Evil pinky at the corner of your mouth.” A third simply said, “Wear lace gloves. You’ll be fine.”

Because I know myself better than I know anyone else, I immediately recognized the need for Self-Confidence Virgin Gear. To Kohl’s I went (I know.), where I eventually found myself in a dressing room with no less than five shirts, two dresses, two pairs of pants, and a skirt. I tried on the first outfit, looked into the mirror, and asked, “How can this BE, since I am a virgin?” Second outfit. “How can THIS be, since I am a virgin?” (Please know that no one else was in the dressing room.) Third outfit. “HOW can this BE, since *I* am a VIRGIN?!” Score.

Black Daisy Fuentes pants. (Daisy is NOT a virgin.)

Apt. 9 Red Pleated Chiffon Tank. (Because it’s Christmas.)

Black Apt. 9 Shrug. (To hide the dingle dangling of my upper arms.)

Dansko Midoris. (Because I tend to not fall down when I wear them.)

Let’s pick up the speed here, shall we? After being The Crabbiest Mom in the Universe yesterday morning, we arrived to church on time. I did both of my readings without falling down or giggling, and afterwards an elderly woman with a walker told me that she is rarely able to hear the speakers on Sunday mornings, but she could hear me. My first thought? “Oh, man. I must have SCREAMED about the virgin.” My second thought? I did Just Fine, Eleanor. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Keeping the Winter at Bay

I feel myself fizzling a bit with the daily music thing. SO, I’m abandoning it! See? It’s just that easy! I’m now putting myself (and my family and that includes the dogs and let’s also throw lentils into the mix because this with eleven Ritz crackers is so amazing) before the music! (This is totally the cold medicine talking. I NEVER do well with cold medicine! I’m talking to you, phenylephrine!) ((By the way, Trader Joe’s doesn’t classify the Madras Lentil as vegetarian, and I’m assuming it’s because it is created with equipment that sometimes touches fish. A few months back, I touched a hedgehog.))

On a whim, I recently bought this, even though I do not wear tank tops, nor do I like to sparkle. I still haven’t worn it, because I have no idea HOW to wear it. Also, I fear it’s too small, but I’ve recently been told that I wear my clothing too big, so I’m in a complete Whirlpool of Terror (and Zero Self Awareness) right now. I have a fresh haircut, and today I smell like Quantum Leap.

I listened to this song three times in a row this morning. Apparently, it’s on my iPod three times in a row, due to forgetfulness and alphabetization. I didn’t mind the repeats at all.

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Are there penguins in Palestine?

I shared this tune with you a few years back on the morning that John Green met his demise in our front yard. We never did replace Mr. Green. (Can one actually replace a fallen hero—a hero who had suffered stab wounds on TWO separate evenings? I think not.)

Because she was starting to smell like a dog, yesterday we took Scout to the groomer.

She is now looking less like Dave Navarro and more like the subject of a Margaret Keane painting. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

He takes me out dancin’ every Saturday night.

Well, hello there!

This morning I logged onto Facebook, and I watched this, and it reminded me of one of my favorite Christmas songs (originally performed by Tom Waits), so I decided to put together a musical Advent calendar for you. That’s how I’m going to try to keep NaBloPoMo going! I’m giving you a song (and often more than that) every day until Christmas! Maybe!

When Jeff and I lived in Nashville, we saw Neko Case performing outside the Grand Ole Opry. It was something like 193 degrees outside, and Ms. Case was feeling the heat. She tried to end her set early. Apparently, the people in charge reminded her that she had signed on for more time. SO, she returned to the stage wearing only a (transparent) bra and her skirt. The people in charge quickly flipped off the lights and the microphone, and Ms. Case was finished. Jeff and I later saw her packing up her beat up van in the parking lot. She was once again wearing her clothes.

None of this changes the fact that she has one of the most beautiful voices I’ve ever heard.

Evidence with bonus knitting content:

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The Things for Which I Hanker

Today I purchased a pair of these in tortoise. I drove to four (FOUR!) large chain eyeglass shops and wrote down exactly what I liked, and was then able to doink around online and find the frames for about three gajillion dollars less than what I would have paid in the store. I win.

Check out these button rings. They’re made by my dear friend’s niece, and I love them.

Speaking of love, I love everything in Isabella’s store. (As you know, I’m especially fond of the flatpacks. I ordered two of them as teacher gifts, and I’m REALLY itching to keep them for myself.)

Beautiful roving. Oh, how I need to devote more time to spinning.

I know I don’t need one of these, but I need one of these.

Speaking of which, this seems like a good idea, too.

Vic Firth salt and pepper grinder. Who knew?

I think my kids need a moon in their room.

I’ve tried several, and I loved them all. Especially these.

This is one of my very favorite movies.

I can see myself in this. With leggings.

I’m just so happy that this exists.

Are there things for which you hanker? Share them with me! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

How lovely are my branches…

My big announcement for today: I have boxed up two freelance projects to be returned to their primary editors tomorrow morning. Two (mostly) down, and one to go, and then I can attack Christmas. Relief tastes like a handful of roasted peanuts chased down by another handful of milk chocolate chips mixed with the slight hankering for something carbonated and pomegranate-esque.

We’ve been talking a lot about Christmas trees over here, and I think I need to ask you a question.

Our Christmas tree is a fifteen year old VERY unstable artificial tree that my parents bought for me when I was living in an apartment in the city. (It’s held together with tape!) If you’re into the Major Life Event sort of timeline, this tree has seen me move to Nashville, marry Jeff, and push out two kids! (I didn’t really push the kids out.)

What?! Hey!

As much as I would love to go out to the garage right now and start putting the tree together, this year I have to consider our new roommates.

They’re adorable and I love them, but they will DESTROY my Christmas tree in the same way that they have destroyed our couch and our carpet. (And a few hairbrushes and a TV tray and a Frisbee and our elderly cat’s joy.)

A real tree is not an option, because I’ve seen how they chew on the real trees in our back yard.

What are we to do? If we leave the tree in the box this year, we could hang tinsel and lights around the family room and then decorate the tinsel with ornaments. The kids are willing to deal with that option, as long as the final product looks something like this.

Jeff has suggested that we quickly invent a tree that will spray a bitter dog deterrent every time a quadruped approaches. With less than a month to go before the big day, I really don’t think we have time.

Am I missing an obvious solution? (I tend to miss the obvious solutions.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Going to the Mattresses

This morning The Pudding Family met up with Doug from Laid-Off Dad and The W Family for brunch at Duff’s.

It was delightful and time moved entirely too quickly while we were there and when we left, I was filled with the urge to put more life into what I do. Revivification! (I really love that photo of us, but if you’re in need of something that involves more eye contact, then here you go.)

I also left thinking that I need to learn how to quilt. (The walls at Duff’s are currently bedecked with gangster movie themed quilts made by a local artist.) Can you imagine an entire series of quilts based on quiltworthy Ben Folds songs? There’s Always Someone Cooler Than You Quilt! Stumblin’ Home Winter Blues Quilt! Best of all? Sleazy Quilt! (Fun Fact: Sleazy has been in my head for over 48 hours now. Do me a favor and ask Jeff how awesome it is when I cover Ben Folds covering Ke$ha. He loves it. But not really. Not really at all.)

After returning home and studying my little notebook where I had jotted down “Scarf Ace” and “Plants vs. Zombies” during our encounter at Duff’s, I worked on some freelance and then headed out to the Rock ‘n’ Roll Craft Show with my mom and sister. I went with one goal in mind: To Purchase a Pillow that Looks Like a Log. Sadly, I believe all log pillows had sold out. (Luckily, the Squaresville pot holders were still available.)

After leaving the craft show, we headed straight to Jilly’s, where I ate the cupcake that won Food Network’s Cupcake Wars. Banana toffee cake stuffed with toffee dulce de leche and topped with caramel cream cheese swirl and chocolate astronaut ice cream. That’s right. Chocolate astronaut ice cream.

My mom, who I shall now refer to as Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater, packed this in:

First you make a cupcake. Then you stuff it with a piece of pumpkin pie. Then you top it with cinnamon nutmeg buttercream and ANOTHER piece of pumpkin pie. It’s sort of like the cupcake form of turducken, minus the flesh and the slaughter, plus some cinnamon and deliciousness.

As I sit and type this out for you (only four more days of NaBloPoMo, you know), the girls are finishing up their one week anniversary lice treatment. We have now been completely bug free for over a week, but I will NOT accept victory without one final Phthirapterian sucker punch. It’s not personal, Sonny. It’s strictly business. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

In case you’re wondering, those are bullet holes. And that makes it even more perfect.

During our Thanksgiving celebration, I wandered downstairs into my aunt’s basement and found the most amazing parenting guide. Children in the Family—A Psychological Guide for Parents was written by Florence Powdermaker and Louise Ireland Grimes. It was published in 1940 by Farrar & Rinehart, Inc.

How many times have I walked around the room once or twice saying, “Loose, loose, loose” to all my muscles? Zero times! BUT, it’s not too late to start. Because if I shake or slap my kids, then we have a real fuss.

I’ve always wondered about sissy boys and masculine girls and what happened to make them that way.

I *still* don’t feel secure in my knowledge of how things really are and function. I wonder if I will EVER be ready for fairy tales (especially the classics)?!

Just this morning I sent the girls outside with some rope, a shovel, and rocks. Thank God for Urgent Care.

Suddenly, I know why I’m so screwed up. I went on entirely too many excursions when I was a child. What a preposterous stunt world I have seen! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I have some coupons and a half tank of gas.

Last year at this time, we were doing this:

This year at this time? Let’s just say that I’ve eaten my share of sweet potatoes and corn and cranberry salad and rolls and caramel pie, and am getting ready to head to the couch for a few hours before I hit the streets for Black Friday. That’s right. Black Friday.

Please know that I’m not one of Those People. Tempe and I head out mainly to drink coffee and watch people and maybe grab a gift or two. I’ll be back home shortly after the kids roll out of bed, and will spend tomorrow chilling out with a Harry Potter movie and some more sweet potatoes.

Remind me to tell you the story about this afternoon’s schizophrenia accusations and the unlikely bullet holes I found downstairs at my aunt’s house. (THIS is why I love Thanksgiving.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>