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Momo Fali's: June 2009

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Random Realizations II

1. The public library is pretty much the biggest scam on the planet. Free books, free music, free movies for everyone! Take five books if you want...we trust you.

2. If my son can do something he knows is wrong, he will.

3. I love watching my kids play ball in the summer, but by the time July rolls around with her 90 degree heat and 90% humidity, and her peri-menopausal, PMS attitude (oh wait...that's me) I'm kind of over it. And, at least half of me secretly hopes they don't make it to the tournaments.

4. If you happen to be sitting under a tree at your daughter's softball game and a big purple glob plops onto your shirt and pants, you will be disgusted because you think it's bird poop. Then you will be really relieved when you realize it's just a rotten mulberry.

5. I have had bad headaches since I was eight years old. Last Tuesday, I eliminated sugar from my diet and I haven't had a headache since. You would think this would make me stop eating chocolate forever. You would be wrong.

6. When someone asks me if I'm doing Atkins or South Beach and I tell them I'm doing the Suzanne Somers diet and they laugh at me, is it wrong for me to hit them over the head with a Thighmaster?

7. Heterosexual men shouldn't walk miniature poodles. Okay to own. Not okay to walk.

8. My 10 year old daughter waits to cut her toenails until I begin referring to them as talons.

9. I asked her if she would mind if I shared that toenail tidbit, and she said, "Not as long as you post a picture of them."

10. I wouldn't do that to you.

11. If you buy a black lab puppy from a breeder because the bloodlines are healthy, and in the first eight weeks that you have her she gets a UTI, mites, two staph infections, anemia, drinks latex paint and eats a rock, you're going to want to kick yourself for not going to the pound and getting a mutt. You'll also want to kick the breeder.

12. Then you'll see her adorable puppy face and none of that will even matter.

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Thursday, June 25, 2009

Now Hiring: Bathroom Monitor

The other day my seven year old son came in the room where I was reading and proudly announced, "I just peed in the bathtub!"

I put down the newspaper. "What? Why?"

"Because my sister was using the toilet and I needed to pee really bad."

This conversation would make perfect sense...if we didn't have two other toilets.

The next afternoon, he was eating some grapes when he dropped his entire bowl on the floor. Because we have two dogs, there is no such thing as a five-second rule in this house. My husband told him to go wash off the grapes before eating any more of them.

After a few minutes my son returned with any empty bowl.

I asked, "Where are your grapes?"

"I put them down the drain."

I hesitantly asked, "In the kitchen sink?"

"No. In the bathroom."

My BBQ skewers have never come in so handy.

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Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Why I'm a Terrible Mother

I was sick yesterday. Really sick. Dizzy and exhausted with a horrible headache that is still lingering today. I thought, maybe, it was the case of beer I drank while camping over the weekend. Until my daughter came down with it too.

My daughter rarely gets sick. She is going into the fifth grade and hasn't thrown up since March of her second grade year. And, I better not have jinxed myself by typing that.

The fact that she doesn't get ill very often makes this story even worse. This one event guarantees I will never win Mother of the Year.

In August, 2003 my husband won a fun-filled, family trip from his employer. He received four nights in a nice Cleveland hotel, four tickets to Cedar Point (the world's best amusement park...just sayin'), eight tickets to Sea World (which meant we got to go two days in a row), four tickets to an Indians game and a fully-paid dinner at an expensive restaurant.

We drove up to Cleveland on Wednesday, August 13. The morning of the 14th, as we were preparing for our hour-long drive to Cedar Point, my daughter complained of a stomachache. By the time we got to the amusement park, she had a fever. I gave her some Tylenol and she did her best to have a good time.

Late that afternoon the power went out at the park. Luckily we all had our feet firmly planted on the ground and because we had been there for over six hours, my daughter was sick, and we still had two days at Sea World ahead of us, we decided it was a good time to leave. We hopped in the car and started to look for a gas station, as our car was nearly on empty.

Only problem? Every gas station along the highway back to Cleveland didn't have power either. And, when we made it back to our hotel on the fumes of the gas tank we realized there was no electricity there...oh, and no water either.


By this time, my daughter was feeling very, very ill. A friend who lives in Cleveland brought us a small amount of gas and despite my daughter's stomach pain, headache and fever, we dragged her to Sea World (they had power) the next day in hopes it would take her mind off of it.

We did the same thing the day after that, even though she was still feeling sick. We went to the restaurant that night and she wouldn't eat a thing. We then went to the Indians game, where we stayed for maybe two innings before leaving because she felt so bad. That evening, she was pathetic and so horribly sick that we almost took her to the hospital.

On Sunday morning, as we were returning to Columbus, she was feeling better, but I started to feel sick. By the time we got home two hours later I was in such pain that my husband took me to the emergency room. I had all the same symptoms as my daughter, but I was only sick for a short time before I knew there was something really wrong.

After a couple of hours and a few tests, including a spinal tap, it was determined that I had viral meningitis. Not the kind that kills you, but still. I spent the next four days in a dark room until my symptoms improved.

That's right, we had been dragging our daughter around amusement parks for three days, in the August heat, during the great blackout of 2003, making her stay at a hotel that didn't even have ice or a flushable toilet and she had meningitis the whole time.

It's six years later and I still feel guilty.

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Friday, June 19, 2009

He Gets it Naturally

My daughter and son recently stayed at my mom's house for the night and she treated them to dinner at a local restaurant.

The three of them were seated in a booth directly next to two men. My mom said that one of guys looked very disheveled, and the other had a beard down to his waist.

As much as my mom told him not to, my seven year old son could not stop staring. Finally, one of the men started to talk to my boy.

And, because my mom knows my son's history, she quickly turned to the bearded man and said, "You probably shouldn't ask him any questions. He's very honest."

Nice, Mom. Now we know where my son learned how to be so subtle.

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Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Got Muscles?

My seven year old son is blatantly honest. This boy once told a cashier that she looked like a fish and told a TV repairman that he looked like Santa because of his big, round belly.

He has mentioned to a good friend of mine that she has a huge forehead, he touched the face of my husband's co-worker and told her that he liked her "little mole" and he once saw two Muslim women wearing headscarves, mistook those headscarves for bandannas, and then called them both pirates.

I never know what he will say.

The other day our puppy, Daisy, wouldn't stop throwing up. After a trip to the vet, a half-dozen x-rays and a barium study, her doctor sent us home with some special canned food and a bottle of Pepcid.

That afternoon, my son was sitting on my lap when he eyed one of Daisy's toys sitting on the floor; a ball you fill with kibble that she can roll around until the treats fall out.

He asked, "Can I put some little bones in Daisy's ball?"

I replied, "No. Not today, buddy. She can't have anything hard right now. The vet gave us those cans because the food inside is soft and squishy."

Then he ran his hand up my sleeve and said, "Oh. Like your arms."

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Monday, June 15, 2009

The Meat Wagon

On a fair June day, three great women came a very long way.
They brought me a CD and a super-cute bag,


and that tote was full of yummy swag!

I got a tiara, a sash, and a bouquet made of paper.


And, even the dogs got treats. Beef and bacon flavor!


They made us a lock, reminding us to close the door.


And, there was beef, sausage, a duck and more!


All in all, it was a fantastic day made possible by people across the USA.

I'm not sure if my heart has ever felt such elation,
and now my family won't die of starvation!

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Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Generosity

Back in the spring of 2002, my husband and I were told by a pediatric cardiologist that our baby would be born with a very rare heart defect. His best guess was that our son would be premature, then be sedated and ventilated until he reached five pounds and at that point, he would have open heart surgery.

When the news came that our child's heart was getting worse and he would, indeed, be born seven weeks too soon, people in our lives starting mobilizing.

My best friend organized a massive effort to have people bring us dinner. She knew we would be at the hospital a lot, and we still had our three year old daughter to take care of. It was unbelievably thoughtful.

Which is why it should make perfect sense that we declined the offer.

My husband and I felt sure we could handle our household, his job, the dog, our daughter and a baby in intensive care. We handled it all right, but I look back and realize it was the most stressful time in my life. Luckily, our son proved his doctor wrong and he came home after three weeks. If his hospitalization had gone on for as long as the doctors expected, I don't know how I would have held things together.

That story leads me to Tuesday, when I went to the garage to take some meat out of our upright freezer only to find that someone had left the door open. Water was dripping from the door and every bit of food had turned to a gooey mess.

What does my son being in the hospital have to do with a door left ajar? Wait for it...

Everything...everything...was completely thawed. All the beef and chicken we buy in bulk to save money, a big turkey, and lots of fish my husband had caught. Thousands of dollars in food. Gone.

I felt sick. I cried. This was food we bought despite losing our business last year. This mess was discovered just days after finding out that our health insurance at my husband's new job starts the deductible over again on July 1st. The deductible we just met. Oh sorry, the $4000 deductible we just met. Oh, and before that insurance started February 1st, we had just met the deductible on our old insurance. That baby with the heart defect? He's seven now and had his ninth surgery...in January.

In case you're not counting, that's THREE different deductibles we will meet in ONE calendar year. Our premiums are crazy-high too. We will put out over $20,000 in health insurance this year alone.

After realizing the food wasn't salvageable, I did what anyone would do. I called my husband and then I starting venting to everyone who would listen. And, people did listen. Not only that, they did something about it.

Yesterday morning I received an e-mail saying that three great ladies would be at my door on Sunday with food to restock my freezer. A mighty generous statement, especially given that they live roughly 400 miles away.

It turns out that one person said he'd like to help us out then it kind of snowballed and other wonderful people got on board. People started mobilizing, and this time we didn't really have a say. When I tried to stop them I was told, "This train has already left the station."

All I can say is that I will do my best to pay this forward. I promise.

I couldn't turn them down like I did my best friend all those years ago. And, I'm betting that when I look back at this time in my life, I won't think of how stressful it was, but rather how generous people can be.

They didn't do it for recognition. As a matter of fact, they planned on keeping it private. But I was not about to let this go unmentioned. My pride can take a ride in the back seat for this trip.

When I told my neighbor about it, she got goosebumps and said, "Thank you for telling me this. I needed to hear it because there is so much bad in the world."

She's right. But, you know what? There's a lot of good too.

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Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Little Picasso

Long-time readers may remember these pictures my son drew of me and my husband. Let's see if he's advanced in the last year, shall we?

This is me. I am happy that he gave me legs that go all the way to my neck, but my square hair-cut isn't very flattering. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mommy Scissorhands.


This is my husband. As you can see by the size of his pecs, he's been working out. The look of shock on his face is probably a reaction to the fact that I cleaned the bathrooms, because with as hairy as he is, those drains can get pretty clogged. Maybe I should give him a trim.

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Sunday, June 7, 2009

Frankly, Scarlett...

I turned 38 last week. During the last month I experienced the following. I am sharing this with you so you will recognize the signs that you're nearing forty...

- If you pull a shoulder muscle in your sleep.

- Which leads to your husband buying you a Tempur-Pedic pillow for your birthday and you're actually happy about it.

- If you find a gray hair.

- In your chin.

- If you fall asleep on the couch at roughly the same time you went out to keg parties in college.

- When you go shoe shopping and consider how comfortable the high-heels are, versus how high the high-heels are.

- If someone asks, "Is that a tattoo?"

- And you reply, "No, it's a spider vein."

And, you really know you're nearing forty...

- When you take all of the above and completely own it.

- Because the best thing about getting older is knowing that life is too short to give a damn.

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Thursday, June 4, 2009

Happy Birthday to Me

So, what do you think of my new design? Don't answer that if you don't think it's awesome. Because A) It is ALL KINDS of awesome and B) It's my birthday.

If you want something pretty and shiny, go see her. I LOVE her. Even if she did speak a lot of Greek and code and I just sat there and scratched my head and then she totally knew I was scratching my head and just MADE this. Amazing. She is so talented. My only talent is being able to hang a spoon on the end of my nose.

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Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Read One Hour Before, or Two Hours After Eating

Day before yesterday I laughed at someone for stepping on a dead baby bird. I didn't find the dead bird funny, but rather the picture of grace which is the person slipping on a city sidewalk. I like to watch people fall. I love AFV. It's kind of a sickness.

So guess who came to visit me yesterday? Karma. While working in the yard (okay, not so much working in the yard as spraying Round-Up on clovers that have apparently been sneaking steroids through the gate) I stepped on a dead baby bird.

You would think that was the worst thing I've ever stepped on.

Long ago, on a cruise, after a few too many drinks with mini-umbrellas and a certain ingredient that rhymes with "bum", I left the ship's dance club with friends. I was wearing high-heeled sandals that were killing my feet and decided to walk the carpeted halls barefoot.

As we rounded a corner, my bare foot landed squarely in a pile of someone's fresh vomit.

It may have been 12 years ago, but I am still telling myself that it was just a spilled strawberry shake.

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Monday, June 1, 2009

One Heck of an Antioxidant

My son was sitting on my Mom's lap eating some cherries when she said, "It's good that you like cherries because they're very good for you. If you have bad stuff in your body, they help get that bad stuff out."

My son replied, "You mean, like if I swallowed a gun and then ate a cherry, it would help me poop it out?"

I would say he kind of gets the concept. Kind of.

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