A Pirate, Happy Juice, And A Sharpie...

A few years ago, my mother went into the hospital for double knee replacement surgery.  I went to stay with her at the hospital while the surgery was taking place.  My mother was laying in bed with one of those Johnny's on that you will never see in any magazine because believe me, even Photoshop can't make that thing look good on anybody. She is attached to the saline solution and has a little granny cap on her head which of course keeps slipping down over her left eye. Since she had the IVs attached I tried to help her adjust the thing but to no avail. I suggested she just pretend it was an eye patch and she was a pirate....I got 'the look'. OKaaaay, so I helped tuck it behind an ear. (Till the nurse came back in and put it back where it was....)

The nurse anesthetist came in and started asking my Mom all sorts of questions. Things like, do you have any special markings? It took me a second to realize she was asking about scars, moles, or tattoos. My Mom mentions her scars. Then the nurse asks about body piercings and my Mom says two. One in each ear. (By this time I am trying very hard not to laugh.) The nurse finishes up and leaves.

My Mom turns to me and and says "WHAAAT?"

"Reason number 236 why body piercings are not a good idea. Mom, I can see MYSELF at 70 and saying yeah, I have a belly button ring, both ears pierced 7 times and oh yeah, both nipples..."

(I know my kids are going to read this and say GROOSSSS MOM!!! - Well, sweeties, don't read the rest of this then!)

You know? They say timing is everything and just as I was saying this the doctor comes around the screen. He was smiling but thankfully didn't say anything. He does his spiel and then he, too, leaves.

So my Mom and I are still laughing and another nurse comes in to administer the "Happy Juice". She kept checking the chart and I'm sure she thought that we were probably "Happy" enough.

After she leaves I tell my Mom, "That is also the reason I won't get a tattoo. I don't think they look as good with the wrinkle, wave effect....Hey, you can see my tattoo, just let me stretch it out flat for you....Nope, not gonna happen."

I asked my Mom if she needed a sharpie and she asked what for. I told her about a story I heard about a woman who was in a bad accident and had to have part of one leg removed. She had used a sharpie to write notes all over her body to the doctors, nurses and anesthesiologist. On the good leg she wrote NOT THIS LEG, THIS IS THE GOOD ONE. On the bad leg she wrote THIS IS THE RIGHT LEG, I MEAN THE BAD LEG, CUT HERE. She also wrote notes with arrows about where the reconstructive surgery was NOT taking place so that there was no need for them to look there. I couldn't remember all of them but it didn't matter, we were laughing so hard by this time that the staff had come to see what was up and then we had to tell them the story. Needless to say, Mom went into surgery with a big smile and tears on her face (and so did everyone else :o)

QOTD: "Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine."  Lord Byron (1788-1824) English Poet

Milestones Of Motherhood...

I was over at When In Rome and Sara wrote a post about babysitting a neighbor's son and the trials and tribulations of such an endeavor.  After having left a comment and receiving a note from Sara, I started to think about children and parenting.

Lately I have been pondering the effects of having kids. This having been brought on by recent events such as two of our daughters have driving permits.

Do you know that it is very difficult to hide your shaking hands when the rest of your body looks like it is being rocked by an earthquake at about an 8.4 on the Richter scale? OK. To be honest they are doing great. It is probably just coincidence that I have been drinking a glass of wine when we get home... you know... for medicinal purposes only... of course it's hard to pour that glass when your hands are clenched.... Harder still to drink said glass when you have to pry your teeth apart with the jaws of life...

Looking back, I now realize that there are many other milestones related to the side effects of having kids. All you mothers out there can probably relate to the fact that after you have a baby, you are not as uncomfortable changing in a locker room. Believe me, when you are giving birth, you won't care if a platoon marches through your room while you are buck naked. After that experience, I really thought nothing of changing into a bathing suit at the gym without heading into a bathroom stall. By time you hit the birth of child number four, modesty means wearing a bra to hold up the sagging breasts instead of going without one while wearing a tank top to the grocery store.

Cleaning up vomit, blood and bowel movements (especially the kind used by little kids to do finger painting on self and every available surface) doesn't make you bat an eye anymore.

Learning that little pitchers have ears and WILL repeat anything and EVERYTHING you say at the most inopportune time that will have the most embarrassing effect, is a lesson a parent learns quickly.

A close corollary to this is that kids will ask the most embarrassing questions at the most public of times. After the first two or three kids you will start to have some fast answers available to you.

But there is also the side effect of seeing things fresh and new through the eyes of a child. Let's also not forget the heart wrenching sight of seeing a child on the night after the tooth fairy comes, Christmas morning, Easter Egg hunts or the day they go off to school for the very first time.

The first time you hold them in your arms, their first word, first step, first tooth, first tricycle, first school performance, first heartache, first date, first dance.

I try to remember all these things when I step out of the car after taking the girls for a practice drive. I find that this works best as long as I have something to hold on to since my knees do not seem to work properly when I get out of the passenger seat. That is until my legs give up and I fall down, knocking myself out...

QOTD: "You know, somebody actually complimented me on my driving today. They left a little note on the windscreen, it said 'Parking Fine.'" Tommy Cooper

What Does The English Language, Hoo Hoos And Pole Dancing Have In Common?

If you have teenage daughters, then some of the following might seem a little familiar... in a twisted, humorous kind of way...

Nicole and I do not see eye to eye on the length and height of a few articles of clothing. I know the style these days is to wear your pants as low as it can go without being arrested for indecent exposure... but not on my daughters.

The same can be said for the depth of cleavage shown. We have tried to instill a sense of morals and values and I think our kids have very good heads on their shoulders for the most part. As teenagers, however, it must be some unwritten rule, somewhere, that 'thou must argue, whine and generally be disagreeable about fashion, music and what the friends are allowed to get away with that you are not.'

Having said this, tonight's conversation will make more sense to you. We open the scene with Danielle arguing with me about her jeans and the fact that she is not wearing a shirt that will cover her midriff.

Finally her father says to her, "If you are going to attempt to communicate primarily in the English language, then you should learn to use it in a more intelligent manner."

Argument over.

We all sit down to eat dinner. Remember Nicole who is notorious for getting spoken to about her clothing choices? Well, she looks across the table at her sister and says to her, "Your shirt is way too low. I get yelled at if I don't wear another shirt underneath."

The husband says, as Nicole continues on this train of thought, "You have made your point, don't lose the moral high ground. Besides, if your sister wants to show her hoo hoos at the dinner table for us all to comment upon, who are you to ruin our fun?"

Danielle quickly pulls up her shirt.

Danielle, "I wore a sweatshirt over this all day!"

Me, "Yeah, I've been meaning to ask for you to give me my sweatshirt back.  It's older than you are and I've just gotten it broken in."

My husband looks at me and says, "Is that the one she was conceived upon?"

Danielle, "EEEEUUUWWWW!  Did you have to tell me that?  That is really not a mental picture that I want to have!"

Husband, "Will you be able to wear your mother's sweatshirt again without picturing it?"

Danielle, "Noooooooo!  You've ruined it for me."

Husband, "Mission accomplished."

Not that this is true, mind you, but I decided not to add to this conversation... not even to mention that her shirt now bares her midriff again. It may not seem like it sometimes, but I do try to pick my battles.

My husband says, "I don't get it. You don't mind the world seeing you but you are embarrassed if anyone in your family sees you? Aren't you the same daughter who just showed that you can't stand to hear even a hint that your parents have a love life?"

Me, "Honey, maybe she just needs to get used to us? Maybe we should try to be a little louder?"

Danielle, "Euuwww! Dad, how about we bring up your parents love life?"

My husband, "Why? You're the only one embarrassed by it. If you want to embarrass me you will have to try a lot harder."

Danielle, "At least I didn't pursue pole dancing as a form of exercise."

Nicole very loudly states, "Not in my house!"

My husband, (imitating Dr. Seuss)

"Not in my house,
not in my car,
not in my yard,
not in my town,
not in my time zone,
not in my hemisphere!"

Yes, indeed. It's just another day in the life of the Lemon Stand household. Aren't you glad your family isn't as strange as mine?

End of scene. Exit. Stage right.

QOTD: "You know your children are growing up when they stop asking where they came from and refuse to tell you where they're going." P. J. O'Rourke

The Lemon Stand Vernacular...

What is 'vernacular' you say?

According to Dictionary.com one of the meanings of vernacular is "the plain variety of language in everyday use by ordinary people."  That was the simplest definition I could find.  The other online dictionaries had definitions but they sounded like gobbledygook to me.

What does 'gobbledygook' mean?  Well, again, according to Dictionary.com, gobbledygook means "...language characterized by circumlocution and jargon, usually hard to understand: the gobbledegook of government reports."

What does 'circumlocution' mean?  Well, we could be here all day at this rate and this is not my intended point of this post.  Oh, all right, just click on the link for the definition....

I love the word 'discombobulated' but Klaatu of Grey Matters commented on the last post: "Whenever I need to regain my combobulatedness, I stay in bed with kitties and books."  I didn't think I had ever heard 'combobulate' much less 'combobulatedness'.  Even my spellchecker is shrieking with it's dire warnings.

So I Googled it (I think most people can now say that Googled is in the modern vernacular) and came upon a very lively debate on the subject  Why Can You Be ‘discombobulated’ But Not ‘combobulated’? over at the blog 'Why?'.

I learned from this most wonderful post that apparently 'combobulate' is not part of the dictionaried English language.  For that matter, neither is 'dictionaried' in Merriam-Webster's Online English Dictionary.  At least, NOT at the time the post was written back in January of 2008 nor this one.

Even The Word Detective states that 'combobulate' is not a word.  The Word Detective is a cool little site I have just found (and joined) that answers any questions you might have about words.  If you want to take a look at what he has to say about 'discombobulate' or 'kittywompus' for that matter, then go to his entry titled, 'Book Em'.

Now I have wasted a crap load of time researched this odd duck of a word.  Combobulate.  Not as musical off the tongue as discombobulate but we will strive to make do.  Anything to pull me away from domestic goddess duties!

Combobulate IS, however, in a few online dictionaries, just not what I would describe as 'official' English dictionaries.  I even searched for combobulate in British English Dictionaries, Australian English Dictionaries and so on, just in case it had become official in any other English speaking country.  Like I said, I have wasted A LOT of time.

At Definition-of.com's Community Dictionary I hit the mother-load so to speak, where the definition of 'combobulate' is etched on my computer screen as:

"To put together in a somewhat mysterious manner. To bring something out of a state of confusion or disarray. To manufacture by some unusual or novel means."

They even go so far as to give examples of this fine word:

"We must think out-of-the-box in order to combobulate a solution to overcome all these seemingly impossible challenges."

And I just know you are dying to know that there is a second definition on this fine web dictionary...

To think extensively.  "I will have to combobulate for a while about my studies."

Now the online Urban Dictionary goes even further with this industrious word...  Just look how it has been fruitful and multiplied...

combobulate uncombobulated undiscombobulated discombobulated recombobulated rediscombobulated reundiscombobulated reuncombobulated

combobulated - The period before the feeling of discombobulation.

"Darn, I feel quite discombobulated right now, I miss being combobulated."

 What does 'industrious' mean?  Oh, never mind...

Am I the only person on the planet that becomes OCD over certain mysteries?  At least, if you have read to this point, you too have wasted a whole lot of time been elucidated.

Oh, and by the way Klaatu?  Your word STILL was not listed...

QOTD:  "We cannot hold a torch to light another's path without brightening our own."  Ben Sweetland, author

Friends And Family...

I am discombobulated today.  (Hey, I spelled that right the first time!  The spell checker didn't even whimper.  Maybe that's a sign?  I dare you to come up with a better adjective!) 

Seriously though, I'm going to be a scrooge and say that I really don't like this time of year.  Our home has been in chaos since just before Thanksgiving and never slows down until just after New Years or whenever the Christmas decorations get put away.  (Generally I try to make that happen sometime before Easter, but sometimes...)

The husband has drill this weekend and I think I may let him fend for himself.  He can hunt and gather rather well so I don't need to fear he'll starve.  But I need to be with my best friend's family.  My sister from another mother.  

You know how some friends really energize and comfort you with just their voice or presence?  The kind of friend who isn't afraid to tell you that you are being stupid?  The kind you just love being able to sit down at the same table and have a cup of teaa... and not have to say a word.  I've been blessed with one of those.  (And although we haven't talked since before Thanksgiving, I can feel that she needs a friend right now.  Does that make sense?)  The only problem is that we live several hours from each other so it has been way too long since I've seen her and her family.  My kids adore her.  (probably because she doesn't take any crap from them... or me)  :)

Have I mentioned that she is Rhode Island Italian?  (I'm not sure why the "Rhode Island" designation is important, but apparently it is.) 

I wonder if she'll hear me in Rhode Island if I whine loud enough.

"Keeeeelllllyyyyyy!  Neeeeeeddddd Meat-a-balls...." 

Speaking of whining...  Nicole did not want to get out of bed this morning and after a few minutes of whining I headed into the kitchen for a TALL, ICE COLD, glass of water to assist me in my endeavor to shoe horn her out of bed.  Today I didn't even make it to the hallway to her bedroom before I was treated to a dirty look and the comment "You're really rude Mom!" 

I'm thinking, 'desperate times call for desperate measures'. 

A little while later, I went looking for her and found her hiding in the bathroom.

::Knocking on bathroom door, ice water in one hand just in case...::
"Did you fall asleep on the toilet?"
::Disembodied voice::
"Yeah, Mom. I'm dreaming of a better place."

Ok. I guess I won't be the one to bust that bubble.

Finally, Danielle and Rachel keep asking me why I don't do a post on their favorite lemons "saying"? They don't like the one about lemons and making lemonade.  This is my children's take on lemons... "When life gives you lemons, you make grape juice and then sit back and enjoy watching the world wonder how you did it..."

And for further decoration on my blog today, Rachel (our resident artist) would like to draw a rabbit...

  (\ /)
  (oo)
c(") (")

I know my post today is all over the place.  It doesn't flow like a zen river... hmmmm.  Probably because the only way to achieve zen is Kelly's spaghetti...  Anyway, like I said.  I'm discombobulated today.  :)  I hope everyone has a great day.  I'm off to help with the book fair at Erin's school.

QOTD: "Having one child makes you a parent; having two makes you a referee." David Frost (1939-) The Independent, 1989