Bras freak him out

The problem with having a loved one in the hospital for a long period of time is that the world doesn't stop for you. You still have to go to work, eat and do laundry. Sunday I was getting dressed and realized I didn't have a clean "good" bra, damn it, I put an old one on and threw a load in. The reason we call them "good" bras is that we take extra special care of them, they never see the inside of a dryer, they go over the shower curtain rod to dry.

"I want to get to the hospital in time to help mom with her dinner."
"So we should leave in a half hour then?"
"Yeah, get those kids ready, I have to make a couple calls."
"Boy #3 get in the shower." This is the third time I barked out that order. The boy is incredibly difficult to get out of the house.

"I would, if you'd move your bras."
"Bras freak him out, we don't have to worry about this one for a while." I explained to the husband.
"No. He's freaked out by his mother's bras." The husband explained to me.

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The progression of my mother-in-laws Stevens Johnsons Syndrome has stopped for the last three days. This is very rare, but very good for her. If this damn syndrome has stopped then she should recover from it. We are all praying and crossing our fingers and toes.

Long Story Short

My mother-in-law developed an allergic reaction to a medication and is in a burn unit of a hospital. This allergic reaction has it's own name, Stevens Johnsons Syndrome. I'm not providing a link because I won't go back to those sites, ever.
This is why I haven't posted in a week. Our family has been schlepping back and forth to the hospital like a bunch of nomads, meeting in the family waiting room, all dressed in yellow hospital gowns tied in the back. And everyone with blank looks on our face, emotionally numb, wondering why the hell is this happening to this 83 year old woman.

I'll try to update this post when I can and I will be reading you guys when I need to smile, because you guys always make me smile.

I am Anti Meme

meme - n. A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

While a lot of bloggers participate in the crazy world of meme's I chose not to, simply because I consider it too much work. I was tagged last week by Collette at My Babcia's Babushka and I must politely decline to list 7 of my personality traits and tag 7 more saps to do the same. No offense Collette, I decline everyone that tags me. The only meme I half heartily participated in was Diesel's Retarded Meme and that's only because it has purpose and meaning. His goal is to be the #1 retarded site on the Internet and when that happens I like to know I played a small part in that achievement.

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The boy fixed my computer, I knew there was a reason we had him. So I can get back to my commenting and answering comments and posting and FaceBooking. The hell with the housework I was forced to do while the computer was down.

The Blood Sugar Level is Right

Boy #2's girlfriend is in nursing school and she has joined forces with me in lording over the damn diabetics sugar intake. So much so that the husband fondly refers to her as the sugar nazi.

"Did you pick up milk?"
"Got it."
"Your arms look pretty full for just milk. What's in that bag?"
"Hide this from her."
"This" was a bakery box with 4 cinnamon rolls gobbed with icing.
"Didn't you hear Obama warn us of greedy surgeons lopping off diabetics feet left and right for monetary gain? And still you're going to look that danger in the face, laugh it off and eat ooey gooey cinnamon rolls?"
"Just one, the rest are for you guys."

Later that evening:
Pointing my finger at the husband, "He ate a cinnamon roll, see them out there in the kitchen?"
The girlfriend, "Did you take your blood sugar level? I'll bet it's high. I'm guessing two fifty at least."
Me, "I think it's one seventy...... no, one eighty-nine."
We turned our attention to Boy #2.
"I'm gonna say one dollar Bob."

"We don't have power, the cars in the garage and it's electric, so we can't get out."

Occasionally a sentence you hear from a breaking news interview on the radio sticks with you and you have to share it, make fun of it and then blog about it. After a storm blew through Northeast Ohio Monday, several communities found themselves without power, ours just went out for a minute then everything came back on except my computer, I'm using the husband laptop until Boy #3 fixes mine, cross your fingers with me.

Tuesday morning I'm listening to the radio and hear something stupid, "We don't have power, the cars in the garage and it's electric, so we can't get out."

Seriously read it again, "We don't have power, the cars in the garage and it's electric, so we can't get out."

Doh!

Even I know how to get out of the garage when the powers out. Apparently this guys meandered along in life without knowing the rope that hangs from your garage door opener can disengage the electricity and render it a manual garage door like in the olden days. I hope he doesn't try to use that on his boss.

Besides a computer with a blue screen we have a tree down in the yard. The husbands stoked about it though, he gets to use the trailer he bought for his John Deere. Now on Saturday he will drag the boys out to the yard and chain saw stuff, load his trailer and haul stuff. He's also been waiting for a good strong wind to knock down some dead tree limbs that he can't reach. Not wanting to pay someone to remove them and unable to reach them at the top of his ladder while swinging a shovel at them he's been waiting for Mother Nature to take care of them. They survived the storm and the perfectly good tree cracked off about half way up. Mother Nature is an indiscriminate bitch.

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My time will be limited on the computer until I can drag this kid away from his friends long enough to help his poor mother.

Weekend Weirdos

I like to spend most of my weekends in search of the weird people, it makes blogging fun and there's so many of them out there. I've run into a bit of a blogging dry spell so this weekend is crucial. Since I wasted my Friday already because of my sunshine and lollipops mood, today I need to be particularly alert for morons. It won't be easy I have to spend part of my evening at the nursing home my mother-in-law now resides in for the next 6 - 8 weeks because of her latest fall Monday. The time I spend there will be wasted when it comes to post ideas, because the people there are sitting ducks. It would be way to easy and I have bad karma issues. I will be on my best behavior unless I can't help myself, unless ........

I selfishly push my kids into a hopeless situation. Hey there's an idea. Use the children to feed your blog. But wait, they are the ones that will be picking out my nursing home. This is a dilemma.

My Perfect Egg McMuffin Day

When the moon is in the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars, then peace will guide the planets and I will buy an Egg McMuffin. It takes that kind of luck to get me out of the house early enough to stop at McDonalds before work. And it happened this morning. My Egg McMuffin and I checked my emails this morning. My day was filled with harmony and understanding. It was a sunshine and lollipops day, the birds were singing, the traffic was non-confrontational and everyone at WalMart seemed smarter. They all used the exit as the an exit and the entrance as the point of entry, it was amazing. Although my hands stuck to the shopping cart handle it didn't ruin my perfect Egg McMuffin day.
And since Relax Max has been perusing my blog lately I thought I'd share my wonderful day by mentioning WalMart because I know how much he enjoys a good WalMart story.

Is that the one when she stabs him in the neck with a pen?

I got myself "into" a movie tonight. The husband was in the backyard burning stuff so I found myself in charge of the remote. The movie Red Eye caught my attention, but since I'm legally obligated to not leave any of my children standing in a dark parking lot waiting for a ride home from work, I had to hit the record button so I could see the end. This woman was in quite a pickle up there on the airplane.
On our way home I asked Boy #3 if he'd ever seen Red Eye.
"What's it about?"
"Well they're up there in a plane, a terrorist and a woman, he has a fellow terrorist watching her fathers house, if she doesn't switch some government officials hotel room to an easier to kill him room, terrorist A will have terrorist B kill her father. But I had to stop watching and record it because I had to pick up you. How was work?"
"It was busy but not crazy busy. Is that the one when she stabs him in the neck with a pen?"


"Like I said, I haven't seen the whole movie yet. But thanks for the heads up on the pen, honey."
I should have left him in the dark parking lot.