Wednesday, December 22, 2004


Fifty-five years ago today Robin and Maurice Gibb (ie. two-thirds of the '70's DiscoFunk group the Bee Gees) were born.

How do I know this?

Because after I finished my bake-athon, cleaned the kitchen, took a shower, and got the Little Guy to bed, I was off to finish my Christmas shopping.

And because I left the house at precisely 7:05 and caught "The '70's at 7" on the radio on my way to Toys R Us.

Today, in honor of the Brothers Gibb, the radio station was playing an all Bee Gees hour, with the exception of Shadow Dancing played in memory of the Littlest Gibb, Andy. (Every time I hear that song, I think of my friend Mary Ellen Bigelow. She was absolutely certain the name of the song was Shut Up and Sing.)

So, I'm driving down the H-1 at 60 m.p.h. with Bee Gees blaring on the stereo of my MomVan, loving the fact that I had finished my baking and I had a few hours all to myself. The rain had stopped, traffic was light and the city was lit up in the distance - I couldn't wish for a more perfect evening.

The radio station went through all the classics - from Jive Talkin' to You Should Be Dancing to Night Fever, with audio clips from Welcome Back Kotter thrown in just for the Hell of it. As I attempted to sing along with the Bee Gees, I had a revelation. Other than the main chorus, there really are no words to a Bee Gees song. At least not words that anyone knows.

Take Jive Talking, for example. Can anyone sing the lyrics (without Googling them first)? This is all I could do:

With all your
Jive Talkin....Hmmm hmmhmhm...yeah....
Jive Talkin...hhhmmhm....
Jive Talkin'.....Hmmmmhmmm......yeah
Jive Talkin'.....hmmmhm...hmmhm...

You get the idea - it was the same with every song that came on. And now I feel bad for laughing when Mary Ellen started singing, "Shut Up and Sing..."

Nostalgia Item #2:

Today I got a Christmas card from the Friend Since Kindergarten. She enclosed a photo taken at her 8th (I think) birthday party. There are six of us sitting at a picnic table with party hats and those blowie things (what are they called???) And we're all wearing dresses and knee socks!!

For those of you who may not know, I've never really been a girly-girl. This picture proves it. I'm in the front row with my dress-and-knee-sock combo with my knees spread apart and my underwear clearly visible for all to see.

It is hysterical!

I can imagine I was every mother's nightmare. I'm sure when my friends invited me over, their mothers all cringed and pleaded, "But she's the one who climbs trees, plays with trucks and flashes her underwear in birthday party photos!!"

It's a Beautiful Day!!

The Little Guy is better and is sleeping it off. He slept twelve hours last night, without waking once.

I slept twelve hours last night, to make up for the three hours I got the night before.

It's been pouring rain for six hours and I don't HAVE to go anywhere today.

It's just after noon and I'm still in my pajamas. I have made no effort to get dressed, other than brushing my teeth and putting on a pair of socks because it was getting chilly. My hair isn't even combed - I had it pulled back yesterday, so now it's sticking in a million different directions. And I don't care.

We're spending the afternoon making cookies, fudge, peanut brittle, and pies.

Life is good.

Sunday, December 19, 2004

Christmas Traditions Continue. Oh, Joy.

Today marked the beginning of one of our holiday traditions - the Christmas Flu.

This is the fourth year in a row that we've been hit with the Christmas Flu. The first year, we were in Oklahoma and just sort of hung out at home, no big deal. The following year was probably the worst because we were traveling. The Blonde One threw up all over Grandpa and Grandma's house in Michigan. The Wildcard threw up in the Lansing airport, the Cincinnati airport, and again in the Ft. Lauderdale airport. The Diva threw up at Grandpa and Grandma's house in Florida, and the Hubster took his turn on New Years Eve. Last year the majority of the heaving happened at 80 m.p.h. on I-95 between our house and the in-laws. Miraculously, I've always been the one who didn't get sick.

I had mentioned that the Little Guy had never been sick - something that has come back to bite me in the butt big time. He began the week with a low-grade fever and the poopies. He was sick, then he seemed okay, then he wasn't feeling well again....

Last night he woke at midnight with a fever of 102.1. We broke out the Tylenol, let him play for a while, then gave him a bottle and put him back to bed some time around 3:00 a.m. (When I say "we", of course I mean that the Hubster brought me the Tylenol, then headed off to bed while I handled the rest.) When the Little Guy finally went to bed, he seemed to be feeling well and the fever was definitely down.

Fast-forward to 5:30 a.m.

He was awake again. Not really crying, just sort of whimpering in his bed. When I checked on him, he was burning up. The digital thermometer said 105.3. I have rarely seen anything over 104 in any of the kids, so this panicked me a bit. I re-dosed him with the Tylenol, did the sponge bath, and everything my book recommended for bringing down a fever. After two hours, he was just under 103 degrees and having dry heaves.

As much as I hated to do it, I packed him up and headed to the E.R. at Tripler. They immediately gave him a dose of Motrin, which he immediately returned to them full-force.

After talking with the doctor, who gave me the "we can't just treat the fever, we have to treat the cause" spiel, they began with the fun stuff. His temperature was nearly 105 again and he wasn't keeping anything down, so the process of elimination began.

First on the list was a chest x-ray - not fun for Little Guy. Next, they needed to get a urine sample via catheter - definitely not fun. Finally, two vials of blood were drawn and an I.V. was inserted. By this time, the Baby-Who-Never-Cries (except when visiting Santa Claus) was hysterical. They began giving him meds through the IV, and there was nothing to do except wait.

So we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

At 3:30 his fever had dropped enough that they could send him home with the mandatory bottle of Tylenol and instructions to see his pediatrician tomorrow for lab results.

So, today was supposed to be my day to clean the house and make my shopping list. Instead I spent it in the E.R. Tomorrow was supposed to be my finish-the-shopping day and commissary day, but will spend it with the pediatrician.

Bah Humbug.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

I'm Off To Bury My Head In The Sand Now

Tonight the Diva came to me and asked about her high school's Winter Ball.

She said she didn't get any "good" offers, but still wanted to attend with a couple of her girl friends. The Hubster and I discussed it and decided against it. The tickets are $44, she would need a new outfit (according to her), and of course new shoes. We suggested just getting together with her friends and going to a nice restaurant and seeing a movie.

After surprisingly little pleading, she decided not to go.

Then she asked if we could give her $44. (She obviously attended the Hubster's Budgeting 101 course....)

I laughed and sent her on her way.

Five minutes later the Blonde One approached me and asked if he could go to the Winter Ball. That REALLY caught me off-guard because he has never been the social type. I said that I had just told the Diva she couldn't go, so we couldn't let him go either. Then the pleading began.

Blonde One: Please, please, Mom?

Me: We just told your sister she couldn't go....

Blonde One: Please?

Me: How can we let you go if we aren't letting her go?

Blonde One: (this is where he pulled the Big Blue Eyes Card) But I have to go.

Me: Why do you have to go?

Blonde One: Well, there's this girl....

Me: Wha?

Blonde One: I sort of asked her to go already....

Me: Wha?

Blonde One: I can't tell her 'no'.....

Me: Which girl? (He has a posse of giggly girls.)

Blonde One: It doesn't matter...

Me: Yes, it does. You can't go if I don't know who you are going with. It's the same rule we apply to the Diva.

Him: Sonya. You met her before. She came to visit me in the hospital.

(That didn't really narrow it down much - he had a lot of female visitors in the hospital.)

So, they both get to go.

By the way, the Diva's jaw hit the floor when she found out that her Freshman brother had a date and she didn't.

I am so NOT ready for this.

Monday, December 13, 2004

Thoughts That Should NEVER Have Entered My Mind

1. The Little Guy is almost a year old and has never really been sick, or even had a diaper rash.

2. I am SO ahead of schedule with this Christmas stuff (except for the shopping part).

3. I really should print my Tacky Christmas Letter on this nearly-cardstock paper because I like the little speckles on it.

4. StupidDog hasn't really shown any interest in the Christmas tree this year.

5. That 'lifting with your knees' thing is so overrated.

So now I'm stuck at home with a bad back and the Little Guy, who has a fever and the poopies (which cause the diaper rash). I have Christmas cards and five packages to mail ASAP. The Christmas cards will probably require extra postage because the letter is too thick and two of the packages are overseas, so I have no choice but to make a trip to the post office. And StupidDog has discovered the joys of chewing on Christmas ornaments.

Happy Monday.

Saturday, December 11, 2004

Ho, Ho, Home!

Yesterday the Hubster took the day off work so he could help me with the Christmas shopping. The kids had given us their lists, so we planned to hit the stores early after dropping the Wildcard off at school, break for lunch around 11:00, then finish in time to pick the Wildcard up at 2:15.

What a joke.

I hate to shop.

He hates to shop.

There's nothing worse than two non-shoppers on a marathon shopping session.

We were at the Pearl Harbor Navy Exchange by 8:30. The boys wanted the new Gameboy (I think it's called Nintendo DX or SP or MX or WTF??). We figured we could get that at the NEX, along with the two games they had on their lists. The Diva wanted some CD's, so we thought we could pick those up there as well.

After a brief detour so the Hubster could try on some shorts and decide he didn't want them (good decision - they didn't show off his great legs, in my opinion), we headed upstairs to the electronics section.

I don't know why we went there - I hate that place. It's always crowded and everyone is rude. Definitely no Aloha spirit happening there.

Anyway, the Gameboy Thingie was sold out. They didn't have either of the games, and we nixed the CD's because neither of us had the patience to search through rows and rows of CD's looking for the obscure bands that she likes.

By 9:00 we were heading out of the parking lot. Next stop: Toys R Us. We could check for the Gameboy Thingie, pick up the outdoor swing we were getting for the Little Guy, and grab a few stocking stuffers for the Wildcard.

Just as we pulled into the Toys R Us parking lot, the Little Guy fell asleep. The Hubster quickly volunteered to stay in the MomVan with him while I shopped.


The store was packed (at 9:00 a.m.!!). I always hate that place. People seem to think it is a playground and let their kids run wild, ride bikes up and down aisles, and pull random toys off shelves. After ten minutes and not being able to find a single thing I headed to the exit.

The Little Guy was already awake. (I think the big, tough Marine was afraid to brave the Toys R Us crowd and decided to stay in the MomVan.)

The mall was right next door. We spent all of three seconds thinking about it before deciding we didn't want to go anywhere near that place. It was off to the Hickam Exchange.

It was not quite 9:30, and the Little Guy was getting ornery. We ran in, found the Little Tykes swing we were looking for and headed home.

By 10:05 we were home and it was naptime. For all of us.

When the Little Guy woke up, we headed out again - this time for lunch.
After lunch, we stopped at Costco to get some milk. We ended up spending over $200 because (1) they had the Gameboy Thingie and (2) the Hubster LOVES Costco.

Bottom line, at the end of the day we had crossed two things off our lists - the swing and the Gameboy Thingie. Last night I e-mailed the kids' lists to the Hubster's mom. She loves to shop.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Praise the Lord!!

This is the kind of day I am having....

I just posted a comment to my own blog and got the "Your Comment Has Been Saved!" message.

I imagined a group of choir-robed women singing and clapping because my comment had been saved.

(I really, really need some sleep.)

((Or another drink.))

Monday, December 06, 2004

Going Postal...

I don't know why I dread going to the post office.

It's less than half a mile from my house and I pass it several times each day.

The lines are normally very short.

The employees are very friendly, unlike the creepy customer service guy in our Florida post office.

For some unknown reason I HATE the post office. I will let packages and bills pile up until I absolutely have to get them out of the house. Today was that day.

I dropped the Wildcard off at school and headed straight to the post office, only to get caught in the 8:00 a.m. rush. (You all know that the only people who are anywhere at 8 a.m. are the senior citizens who begin the day at 5 a.m. and the moms of Little People who begin the day at 5 a.m. and try to run errands before morning nap time.)

Anyway, the post office. I had heard that several of the local post offices had new self-service centers where you could weigh your own packages, pay for postage, and be out the door in minutes. I was hoping ours would be one of the chosen few. Wouldn't that be nice? With all the retirees in the area, I would probably be the only one using self service!!! I was optimistic as I entered the building and quickly surveyed the lobby.

No such luck.

So I took my place at the end of the line. Ahead of me were about 15 senior citizens with perfectly stacked, perfectly wrapped packages and stacks of perfectly matched Christmas cards. I had my mismatched, recycled boxes stacked haphazardly on top of Little Guy's stroller. Every time I inched forward in line, a random box would drop to the floor.

Ahead of me in line:

-The Blue-Haired Lady with a stack of unsealed cards and a stack of various sized photos. I watched as she opened one envelope, placed a photo inside, asked the postal worker to weigh it. If it was still under-weight, she searched through her stack of photos, selected one, placed the second photo inside and asked the postal worker to weigh it.... It was painful to watch.

-The Cute-Yet-Ever-So-Demanding Little Couple who thought they could get a bulk discount for mailing a certain number of packages and purchasing all their packaging materials from the post office.

-The Second Blue-Haired Lady who considered her trip to the post office to be a huge social event. The outfit was immaculate, the hair and makeup were perfect, and I SWEAR she did that 'princess' wave to several people as she waited in line.

-Mr. Plaid Shorts, knee-high socks, and white, WHITE walking sneakers who spent five minutes deciding between the Santa Stamps and the Virgin Mary Stamps. No one notices the stamps!

Anyway, thirty minutes later when I was finally first in line, I overheard one postal worker say to another, "I don't know why more people don't use the new self-serve mailing center in the lobby."

((Ummmm, perhaps because someone placed it behind a group of artificial ficus trees????))

Friday, December 03, 2004

Conversation With Santa Claus

Me: I think he's going to cry.

Santa: Oh, Ho, No!!!! He won't cry!!!!

Me: I think he will.

Santa: Oh, Ho!!! No, he won't!!! How old is he?

Me: He's 10 months.

Santa: Oh, Ho!!! They never cry at that age!!!!

Me: Really?

Santa: Oh, HO, Ho!!! No! They don't cry until 18-24 months!!!

(At this point it starts to bother me that he is beginning all his sentences with "Oh, Ho!!" Is he extra jolly, or is he calling me a Ho? And he needs to stop using so many exclamation points when he speaks - he's going to scare the kid!!!!!!!!!)

Me: They don't? I think he's going to cry.

Santa: Oh, Ho!!! Trust me!! I've had a lot of experience with kids!!!!

Me: (passing the little Guy over to him) Okay....

Little Guy:

Baby's First Christmas...From Little Guy's Perspective

The other night I ate all my dinner, Mommy made her special spinach and cheese ravioli from a jar. I ate a lot, but then smeared it all over my hair and stuffed cheese in my ears. Mommy gave me a bath then put me in my cozy jammies. Mommy, Daddy, and I went for a walk like we always do after my bath. When we got back it was dark, so Mommy gave me a bottle and rocked me like she always does. Then I went to bed and fell asleep, like I always do.

I don't know why, but I woke up a little while later. I heard my brothers and sister talking, and I didn't want to be in my room all by myself, so I cried and my Daddy got me up.

He took me out in the family room - that's where everyone was. I smiled at them one by one. Then I noticed something.

Holy crap! There was a tree in our house - a huge one with white lights all over it!! I was looking at it and everyone was looking at me, then my Daddy turned off all the lights in the house. Everyone was still looking at me like I was supposed to do something, but I didn't know what to do.

So I cried.

The next day the tree was still there. No one was really paying any attention to it, so I just ignored it. I kept busy by pulling things off shelves and wrapping myself in electrical wires and eating the dog food, just like I always do. At the end of the day I had my dinner/bath/walk/bottle and went to bed like I always do.

A few hours later I woke up again. I don't know why, but I just cried until my Mommy got me and took me out in the family room - that's where everyone was.

It was the tree again. Not only was it still there and covered in white lights, but now it also had multi-colored blinking lights all over. Daddy turned off the lights in the house again (why does he keep doing that??) and everyone was looking at me (why do they keep doing that??). I didn't know what I was supposed to do.

So I cried.

The next morning when I woke up, the tree was still there. I don't know exactly what happened, but it was now covered in toys. Lots of toys. I tried to touch one and everyone laughed.

So I cried.

I decided to stay away from the tree for a while. Mommy put me in my walker and I busied myself by running over everyone's toes and dragging the dog's dish along with me.

The tree thing still bothered me. I slowly scooted my walker up to the tree and reached out to touch it. The green things felt pokey and I tried to taste one, but couldn't get it in my mouth. The lights were warm, but I wasn't able to taste those either. I stretched really hard and tried to pull one of the toys off, but I couldn't reach it.

Then I had a brainstorm

I scooted back really, really far in my walker, almost all the way across the room. Then I ran really fast straight toward the tree and rammed it as hard as I could.

Success! I had penetrated enough of the green stuff that I could now reach straight up and pull some of the toys off!!

That was fun for a while, until Mommy moved the toys up higher.

Anyway, tonight when I was in the middle of my dinner/bath/walk/bottle routine, I heard Mommy and my sister talking about me. Something about tomorrow morning and a mall and Santa Claus, whatever that means.

I'm guessing I'll cry.