No, I'm not dead...nor have I forsaken you.

So its been a while since you have heard from me.  Trust me, it hurts me more than it does you.  

We went to a family reunion on my mom's side last weekend, but alas - I.have.no.time. to blog about it. Hmph. 

I can't embellish on the details, but I've been super busy at work AND at home & it has left me no time to allow you to stalk me.  Bleh.  

Believe me when I say the next time you hear from me, you're gonna have your socks blown away...

(Uhm, that's a teaser so you don't forget about me...)  You will have more to read than you'll know what to do with.  And I don't want to hear any complaints, mmmm kay?!

Thanks to the stalkers who have wondered where I've been.  Ya'll are great to a gal who loves attention...

4 birthdays & princess gets a tattoo

Let me explain the birthday situation in on our family to you.  When Lora started having kiddos, she must've decided to get all the birthdays outta the way at once.  First was Erin...she's Sep 2nd.  Then Derik came along & he's Aug 14th.  Then Brady rounded out the trifecta by being born on Aug. 27th.  If you look at the calendar...you will see that that is 3 birthdays in 2 weeks.  Sigh.  That's a whole lotta birthdays!  

However, when poor little Cole was added to the mix, he was born in June.  I'm not sure what Lora was thinking?  I mean-that really screws everything up!  

Our summer has been incredibly crazy & I know Lora celebrated ALL of her childrens birthdays, but we were not able to actually see the kids on (or even close to) their birthdays.  We gave Cole his gift about 2 weeks after his birthday this summer.  He got a gift...no one else did.  He's 9...can you figure out where  I'm going with this?

We were finally able to go over to Brian & Lora's last Wednesday night (yea, I'm behind...) & give all the gifts I've had piling up.

Erin & the girls are here & Madelyn's birthday is in July.  She is now 3.years.old.  (I'm not gonna lie, I couldn't remember how old she was...I couldn't decide between 2 or 3.  I have too many people to keep track of.  I DID decide on 3 before buying presents.  You know how they all have those silly age limits...)  She got to open her gifts first...

To try & stop Payton from being left gift-less (she's almost 2, c'mon..I'm not completely heartless...) & resorting to opening Madelyn's presents...

 

I got her a baby doll of her own... And what you don't see in these pics are little Cole...being mad at me because, 'I didn't get a present!'  Sigh...

We got Madelyn some little dolls & lots of Disney Princess stuff... a puzzle, a sticker book (Erin wasn't real happy with me on that one!) & tattoo's...

Derik was next.  He's 19.  Gulp.  We got him an itunes gift card, a necklace & a leather bracelet.  No worries - it was all very manly jewelry.  He seemed to like it.

On to Brady... He's 15 now.  Wow, he was just born like yesterday!  Gone are the days when you get the kiddos little Hot Wheels & monsters & they're happy.  They're men now.  They want cool stuff.  Greaaaat...  We got Brady an itunes card (always a hit!), a U of L lanyard thingie & a U of L koozie.  For cokes...not beer...yet...

Last but not least... Erin.  She's now in her mid-20's... 25!  We got her a scarf & a new PINK watch.  This girl hated pink.  Didn't care about anything pink.  Then she had 2 girls...whom she drenched in pink.  

Now, pink's not so bad...

Madelyn's going through a phase right now where she doesn't like men.  Sadly this phase will pass as she gets older.  Of course, B-rad wants her to talk to him & stuff but she won't.  I devised a plan in which I thought she'd love to sit on Uncle B-rad's lap: giving him a Disney themed tattoo... 

(Can you see in his face he's like, 'What 'chu talkin' 'bout, Willis?!")

But B-rad is always a good sport (& after I begged...), he relented!   I let Madelyn pick out which tattoo he got.  You know, so she would be all like, 'Wow, B-rad's cool.  I picked out his tattoo...!'

A princess for a princess.  How fitting...

Sadly, my plan failed.  Madelyn wouldn't even fist pump him when it was over...

But Cole?  Oh, poor little 'I didn't get any presents' Cole was all.over.that.tattoo. 

So I said, "lets tattoo Cole!" (Like I said, I'm not completely heartless...)  Madelyn picked his out as well.  The tea pot from Beauty & the Beast.  This is Cole's 'act tough with your sweet old English lady tea pot tattoo' face.

Even though Erin wanted to wait until the house wasn't full of people to do tattoo's, I ruined that for her. 

I wanted Madelyn to get one so her & Uncle B-rad would match.  

She picked out the chick from Aladdin.  Jasmine?!

She's also suffering from a bashful stage.  She wouldn't let me take a pic of her hand...so I held it down like any self respecting Great Aunt.  (See my big rock of a diamond & my crackle nails?!)

Then she decided she wanted just one more on her other arm.  This time she chose one of the fairy thingies from Sleeping Beauty.

And we tried, yet again, to have her let B-rad hold her.

She had a weak moment & surrendered...but not very long.  Look at that body language...

It was time to leave & since a 3 year old hadn't defeated me enough already, I wanted her to take pics with Uncle B-rad & Uncle Cole in all their tattoo'd glories.  Yea, she wasn't havin' it.  Hmph...

Dairy Queen is good for nothing except blizzards...

This months blog off topic is our first jobs.  

When I finally became 16 & got my drivers license & had freedom like I had never, ever know...mom drug me kicking & screaming to Dairy Queen to get a....a....a j-o-b.  GASP.  

I hated it there.  HATED IT.  The managers were dorks.  (All these years later now that I'm even cooler-I still know they were dorks...)  My job was to work the 'front line'. (That's fancy DQ talk for taking your order.)  We were never, ever allowed to not be busy.  If we didn't have customers, we were expected to be scurrying around filling the straw & napkin dispensers, re-filling ketchup, sweeping the dining room or emptying trash.  None of these things excite me.  Yawn...

This is a perfect example of the managers being dorks:  If you found a tray while taking out the trash, they made the biggest deal out of it.  Like it was the greatest thing since a Reese's blizzard.  Seriously...they were dorks.

Perhaps the worst part was making the stupid ice cream cones with the swirl on top.  Think that happens by chance?  Oh no, no, no people.  The super dorks at DQ want that swirl to be PER-FECT.  And guess who couldn't get that swirl right to save.her.life?  Me!  They even made me do the most degrading thing...it's almost unspeakable...but for you, I will re-live it...

When we were slow, they would force me at gunpoint have me make cones to practice my swirl.  THEN I would have to walk around the dining room asking the old people (because who else is at DQ during the work day?!) "Sir, I'm new & practicing making the legendary swirl on this stupid ass cone.  Since I currently have no other skills to get me through life & my swirl sucks therefore this cone can't be sold to the average consumer - would YOU like this cone?!"  Oh, the humanity...

Hurricanes all around... (& there was a wedding in there too...)

One of the guys in the motorcycle gang got married over the weekend.  It was a fancy schmancy affair at the Louisville Country Club.  Butterfly was a co-best man.  (Ginmommy-butterfly in a tux...can you hardly stand it?!)  I don't know how many weddings you've been to that had a string quartet...because I haven't been to ANY!

After the ceremony, they had a cocktail hour.  They also had a full.open.bar.  Let me explain to those of you who are like me & don't really drink:  This means any kinda drink you want.  Not just beer. (Bleh.) And not just wine. (eh, kinda bleh...white zen is good...)

 We hung out with the other gang members there.  There were little dudes passing out hors d'oeuvres.  When he would walk by he would say, "Would anyone like an hors d'oeuvre?" & we would pounce.  One thing they had were these teeny tiny iron skillets with hot browns in them.  Someone said, "did you go to Cracker Barrel & get those tiny skillets?!"  

Turns out - you can take the kids outta the country, but you can't take the country outta the kids...

 Rhonda discovered a fabulous drink called a Hurricane.  Super yummy...& free.  We were all so excited over the free drinks we wanted our picture taken!  (We even had the guys drinking them before the night was over...) Butterfly knows I hate photobombs...

Railing had given us ALL (& the DJ) STRICT instructions that the Chicken Dance was NOT to be played.  So what do YOU think was the ONE thing we all wanted to do?  Yup, the chicken dance.  We made it our mission - our only goal for living, to find a way to get it played.  Someone in the room didn't know what it was (really?!  I'm as white as they come & even I know what the chicken dance is) so Butterfly demonstrated.  (Butterfly led the charge to have the chicken dance played.  He went to the dj while he was setting up & asked him to play it.  The dj said, "SURE!"  SCORE!)

We got these fleur de lis wine bottle thingies with our name & table number on them.  Yea-we had assigned seats.  (See the bottom of my hurricane glass at the top?!)

 Centerpieces on the table.  The table number was in this vase of water.  On the other side was a picture of the bride & groom.  Gag...

 When it was time to introduce the bridal party-these guys did NOT let me down.  Some of them came out dancing.  Butterfly came out with a bouquet.  

 And they were overcome...  

with their feelings of love for one another...

Mr & Mrs Railing.

 Things kinda got crazy after this.  Rhonda is perky & bubbly anyway, but when she's drinking, wow.... she gets louder & perkier...

 What can you say besides pretty girls, really?!

 This was our fancy schmancy dinner.  Seabass, filet mignon, asparagus & roasted potatoes.  I could've died happy with a plate full of those potatoes.

 B-rad & me

 I didn't eat all of my filet & Shauna & B-rad decided to fight each other for it.  (Like I said, kids & the country...) (Notice the hurricane glasses?)

Cute idea, huh?  Bobblehead on the cake table.

 Bride & groom with the cake.

 Our friend, Hoosier, was the other co-best man.  He worked on his toast & even wrote it down to not forget anything.  He gave a funny, yet sweet speech about the couple.  Then it was Butterflies turn.  And as of last weekend, Butterfly didn't have a toast prepared - at all... He did finally write something (the day before...), but then decided to 'wing it' during his toast.  God.help.us.all. 

He ended up doing a pretty good job.  Funny, yet sweet like Hoosiers...

I was happy with it.  You just never know with the Butterfly...  

(He got hold of the video camera during cocktail hour.  And when we all realized he was gone...& so was the camera...we all died laughing.  I refused to watch the footage...I just know it involved his butt...)

Butterfly even stopped to pose with me.  Man, I'm short... (See the Hurricane?  At least I left mine at the table...)

 Since the co-best men could breath a sigh of relief, they started to get a little crazy...  Kids & the country... (Male hurricane alert!  Butterfly has one AND the guy on the right has a Hurricane too....but he got it in a 'manly' glass so he didn't feel so girly.  Butterfly has no problems being girly...)

 Rhonda is crazy about her cake.  She had a piece of vanilla (which she bugged the server for because he had given her chocolate...kids & the country...) & B-rad pretended to try & grab it.  She got a knife from Butterfly & I KNOW she would've cut B-rad... This girl is serious about some cake.  

After cake they had  a few more formalities before we could break out the chicken dance.  (Yes, we checked with the dj several times as to when it was gonna happen.  We wanted to be ready!)  When it was time, the dj told Michael & Lara to come to the dance floor because we had a special surprise for them.  I wish I could've gotten a pic of Railings face.  He was totally perplexed.  He looked at me like, "What.the.hell?!" & I just blew him a kiss & smiled!  When he realized it was only the chicken dance, he seemed ok with it.  (Don't forget...with these guys you just never know what could happen...don't forget about the missing video camera with Butterfly footage...)  

Then it was time to really put on our dancing shoes.

B-rad saw this thing on "Jackass" where they go up to people & do like a dance thingie around them, so he kinda got this started.  I heard someone say, "lets get Lara!!!" & the poor girl didn't have a chance!

Railing was next.

This was our table when the night was over:  hurricane's everywhere. I don't know what was in it.  All I remember is the bartender saying, "Rum rum rum" when anyone would ask...   

Rectal WHAT?!

For those of you who just happened to click on this link because of the interesting title, I applaud your nosiness.   

For my loyal stalkers...THIS is Sparky's story...

I have told you before, of the 2 faithful & loyal steeds, Sparky is my wild child.  He's perfectly happy being outside.  Frolicking through the bean field. Chasing (& sometimes killing, but not on purpose...) small woodland creatures.  He doesn't care about being inside. Nope, no siree - not my Sparky... 

He would never dream of lounging around on the back of the couch like Sonny does...

 

 He would rather die than lay on my bed & roll around like Sonny does...

 He wouldn't be caught DEAD laying on the bed on top of a freshly 'dryer tossed to get the wrinkles out 'cuz I don't iron' shirt like Sonny does.  

You can imagine my surprise when I opened the door last Monday night to feed the dogs (Lilly was still with us then... tear...) & Sparky ran into the house?  UHM, ok?!  I noticed he looked 'funny'.  A mom just knows these things, ya know?  His tale looked wet underneath.  Hhhmmmm?  I said, "B-rad, something is wrong with Sparky!"  Crickets...

I walked over to him & noticed something near his bottom.  (Listen-most of you are moms...you're just gonna have to listen to this gross stuff...)  I thought maybe he had gone to the bathroom & didn't get it all off (if ya know what I mean...)  As I examined closer - I saw something pink sticking out of his back leg near his booty.  "B-rad, I REALLY think something is wrong with Sparky."  Crickets....

I got a wet paper towel & chased Sparky's butt (literally) around the house to kinda 'wipe' it to see what was up.  Gag - I know.  I didn't know if he had been hurt or what.  When I got hold of him, I knew it wasn't poop, but it wasn't bleeding.  Double gag.  So I immediately wanted to take him somewhere & B-rad said, "No place is open tonight.  If it's still like that tomorrow when I get home, I'll take him to the vet."   I really didn't like that answer, but what was I gonna do?  I put him back outside & started to feel guilty.  A bit later I opened the door again to check on him.  I couldn't find him.  Ruh roh.  I yelled & yelled, "SPARKY!!!!".  I came back into the house & there he laid on the rug.  Man, he's stealth.  He must've ran in as SOON as I opened the door.  My wild child...who hates the inside...this is a problem... We decided to put him in the basement until the morning & I knew I would take him to the vet before I went to work.

Picture it:  I'm at the vet.  Sparky is in the carrier.  I'm crying.  And I'm telling the guy at the counter, "I don't have an appointment.   Suf suf.  But my kitty is hurt.  Suf suf.  I don't know what's wrong with him.  Suf suf."   I dropped him off & came to work.  I worried & worried so much I got a fever blister.  Bleh.

The vet called in the afternoon & said (in a soft, monotone voice ending everything with 'okkkkk?' ), "Sparky has a rectal prolapse.  This is a very serious injury, ok?  Basically what has happened is his intestines are coming out of his rectum, ok?  This is a very serious & we need to operate on him today, ok?  He has about 3 inches of tissue hanging out of his rectum & that tissue will start to die soon, ok?  He will have to be on stool softeners & medication, ok?  It will be imperative that he stay hydrated, ok?  This could happen again & this is a very serious, potentially life threatening condition, ok?"  

Hold up - WHAT?!  So I'm crying & asking questions because my wild child does NOT do medication.  I also asked how much it would cost (because if it's thousands of dollars there's no way...) & told her I need to call my hubby.

So I call B-rad.  And I'm still crying.  And I tell him what's happening.  And I was hysterical.  I told him how much it would cost & my concerns about the medication & told him, "YOU have to make this decision!  I can't do it!  YOU have to decide.  YOU YOU YOU!"  (Told you I was hysterical...)

So B-rad decided to have them do the surgery.  She called me Tuesday evening to say everything went fine. We could pick Sparky up on Wednesday before 6.   He had to wear one of those collar thingies because they had to 'put a suture' in his rectum to hold his intestines in & they didn't want him getting it out.  

Triple Gag.  

And THIS was the goody bag they sent him home with.  The green stuff on the left is stool softener.  The box in the middle with the lovely depiction of intestines with the red dot indicating distress is a paste (that looks like chocolate toothpaste) to help lube everything up.  We have to wait 1 hour after the other medications to give him that.  The bottle on the right has pills in it.  I don't know what they're for, but he hates the pills & paste.  Greaaaaaatttt...

 Another side effect of his rectal distress is that he has to stay inside.  He wasn't suppose to be running around or be stressed.  This should be wonderful...

After a few days, he began to realize that being indoors was just part of his reality now.  

I had a box that was  under the coffee table (because I was too lazy to throw it away...) & he took a real liking to it.  He would just lay in that box & sleep.

   I caught him mid-yawn.  Apparently he's not getting enough rest...

 He had to go back to the vet last Friday for his 2 day post-op check.  Everything looked good except my wild child had chewed out his suture.  Nice.  Even with that collar, he's so nimble & thin he was able to get to his booty.  She told me to, "watch him closely over the weekend to make sure that the tissue didn't start coming back out, ok?"  Really?  So I spent most my weekend watching Sparky's a**.  Hmph...

We went back to the doctor yesterday for yet ANOTHER check.  (Told ya this was serious.)  They gave him more fluids & told me to keep watching his a**.  I could stop the paste & pills, but I needed to continue to give the stool softener & slowly ween him off that.  He even got to take off that silly collar since it served no purpose whatsoever.  Perhaps the worst of all?  He has to stay inside for the rest of this week.   Poor Sparky... He is SOOO ready to go outside.  

So far, Sparky's butt has cost around $400 with the 2 post-ops checks.  When I took Lilly there Thursday, they charged me $272 for the x-rays, medication & putting her to sleep.  Sparky does not have to go back to the vet for another check unless something happens.  That's great news...our bank account needs to recover.  I told them at the vet, "We love ya, but we don't want to have to see you again for awhile!"  Sparky became a real celebrity there.  When the vet was working on Lilly last week, she asked how Sparky was doing.  And when I took him yesterday (& he wasn't moaning & groaning in his cage & hadn't pooped all in it...yet...{he waited for the trip back home for that.}) the tech said, 'Gosh, Sparky seems to be in a good mood today!'  Yea, that's how he rolls...he's a real gem...