Gaga For Lulu

I will state a disclosure: It was not her fault!

With that being said, I have frickin’ violet hair. I am a natural redhead, pretty, not too orange. I usually get blond highlights in the summer and in the winter highlights and lowlights with a darker red. My skin gets so damn pasty it will burn your eyes if you look directly at it. My hair has gotten unusually light for being March, so I decided to have it touched up with some additional lowlights.

OMG, it turned flippin’ pink. I think Edward Scissorhand’s official comment was, “Oh shit, what the hell, I have never seen this happen before, your hair has pink streaks, where the blond used to be”. What did she just say? Pink. Oh shit, I have to go and work in poopy paradise tomorrow. She covered my whole head with some type of darker red to try to make it better, but it turned a lovely Barney shade of violet. And that is where it stayed.

I can see it now, “Hi, I’m your RN, I will take care of you today till 7:30 PM”. “The hell you will, you pink haired freak!” Oh yeah, its gonna be good. You know there are fluorescent lights too, better to see my ungodly hair with.

Eddie, Scissorhands that is, said she can do a lift or something on Friday, to strip the hair color and then dye it back to my original copper red hair. Why does this bull honky have to happen to me? The Big Guy could do all he could not to laugh. At least I didn’t have a breakdown over it. But oh, I hate it!!!

The Big Guy scared the shit out of me last night. We had a relatively easy bedtime. The Tribe was asleep by 7:45 PM. I know, what the hell? Beats the bageezies out of me! Then of course I watched a very painful American Idol. The Big Guy and I jockeyed for a better position to control the laptop, we desperately need a second one due to the fact that we are both lazy and won’t go to the basement to use the “stationary” computer.

What is up with that Sanjaya kid anyway? I don’t even know if I spelled it correctly. He is h.o.r.r.i.b.l.e.!! I like that Doolittle lady, but boy, is she goofy looking. I am getting off the topic, ok, come back to me Kendra.

The Big Guy. As you read, he was sick with belly thing over the weekend. I was a little unsympathetic, but come on, I puke with a kid on each hip and manage to make it through the day. Whole other subject. He complained that his chest hurt when he was praying to the porcelain god. I dismissed all of his complaints, I hear too many to care!

Getting back to last night, we were in bed and The Big Guy jumps up and is grabbing his chest, visibly upset, and shaking. OK, I am a cardiac nurse, so I start interrogating like a pro. Why, what, where, how long, what’s it’s level? He tried to answer my questions, didn’t even put up a fight. Now, I was really worried. “Do you want to go to the hospital?” “No, I will the doctor in AM.”

After an hour the pain was much less and he was able to lay back down, now sensibly I know he is a thirty something, ex athlete, strong man with no family history. But, holy shit, he is 6′6″ and there is the cardiac hypertrophy thing and all that, as well as increased risk for blood clots. And he..is..my..husband!!!

Dude, I have become really fond of him over the last 13 years. I was crying, yeah crying last night. I know I care about him and love him and all that good crap, but I am truly and madly head over heels in LOVE with him.

It is kinda’ sad that it takes something scary to make you reflect, with all the bullshit of everyday life and all. I guess that gave me a look into the minds of my patients spouses. I have always been the “sick” one, never The Big Guy.

So, I guess I won’t make fun of any of my patients wives or hubbies tomorrow, no matter how freakin’ annoying they are. LOL!!!!

M3: “Why is your butt so big, I can play on it like a drum, boom, boom, boom. It has dimples like sissy’s cheeks?”

The Babe: “Oooh, your ghina is yucky, why dere hair like dat? It is naaaasssty.”

M3: (staring at the ol’ taters) “Why are your nipplees so big, they look like pepperoni, but pinker. I didn’t eat out of them, right? They are nasty.” (making a face of total disgust)

Yeah, you guessed it, we all jumped in the shower this AM. My lazy ass didn’t give them a bath last night. I love the fact that I have turned into this gross, appalling science experiment. You know, I would love to tell those little snot faces that mommy was a division 1 athlete and used to have a strong, muscular, athletic body, but they would just stare at me is disbelief. It is kinda like when they look at our wedding album and say, “Mommy, you used to be sooo pretty”. Little bitch asses!!

At least M3 told me I had pretty hair, like a princess!!!!! LOL!

“I love The Big Guy, I love The Big Guy, I love the Big Guy.” I am repeating this over and over so what I have to share with you doesn’t alter my admiration for him. Yeah, he has been annoying, gross, and cute all in the same day. Now, be gentle, he has been sick and doesn’t feel well at all, puke and poops. He is a shell of a man, all greasy haired, stinky breathed, pale faced, smelly assed with pants that could walk on their own!

This is a list of 5 quotes that The Big Guy has used in the last 24 hours:

1. Cute one- “Damn, you are the TMZ of diabetes, I am proud of you, you interviewed a D list celebrity, I haven’t even done that yet.” He was trying to make me feel good, he is so damn adorable some times. He even bragged about me to his mom.

2. Annoying one- “My belly still hurts, I still don’t feel well.” That is the nineteenth time he has said that now, I..don’t..care!

3. Gross one- “My shit is water still, do you want to see it?” Now that is freakin’ sexy.

4. Annoying one- ” I think I lost 10 pounds, yeah, the scale says it, do you see a difference?” Hell, I have been trying to lose 10 pounds now for 2 months and that bitch goes and throws up for 2 days and drops the weight like nothing. Now, I am pissed to shit. He will pay for this!!!!

This is the big kahuna, the big mamma, the mother of all disgusting, gross phrases. My Big Guy who stands 6′6″ and is a muscular 250 lbs says to me:

5. “I just farted and it was a wet one, I think I shit my pants. Oh, wet fart, I need to change my underwear.” Damn skippy, he used the word wet fart. By the way, this is the second occurrence of such over last 2 days. OMG, he is so damn gross!!!!!

How many days will it take to get that picture out of my head? Ain’t no lovin’ going on in this neck of the woods any time soon. That sick bastard!

Here’s the deal, I have been up for almost 40 hours. I worked night-shift at the ol’ poopy paradise on Saturday night. I didn’t get a nap on Saturday afternoon because we took The Tribe to the circus. The Big Guy laughed and smiled like a child, very cute indeed! We blew about $150 there, not including the tickets. Are we suckers or what? The things we do for the little snot noses.

The Big Guy called me at work around 9 PM, he was moaning and carrying on, “I am so sick, I am throwing up and feel soooo bad. The girls are still up and everything hurts”. “And just what the shit do you want me to do about it, I am at work, I am sorry you feel bad.” I know, where’s the compassion? I used it all up on my really sick patients, sorry.

This means that I did not get to sleep today. The Big Guy was in bed most of the day, that bastard. Needless to say, I had no patience with The Tribe. Why can’t they understand how tired I was today? I guess that is part of the beauty of being a kid.

So here I am, Sunday night at 10 PM and I am having a big ol’ anxiety attack. I think I am having chest pains.

Does anyone remember the show Designing Women? You know the southern women with the interior design business and the man who drove their delivery truck, Anthony. Well, I am interviewing Ms. Delta Burke tomorrow about her diabetes.

I write a diabetic blog called Diabetes Notes for b5media. Yeah, thats right, this mommy nurse gets paid to write a blog. Take that Big Guy, LOL!!! Anyway, being a nurse and having type 2 diabetes, I actually enjoy researching this topic.

I know, what kind of sick flippin’ lady likes to read about disease? This one- I am pointing to thumbs at my chest with a big cheesy smile on my tired ass face.

I…am…in…a…pickle. Do I look over the stuff for tomorow’s interview and actually prepare ahead of time, or do I go the hell to sleep and just cram it in before the day gets going in the AM? Oh, what an earth shattering decision that has to be made! LOL.

OK, official decision has been made. I just dozed off typing this, so if it is totally whacked out, have a good laugh on me. Hells yeah, I am going to sleep. Nighty night mes amis!!!

Just a liitle reminder: My time is finally here! Please click on the graphic above to vote for me on TopMomma.com. I like being on top!

It went something like this….

The Babe: Sleeping on the couch at, you guessed it 5:15 PM.

Mommy: “You want to go to Chili’s for dinner?”

The Big guy: “Are you freakin’ kidding me? She’s asleep over there.”

The Boss and M3: “Yeah, Yeah, we want to go.” ( To The Babe), “Get up, get up, get up!!!!!”

The Babe: Throwing the biggest shit fit you ever have seen. I mean, screaming, kicking and throwing some bows! Apparently she wasn’t ready to get up.

Mommy: “We are going to dinner damn it, LOL!! Get your shoes on girls.”

The Big Guy: “OMG, are you kidding me?( Loud sigh), If Mommy says she wants to go, lets go.”

The Babe: She has kicked it up a notch, she is really pulling out all the tricks!

The Boss: Hysterically crying in the middle of the kitchen floor, ” I can’t tie my shoes, I thought I knew how, I used to know how, now I can’t”. She is refusing help from us. She is sobbing, I thought she was going to throw up.

M3: “Daddy, Mommy, I am being good, right? Am I being a good listener? I am ready to go, I have my shoes and coat on.” She is looking around with a smirk on her face, enjoying her sister’s misery.

The Big Guy: “Come on, we are getting in the car.” Picks up The Babe who is still screaming and M3 follows still smiling away! Ever so gently places them in the car. He really has had an amazing amount of patience lately. Our neighbors probably think we are nuts, with all the commotion that goes on.

Meanwhile, still inside…

Mommy: “Let me help you, Daddy is in the car. I will teach you how to tie them again” The Boss is pulling her laces out of her shoes and sobbing away. I probably shouldn’t say this but, I was laughing. If you could have seen her face and the anger she had for these damn shoe laces, I just lost it.

The boss: “Fine, but I am not eating and I am going to cry the whole time”

Mommy: “OK, I don’t care, we are going to dinner as a family.” When did I turn into my Mom? LOL!!!!

A short car ride later…

The Babe has settled down but refuses to be put down, I swear she would rebirth herself is she could. M3 is still commenting on how good she is being and talking incessantly. The Boss is still carrying on about shoelaces and has now kicked her shoes completely off.

Do you think we went home? Hell no, we went in to ding dang Chili’s and ate dinner as a family damn it!!! By the way, the food sucked. Freakin’ figures!

I think I am hormonal today. I even had a good cry, thank you very much Oh The Joys (by the way, this is one of my favorite sites). Every once and a while I reflect on the birth of The Babe. It was 2 1/2 years ago and I still remember it like was yesterday! The 7 weeks that followed were so damn scary!!!

How can a women who doesn’t have any of the inside girlie parts be so ding dang emotional and hormonal, you ask? Who the hell knows? I am convinced that even after a hysterectomy us girls still get our monthly boo hoo’s. You can’t convince me other wise, partly because I have researched this topic at length and partly because I am so flippin’ bull headed.

Ok, getting back to the birth of The Babe and the days that followed. I was induced at 38 weeks or so, due to being eclamptic. I was so fortunate to deal with that with all 3 of my pregnancies. LOL. She was born at 10:10 P.M. and everything was great. She was perfect and we were moved to the mother baby unit shortly after.

By 2 A.M., I was bleeding uncontrollably in the bathroom. I remember calling to The Big Guy while I was in the bathroom, “I think you should call the nurse now, something is not right, there is too much blood”. With that there was a lot of hustle and bustle and I was put back in bed and had a good ol’ manual evacuation of, for lack of better words, “stuff”. How freakin’ fun.

You want to know the really funny part? They still sent me home the next day. Thats right, my hematocrit was in the toilet and I couldn’t close my legs due to 2 hands being shoved up there right after giving birth. Not to mention the amount of cramping I had due to having prolonged pitocin for 24 hours, thanks to the good ol’ bleed.

I am going to share with you an interesting fact: redheads bleed more than anyone else, also we have an increased tolerance for pain. I have now been told this by at least 10 doctors and it is in most labor and delivery nursing text books. Kinda funny, huh? Go ahead, Google it.

To make a very long story short, I was readmitted to the hospital 4 days after coming home with my new baby. Yup, you guessed it, I was hemorrhaging again. In the 7 weeks that followed, I was in the hospital a total of 32 days, had a total of 4 D&C’s, 2 uterine arterty embolectomies, by the way I was the first to ever have one of these procedures at this institution, many and many units of blood and finally a total hysterectomy (that means I am in cited in medical research, I can just picture the big ol’ picture of my “down there” parts, I am so proud).

Thank the sweet lord that number 1, I didn’t die, I was quite close a couple times, and number 2, that I had the eneormous support system that we were surrounded with. The Big Guy was a full time worker, full time daddy, full time worrier while I was in the hospital, but he always held it together when he came to visit me. He even brought The Babe to see me a couple of times, which kept me smiling. It was so damn hard to see your kids maybe 3 times in a month, and one was just a wee little baby.

Oh, I cried so much. My mom and mother in law kept the house running and kids taken care of. My close friends helped out at the house and took turns visiting me, even stayed in the room when my big ass got a bath. God bless them! Their eyes were probably burned by my flesh! My dad came and sat with me almost everyday and never showed a look of panic or urgency. Knowing what I know now, that was a big job.

I know, I should probably see a therapist due to the fact that I still think about this every once in awhile. I do think that this has actually made our family so much stronger though. I know I am sarcastic, crass and even seem ungrateful with some of my writing, but believe me, when I look at my kids and think, “what if”, I say a big thank you to the guy upstairs. I could have missed out on all this craziness! And damn it, this is my craziness!!!

Tonight, as I am sitting here contemplating whether or not to eat dinner, I fed The Tribe left overs earlier, I am pondering a plethora of things. Oh dingity dang, what is wrong with my brain that I wonder such questions?

1. Why is my middle boy dog licking my oldest girl dog’s “ghina”?

2. Why does my husband talk in a high pitched, twangy ass voice when imitating one of our dogs (does he know dogs don’t talk)?

3. Why was school cancelled today for 2 inches of snow?

4. Why do my kids get a kick out of Mrs. Crazy, Mean Mommy?

5. Why does The Babe pee while standing in front of the toilet (her little ass is 2 inches away from the toilet)?

6. Why does the circus cost $200 for a family of 5 (thats right, 200 freakin’ dollars)?

7. Why did the cleaning lady that I fired yesterday leave me 2 phone messages to call her today (oh hell no)?

8. Why does M3 make a, “your so damn gross and disgusting, I can’t believe your my mommy face”, every morning while I am getting dressed?

9. Why does “together” time last less than 15 minutes (remember the days…)?

10. Why is my nephew obsessed with my “down there” hair (he came in the bathroom while I was tinkling last week, and I am a red head, he is scarred for life)?

And finally….

10. Why don’t I have a prescription for Xanax?

So sorry it has been a while, but life can really get hairy sometimes. I tried to write yesterday a total of five times. Yeah, it was one of those days where I wondered who invaded my body and took over with crazy, irrational thoughts. I think I was totally flippin’ nuts yesterday.

Mrs. Nice Mommy was apparently sent on vacation and Mrs. Mean, Bitchy, No filter in the Mouth, Yelling, Maniac Women visited! Yup, that would still be me I am referring to.

I beg you not to judge my crazy ass, it is not everyday that I carry on like this!

The Boss woke up yesterday writhing about in pain on the floor, crying hysterically and moaning that her belly felt like it was going to explode. “I feel like I want to throw up, but can’t. It hurts behind my belly button and on my right side. It hurts soooooo bad mommy!”

As you know, I am a nurse so the immediate red flag went up. Ding, ding, ding, she has appendicitis. I honestly have only seen The Boss react like that one other time when her arm was dislocated. So, I did what any crazy, irrational parent would do. Against my better judgment, I rushed her to the doctors office. Oh hell, I became one of those parents that we make fun of at work, jumping the gun and going into crisis mode over nothing.

When we arrived at the doctors, The Boss decides she is going to read books and play with the puzzles. OK, maybe she is feeling a little better. I should have just gotten up and canceled the damn appointment and gone home, but remember I was irrational and nuts yesterday! We waited for our turn.

The doctor takes one look at The Boss, who is telling jokes and laughing by now, and gives her one simple command. “Jump up on the table.” She does. And with that, the doctor starts laughing at my parental judgment. “I know as a nurse you know that if she had appendicitis she would not be able to jump like that. I think she just has a belly virus. You might have over reacted this morning. With three kids, I would expect a little more conservation.”

Oh hell no! “Well, she was acting a bit different this morning and I just wanted to be sure there was nothing majorly wrong. I am so sorry if we wasted your time( did I just say that?).” Once again, whoever invaded my body stole the mouth filter that is usually in place.

I think I yelled at The Boss all the way home. Why did Mrs. Nice Mommy have to take a vacation yesterday when my oldest pookie bear didn’t feel well. At this point in the morning I tried to make a fresh start on the day. Yeah, that didn’t work!

I called the house cleaner, to officially fire her. The conversation turned into a twenty minute debate. What the shit? Why did she have to pick a fight? That filter thing in my mouth I was referring to earlier was officially gone for the day! Mrs. Crazy Pants, aka me, let her know what I though about her comments and that she was over priced, $110 dollars, and that I felt that she was unprofessional.

I didn’t just stop there. When she tried to comment about my kids bathroom, I lost it. “They are kids, little kids. I pay you $110 freakin’ dollars every 2 weeks. Your job is to clean. Clean with no comments. I am so sick of you sharing your opinion with me. I don’t care what you have to say, just come and clean. Why can’t you handle that?” Oh shit. I can not believe I went there.

If all that psychoness wasn’t enough, Mrs. Mean Mommy screamed all afternoon. Now, at times it was warranted. For the second day in a row The Babe and M3 played in the toilet. The babe emptied a whole box of kleenex’s in the toilet, yes I was within viewing distance. Wait, thats not it. M3 took a big ol’ poop right on top. So, guess what I had to do? Thats right, dig around poop to pull out the kleenex’s.

Needless to say, I was a maniac, screaming and yelling with irrational threats. “Sit in your room for the rest of the day with nothing, no tv, no books, no toys and no talking!” I ask you, what rational women would say such things? That damn crazy person who invaded my body was going to pay for this. Nanny McPhee , where the hell are you? LOL

Off to the library in late afternoon. See, I told you they were empty threats. I rewarded their horrible behavior with a trip to get books. That would be Mrs. Nice Mommy try to make an appearance. The Tribe was well behaved, No books were pulled down, no loud screaming, no fighting and no one asked us to leave. Success!

The Big Guy did go with us, maybe has a calming effect on The Tribe right now. He has been in this calm, understanding, happy mood for a week. What the hell? I guess this is why our marriage works, we balance each other out. When I am crazy, he is sane and the opposite.

By the way, there was a family at the library that smelled like they had eaten onions for dinner. Did The Tribe keep quiet on this one? Well, kind of. The Babe did say, “Somepin’ smells nastee. Go brush their teef”. She said it quietly enough that I was the only one that heard, and I almost peed a little from laughing so hard.

I think this was the turning point for Mrs. Nasty, Crazy Mommy. Miraculously, Mrs. Nice Mommy returned. I didn’t say my rational thoughts returned, just that I wasn’t going to become hoarse from screaming any more.

After the library we went to Target to get the kids a hot dog, so nutritious, and cleaning supplies. Ughhh! As we are pulling in the parking lot, who pulls behind us? The cleaning lady. You have got to be shittin’ me, I didn’t even know she lived in the area. I say to The Big Guy, “Can we wait in the car a few minutes”?

After much laughter he did say yes. I was convinced she saw us and was following us. “Is she going in yet?” I even contemplated just going home, but The Big Guy forced my rational self to return. Thank gosh!

We got out of the caravanarama and went in the store. To be honest, I was watching over my shoulder and looking feverishly back and forth for any sign of her. We loaded up the cart with cleaning supplies and of coarse my source of news, an In Touch magazine. Yup, that is one step below people magazine, but I don’t give a flying hoot!

Did the register really say $150? Holy shitballs! I was second guessing that whole cleaning lady thing. No, I will stay strong.

To top of the lovely night, I lost $250 in circus tickets, blamed The Big Guy a hundred times, and The Babe hung out in our room till 10:00. I heard the garage doors open at 10:30. It was the Big Guy rumaging through our nasty trash cans looking for the tickets.

I found the tickets this morning in the cravanarama. I had put them there on Friday afternoon. I did try to make right and call The Wonderful, Lovely, Handsome, Calm Big Guy to let him know it was me who misplaced them. I get Mrs. Nice Mommy And Wife points for that, right?