It burns! It burns!

Abby has what I guess you might call a "nervous stomach." She's had problems with heartburn and since 4th grade and was my spewer when she was a baby. No kidding, that kid could hit a target across the room with her projectile barfing. We tried all the expensive formulas, etc. and put her on cow's milk at 10 months out of sheer desperation. (Shhh....don't tell her former pediatrician. He'd scold us for sure.) Between 10 months and 4th grade Abby rocked along fine and dandy with a perfectly normal stomach.

4th grade, if you've been around here awhile, was the year we wanted to sell her to the gypsies, the year she developed an attitude, the year she called her teacher "dude." We're not sure if she was struck by lightning, abducted by aliens or if she just developed her own sense of self that year, but that's also the year that the worrying took its toll on her tummy. She'd been a worrier pretty much her whole life, but the worrying never had physical side effects until then. Her PA put her on Zantac syrup twice a day, though, and the heartburn and indigestion magically disappeared.

Until this morning.

This morning when she stumbled into the bathroom, rubbing her eyes, the first words she said were, "Man, I've got some serious heartburn this morning." I said she was probably just hungry, her stomach was too empty and she needed to eat. She nodded in agreement, went up front to get a banana and we all continued our morning routine. About ten minutes later, though, she literally lurched up the hall to me, her hand clutching her belly, the other groping for me. You should know that Abby is not like her younger sister who is a natural-born drama queen - Ab's quiet, understated and non-dramatic. So to see her coming at me like a dancer in Michael Jackson's Thriller video accompanied by the look on her face that immediately told me something is very wrong was disconcerting to say the least.

She laid her head on my shoulder and quietly said, "Oh Momma....it burns. Bad." After getting her to show me where it was burning (right up the middle, you know - Heartburn Avenue) I sent her to the couch where she promptly curled up, knees to her chin. And then I called my momma. Because that's how I deal with crisis. No one can advise like Momma. Mom suggested someone with more of a degre than "Dr. Mom" so I called the insurance's Nurse Advice Line where I was informed she needed to be seen TODAY if not IMMEDIATELY. That always makes one relax. She advised me to call Ab's PA and if he couldn't see her to call the Advice Line back and she'd refer us on to the ER. So I kept hitting redial until I finally got through to the PA's office where I was informed he's out of town. Well, of course he is. She made me an appointment with the office pediatrician for 2:30, but told me to take her to the ER if I felt it necessary. I had been feeling it necessary for about half an hour at that point. Eventually the burning turned into severe pain.

Abby spent the next six hours curled up in a ball in the recliner while I fretted over whether or not to take her to the ER. She ate ice chips off and on, tried some Jell-O and a few saltines, but anything other than water made her hurt again.

The pediatrician poked, prodded, pressed and then scratched his noggin in utter perplexedness. (Is "perplexedness" even a word? No? Well, I just made it a word, so use it at your leisure.) He asked if there was a family history of gall bladder problems (yes), kidney stones (yes) and/or appendicitis (no). Then he scratched his noggin some more. He checked her urine because he was leaning toward kidney stones, but it came back normal. He said he knew we'd come there for answers, but he couldn't really give us one. He took her off the Zantac, put her on Prevacid, gave her some Levsin for abdominal cramping in case any should occur, sent us home with instructions to take her to the nearest ER if she developed a fever and told her to call her PA on Thursday if she was still having pain.

I hate going to the doctor and not knowing any more than I did when I went in.

While we waited on her prescriptions to be filled we decided to go to Walmart to get Sam's birthday presents. She was hungry so I asked if she thought she could eat a grilled cheese from Sonic. She warily ate it and within an hour was writhing around in the front seat like a maggot in a meat house.

After talking to my momma, my cousin and my sister, we, the Mom Alliance, decided that if she has any more pain tonight she's going to the ER where hopefully they can run some tests and figure out why in the world my 12 year old is hurting like she is. My numerous WebMD searches have me leaning toward appendicitis or a rotten gall bladder. The fact that she eats and then has pain is my reasoning there since that's a sign of both.

Right now she's propped up in her bed like the Queen of Sheba while I listen for any sign she's awake and hurting.

Sometimes being a Mom is hard. I want to fix her. Now. Anyone out there in MomLand have any advice? Feel free to share. I welcome it.

November 11th, 2008

Dear Papa,

Two years ago yesterday we said good-bye to you and sent you on to Heaven to be with Jesus and Memaw. I still miss you just as much today as I did that final night. At that time I couldn't fathom the world without you in it, that little house on G Street without you in it or my life without you in it. I just miss you so much it hurts.

Yesterday our little town had its first Veteran's Day parade in 50 years. I hate it you missed it - you'd have gotten such a kick out of riding down Main in a Jeep with Uncle Larry and proudly reminding us all the sacrifices you and so many others made. Although for most of my life I thought of you only as a farmer, the older I got, the more I matured, I came to think of you as more things - a Christian, a soldier, a Democrat, a person that everyone liked and admired. Mostly importantly, though, you were my Papa.

Just last week Abby asked me a question that I couldn't answer. I opened my mouth to say, "Call your Papa Leo" but sadly I just said, "Honey, I don't know. If Papa was here he could tell you for sure." She nodded and said, "He was really smart, wasn't he, Momma?"

I miss your gigantic car in the driveway of the house on G Street and seeing it at the head of a lonnnnnnnng line of cars on the highway going roughly 42 mph. I miss your pointy-toed cowboy boots and your snap-front shirts and you wearing a coat in the house. I miss your wrinkly face and skinny shoulders. I miss the way you laughed. I miss the way you lit up when you saw those five grandkids come running at you. I miss the way we'd all walk into your house and almost spontaneously combust because you either had the heat cranked up to 85 in September or had the air conditioner only on fan in the middle of August. I miss the way you never felt obligated to talk if you didn't have something to say. I miss the sounds of HeeHaw or the Lawrence Welk Show coming from your house.

Most of all, though....I just miss you.

DOOM!

Now that I'm a stay-at-home momma once again I

am trying VERY hard to keep my house clean, neat, clutter-free and company-ready all the time.

With three kids, y'all, that is very hard to do. I found myself constantly picking up the kids' stuff and making a little pile somewhere in the living room and then yelling - I mean, gently reminding them - for the objects to be removed from my sight.

So one day while the little darlings were at school I got this brilliant idea. I took an old box, covered it in wrapping paper and then got out my trusty Sharpie marker - I created The Box of the Doomed.

It clearly states on the side of the box the fate of objects found inside.

Simply put - if I find it out of its place, I put it in the box of the doomed. After 24 hours, that object is destroyed. Plain and simple.

Now, instead of constantly gently reminding my children to pick up the things I've gathered throughout the day or after they've gone to bed, it just goes in the box.

Here's the really awesome part - I have yet to actually throw anything away. The kids check it in the morning before school for things I might find after they go to bed. They also check it as soon as they come in from school for things I find during the day. I'm also finding that over time, the amount of objects going into the box is less and less. Glory be, they are actually PICKING UP THEIR STUFF. Added bonus - they're looking out for each other and letting a sibling know if something of theirs is in the box.

Hey, it works for me.

Check out other Works for Me Wednesday posts over at Shannon's blog.

Four-play

I got this from my long-lost buddy, GoingLikeSixty while I was visiting over there this evening. I'm not going to tag anyone for it, but if you do it, leave a comment so I can check it out!

Four places that I go to over and over:
Church
Walmart
the kids' school
the ATM

Four people who e-mail me (regularly):
Mom
Tater
Lori
Tammy

Four of my favorite places to eat:
Mom's
El Charro
Chik Fil A
Dairy Queen

Four places I would rather be right now:
Disney World
On the Tower of Terror in Disney World
On a plane flying to Disney World
Heck, in a dang bathroom in Disney World would be fine, too.

Four TV shows I watch over and over:
Fringe
LOST
Paula's Home Cookin'
Fresh Coat (on DIY)

Four unusual things in the room I’m in:
A minnow bucket
A duck decoy
A paper turkey that has been decorated with yarn, glitter, sequins and pompoms (we celebrate Thanksgiving Diva style around here ya know)
My husband and his new laptop (Yes, my husband now owns a laptop. Yes, it's weird to see.)

Four concerts I’ve been to:
Chris LeDoux (three times!)
Garth Brooks (back in 1991 before he got really crazy famous - amazing concert)
Brad Paisley
Brooks & Dunn

Four things on my calendar:
(I could be a real smart alleck and say "dates" or "numbers" but I won't)
Forty-leven Christmas program practices
The Glenn Family Festivus Planning Meeting (aka Thanksgiving)
FLU SHOTS
Sam's birthday

Four fears:
Clowns
Spiders
Water
Heights

Four unusual things in my purse or wallet:
A straw
An asthma inhaler (I don't have asthma)
A McDonald's gift card with .32 on it (hey, it'll cover tax or something)
A pacifier (my youngest child is almost 7)

Four chores I hate doing:
Cleaning the bathroom
Dusting
Mopping
Making a bunk bed

Four favorite animals:
Possums
(Uhm.....I'm not really an animal person.....)
Biscuit
Gravy
My husband

Four speed dials on my cell phone:
Twitter
Schmoopie (that would be the husband animal in the last question)
Poison Control (having Kady as a child prompted that)
My stylist

Four places I have called home:
Rural Wyandotte/Miami, OK
Wyandotte, OK
Stillwater, OK
Rural where I live now, OK

Four websites (not blogs) I visit:
Twitter
Facebook
GoDaddy
Blogger

Four people who have been in my car:
The other four people that live in this house - Paul, Abby, Sam and Kady

Four things I am wearing:
Jeans
NEO sweatshirt
wedding ring
glasses

Four things I am looking forward to:
Christmas shopping
Payday
Selling the old van so I can actually GO Christmas shopping
Setting up our display at the Park of Lights

Four favorite types of candy:
Hershey's Kisses
Butter Rum Lifesavers
Chocolate Tootsie Pops
Whatchamacalit

Four sports teams you like:
I don't

Four things found in your fridge:
Government cheese
Leftover chicken legs
Eggs
Salsa

Four rituals (not just a task) you do every day:
Make tea (first thing I do every morning, even on the mornings I drink coffee)
Put lotion on after my shower
Put on makeup (Yes, even though I'm a SAHM I put on makeup virtually every day)
Check my email

Four things currently within reach:
My cell phone (always)
My drink (always)
A pillow
My Bluetooth adapter for the laptop

Four things you know how to cook (not bake or grill):
Chicken Tetrazzini
Macaroni and cheese (move over Kraft - mine's made with government cheese!)
Fried sweet corn (Utterly divine. The best corn you will ever eat.)
Calico Potatoes (Potato-y heaven in a skillet, y'all)

Oh the joys

I couldn't take the sound anymore. Sam was playing Playstation and making a noise that sounded like a cross between a wounded cow and a Yeti being run over by a steamroller. I try to ignore most noises the kids make repeatedly because if I didn't I'd be insane - it's really noisy in my house most of the time. But this noise was too much to ignore. I hollered from the kitchen, "Sam! You have to stop that awful noise RIGHT NOW! You're driving me nuts!"

The noise thankfully stopped and then I heard my son quietly say, "Alright, Mom. Sorry. I was just pretending to be Chewbacca singing 'Silent Night.'"

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There's been a rash of home break-ins lately; fortunately not in our immediate neighborhood, but there have been enough that it freaks me out. I hate to leave the house even to run to the convenience store these days. I know, I am easily freaked out, but I can't help it. Hey, hearing that one woman actually - unbeknownst to her - interrupted the break-in at her house and when the deputy searched her house to ease her mind found the burglar in her bedroom closet....yeah, I think I have reason to freak out.

Of course, the kids have heard the stories and we've made sure they know we're safe and that we will make sure we don't send them into the house first if it looks like we've been robbed. But only because they asked us not to. You know, because that's why we had kids - to bring us the remote and to check the house for burglars.

So when we were getting ready to leave the house this evening I had Sam leave the TV on. I didn't explain why and he didn't question me. When we got home, though, Abby asked, "Just why did you leave the TV on anyway?" I just shrugged, but she asked again, letting me know that she expected an explanation. I said, "It just makes it sound like someone's home, hon." Her eyes got wide, then she got this smug look on her face as she said, "So what you're saying is......you're a big scaredy cat.....right?" Not letting her get the best of me I just smiled and said, "Yeah. I guess. Hey, don't forget to check your closet before you go to bed. I thought I heard something in your room awhile ago."

Yes. I am evil.

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Tonight before bed Kady was reading Green Eggs and Ham to me. She was reading along normally then I noticed she was over-enunciating. Suddenly it hit me - she was imitating Sarah Palin.

I nodded and said, "So....gettin' all maverick-y on Dr. Seuss, eh, Kadybug?" She winked at me and kept on reading.

Tractor pullin' for a good cause

Awhile back I sent an excited Tweet saying that I had just gotten recognized by a reader while I was at a local Native American gaming establishment and that I may have hugged her a little too hard and quite possibly acted like a total dork. That reader was my grade school husband's current wife, Beckie, and let me just say that I really like her. She and I have emailed back and forth several times over the past few years and seeing as how I married her husband approximately 50-some times in the 2nd grade at the school carnival, we share a bond.

So when she emailed me the other day I didn't even have to think twice about helping her out.

Not long after I met Beckie face-to-face her daddy, Zane Starr, had a stroke. She's been staying with him nearly full time, helping take care of him. He doesn't have any medical insurance and bless his heart, he didn't have any house insurance and suffered damage in the May tornado. He has lived in Seneca, MO, his whole life and evidently has a lot of friends because .....

Mr. Starr's friends have rallied around him and are holding a benefit truck and tractor pull this coming Saturday, November 8th, at 3:00 at the Seneca Saddle Club arena. Beckie tells me that there are supposed to be some guys from the Outlaw Nationals there, too. If you're a truck and tractor pull fan, you know that's a good thing!

So if you're local, love tractor pulls as much as I do and want to help someone out, head out to Seneca this Saturday afternoon!

Cranky. Oh so cranky.

Reasons I have to be cranky:

* I NEVER want cereal for breakfast, but today I wanted Golden Grahams for breakfast and there was no milk.

Grrrrrrr.

* I am in charge of the church Christmas program and already am being met with "That's not how we did it last year!" and insane scrutiny over every idea I have or put out there, plus teed off teenagers who didn't get the parts they wanted and whiny teenagers who swore they wanted a speaking part but as soon as they saw the script started freaking out.

Agh!

* Our yard is a ocean of leaves right now - which is fine, I love Fall - but my vacuum cleaner is apparently going toward the light. So basically when you walk through my house now, you crunch.

Grumble

* I don't have a freakin' CLUE as to when Paul and I will find the time to set up our Park of Lights display.

Sigh

* I need my highlights/color re-done desperately, but am torn about whether the $65 is really responsible this close to Christmas.

Rassin' frassin' responsibility

* I am sick to death of mean people. I'm tired of my daughter's Middle School drama (oh, it's not bothering her in the least, she's rolling with it quite well), I'm tired of hearing that an Oklahoma blogger I admire is taking heat for her beliefs and views, I'm tired of people thinking their opinion is the only one that matters. So if you're a mean people, please stop.

Really.

* Frankly, I'm cranky that I'm so cranky. I've been this way for awhile now. I think I need a trip to Disney World.

Magic.

Won't you play with me?

Okay, so I've never done Works For Me Wednesday before, but I'm giving it a go. Lori swears it will bring scads of people to my little corner of the universe, so we'll give it a whirl. Besides, when I saw that this week's theme was toys I felt the absolute need to chime right in.

My kids are 12, nearly 10 and almost 7. We are rapidly outgrowing toys. Sometimes I feel bad that Kady isn't playing with toys like her older brother and sister did, but then I remind myself that my eternal preaching about how much I hate clutter and excess STUFF around my house may have something to do with the fact that she just doesn't play with toys. I think she might be afraid to play with them. (Kidding! She's not afraid of me in the least, just ask her.)

So here are my recommendations on toys. You know, the toys they no longer play with. (Or end sentences in prepositions with.)

Loving Family Dollhouse - Abby got one of these 12 years ago, so we are totally kickin' the dollhouse old school. Now they have the "Grand Victorian", but I think we have the Early American Right Above the Poverty Level Built in a Subdivision model. Regardless, it's "fancy" to my girls because it has stairs - to them our house would be fancy, bordering on mansion status, if we only had stairs.

The dollhouse just a few weekends ago went up into the top of Kady's closet, but as I slid it on the top shelf Kady asked, "But we can get it down on snow days, right Momma?" They just don't play with it enough anymore, not enough to merit the absolute overtaking of her room because uhm....in case you're new here, I have OCD and therefore when I get on a kick I BUY EVERYTHING THAT GOES WITH IT. We have a van, a horse-drawn carriage, a wedding archway for the bride and groom I had to have Abby so desperately wanted at age three, patio with grill, garden, treehouse, grandma, grandpa, dining room table with changeable centerpieces so even the Loving Family could celebrate Christmas in style, an entertainment center with VCR......really, I'll stop there.

For those of you who aren't compulsive, you could probably go with a lot less accessories and be fine and dandy. We've had plenty of dollhouses throughout the years, but the Loving Family was the best investment and my grandkids are gonna have a blast with it.

Rescue Heroes - Sam started playing with Rescue Heroes when he was about four and they've only been in storage for a year. He definitely outlasted the recommend age level on these guys. With clever names like Wendy Waters (firefighter), Sandy Beach (beach patrol), Billy Blazes (firefighter), Pat Pending (scientist), Jake Justice (police officer), Rocky Canyon (mountain ranger), Ariel Flyer (pilot/vet) and Roger Houston (astronaut) how could you NOT love these guys? I think what drew me to the Rescue Heroes the most was that during a time of Power Rangers who made my son into a hyperactive destroyer/karate master, the Rescue Heroes dealt out excitement without violence and there was always a positive message in every video. (Oh, did I mention that most of the characters came with a free video? Yeah, that was an awesome bonus.) And of course, my OCD went whole-hog on these as well and we, I mean my son had the Aquatic Rescue Command Center and every vehicle available. They've since gone into storage and while Paul begged, pleaded and bribed me to get rid of them, I just couldn't. I have too many memories of my little boy playing with them and hopefully someday my grandkids will oblige me by playing with them, too.

Sadly, I think the Rescue Heroes are fairly hard to find now, as my searching on the 'net has shown me today. However, eBay might be a place to look if you're interested. Don't look at my house, though - I don't share my toys. I mean, my son's toys.

Check out all of the other Works For Me posts at Shannon's site!

I'm great!

I only recently got a Facebook page (I've been a MySpacer for a few years, but I resisted Facebook because I thought I was too old.) (I probably am.) and one day a girl my sister graduated HS with left me a message congratulating me and asking if I knew I was in Oklahoma Magazine this month.

Well, no!

So I immediately went to the website and sure enough, I am listed in the group 75 Great Oklahoma Websites! And my anti-mulletedness is in the description of the site. My momma's so proud.

Please check out all the other great sites and blogs listed. A whole slew of my Okie Blogger Round-Up cohorts made the list as well. I already knew they were great and now so does everyone else!

I am honored. And apparently, I'm also great. Who knew?

Okay, that was weird

My youngest daughter, the not-quite-seven-year-old, just came up here into the dining room with a ponytail in her hair. A very good ponytail. When did she learn to DO THAT?

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I took Abby to the doctor last week for her 12-year-old checkup.

Before I go any further, let me just announce that I am 5'2" and have been since I was 13 years old. (Apparently I can only grow out, not up.)

Before the PA ever came in, the nurse took Ab out to weigh and measure her. When they were done she walked her into the exam room where I was waiting and announced that she's now 5'3" and 98 lbs. I looked at my beaming tween and said, "You suck." The nurse honestly didn't know whether to laugh or call DHS.

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The Garage Sale from Hades was held last Saturday. Tater and I worked for TWO SOLID WEEKS on that thing, keeping our kids up way later than they should on school nights, foregoing the eating of anything remotely healthy for meals and successfully ridding both of our houses of needless, useless CRAP.

I made $130.

Before the sale ended I had bought the whole crew lunch which was $30. (Balance $100)

When the sale was over I paid each of my kids $10 for helping. (Balance $70)

After we cleaned up I went to Walmart and spent $74. (Balance $-4)

I lost money on a freakin' garage sale.

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I will never have another garage sale again for the rest of my life as long as I live.

Amen.

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Paul got a promotion a few weeks ago. Yes, yes, I know I'm a little late telling y'all, but our lives have been absolutely turned upside down for over two weeks now and I just haven't had the time or energy to do much of anything other than cry, moan, whine and wallow. You'd think after such wonderful news as a promotion, I'd be a little happier, but I've come to the conclusion that I'm pretty much just a crotchety little old lady inside a 35 year old body.

He trained for 10 days on evening shift without a day off. He asked me not to blog about the fact that he wasn't home at night because he didn't want Fitty coming along and hatcheting his family to bits, so I suffered in silence without the help of the innernets. Okay, actually that was the time frame I was knee-deep in garage sale crap, so I didn't have time to post really.

Anyway, Paul moved from Assistant Security Supervisor to GSR (Guest Services Representative) Supervisor. If you're familiar with casinos, GSR is their fancy way of saying "Slot Tech." He's Supervisor over the people that work on machines, help guests with problems or issues, keeps track of what goes on on the floor and of course, does shift paperwork.

Get this: He wears a tie to work every day. When he was in Security he wore one two days a week while the regular supervisor was off, but now he wears one daily. He now owns more ties than I own Tupperware, including one with an obnoxious pink flamingo on it and of course, a Mossy Oak camouflage.

Last night I was telling my aunt that now that Paul's all dressed up to go to work he all but has to peel me off him in the mornings to head out the door. She laughed and said, "All because of a tie?" I nodded and said, "Oh my gosh, yes! I had no idea a tie could make such a difference!" She looked over at my Uncle Tom sitting in his recliner in a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt and said, "I'm buying him a tie tomorrow."

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