Showing posts from February, 2015

But it's an improvement! In the home!

If there are three words that my husband cannot bear to hear in one sentence, it's these: Home, Improvement, Project. So, he was less than thrilled when I kicked off a bunch of home improvement projects last week. First, I had a friend come over and uninstall (and haul away) our dishwasher. The dishwasher was old, looked like poop, and didn't work well. We're a small family and seldom used it, so I was happy to part with it. Initially, I wondered if I might be able to handle the dishwasher job on my own. I posted on Facebook to ask how hard such a job might be. A few of my friends made it sound like all you have to do is to unplug it and then magical appliance fairies come and make it disappear. However, a couple of my more practical friends mentioned scary things about plumbing and electricity. Fortunately, one of my friends offered to send her husband over. He uninstalled it and even hauled it away for me. All I had to do was to buy him a bottle of Captain Morgan. I w

Physical Therapy

I thought I would bore you with some details about my first physical therapy session.  I've never really been to physical therapy before. Well, I take that back. When I broke my thumb back in 2005, the surgeon sent me to occupational therapy in an attempt to get the thumb to bend again. However, shortly after that, my gall bladder revolted and I found myself back in an operating room. I had only been to one therapy session and then once the gall bladder became a sit-choo-ay-tion, the thumb business just sort of got lost in the shuffle. My thumb, alas, will never bend again. By the way, if you ever happen to break your hand, please go to the doctor immediately. I had somehow convinced myself that it wasn't broken ("I'm sure it's FINE!") and didn't seek medical attention for nearly a week. That's the main reason why it will never bend again. It's fine - just don't ask me to open a jar of marinara for you. Anyway, my first visit with the physica

No make-up for you!

Do you see this face? To me, it's the most beautiful, perfect face in the whole wide world. I know I have a certain bias here, but I don't think I am the only one to notice the cuteness. Everywhere we go, I hear "those eyes!' and "those curls!" Her hazel eyes (framed by long, thick lashes) and over-the-top curls are show-stoppers, for sure. My baby wants to put make-up on this face. The other day, I stopped at Ulta to pick up some eyeliner and whatnot. I had some birthday money from my grandma and decided to buy something for myself before it got sucked up by a bill or something. While the kid and I were in the store, she started lobbying for some lip gloss. I don't have a problem with her wearing lip gloss. My main beef is that she already has lip gloss and chap stick stashed in various nooks and crannies in her bedroom. I mean, the child has one mouth and a hundred tubes of lip gloss. Sometimes, for some extra fun, she leaves them in her pockets so

Birthday Weekend

Our little family went out of town for a couple of days. We rented a suite at a resort. We didn't venture out much since it was bitterly cold outside. On Friday evening, we went to a great pizza place that even has vegan cheese - woo hoo! I managed to spill a drink (my daughter's root beer) as soon as we sat down, so I'm sure that was impressive. On Saturday, we went to a candy store and then went out to lunch. We encountered white-out conditions on the way to lunch. The snowy photos below show the view of the water.  I've never seen anything quite like it. The temperature hovered at around 0 (and that was without the wind chill factored in). The kid went swimming at least four times. She made the mistake of saying that I turned 46 on Saturday, so now I have to cut her out of my will. My actual age is 45, thankyouverymuch. Mr. M. went to a particular bakery that offers vegan items and got me a birthday cake.  He even picked up a couple of vegan doughnuts for breakfa

I'm in need of repairs

I went to see a new doctor on Monday. Don't worry - I didn't hate this one. She seemed nice, and she didn't leave me in an exam room for 45 minutes while she talked to a pharmaceutical rep in the next exam room (which is what my OB-GYN did to me last week). The main reason for my visit to the internal medicine doctor was to discuss my hips.I figured there wasn't much that could be done. However, I recently made the mistake of listening to a podcast about the horrors of taking too much acetaminophen, and I became vaguely concerned about my liver and whatnot. So, I stopped taking Tylenol PM and started taking plain diphenhydramine in an attempt to sleep through the pain. Basically, I wanted to talk to a doctor about what is safe to take, and to ask if there are other things I could/should be doing to manage the situation. I'm patiently waiting for wacky-tobacky to be legal in my state.  Ha ha! Just kidding! (sort of) A few weeks ago, I decided to try to run a 5K in

In praise of the nice guy

As a teenager and later as a young adult, I dated some nice guys and I dated some asshats. I remember dating a Staff Sergeant (USMC) who, after several weeks of turbulent couplehood, actually raised a hand to hit me during an argument. Needless to say, I never saw him again. I also remember dating a very sweet guy who weighed less than I did and drove a nice car, but for whom I could not scrounge up any sort of physical attraction. I learned a couple of things from my dating adventures: I wanted a guy who wouldn't make me cry. I didn't want a lot of drama. I wanted a dude who wouldn't be clingy. I didn't want any of that "where are you going? who's going to be there?" kind of stuff.  I have friends whose significant others call/text them constantly. That would drive me bonkers. On June 6, 1992, I headed to a club in Washington DC called The Dome, affectionately known to many as the Do Me. I was there with my roommate, whose name I have forgotten (sh

The day we got a whole museum to ourselves

On Sunday, the day after we worked at the pet expo, the kid and I woke up to find that a snowstorm had blown in overnight. We were on the 11th floor and could see snow for miles. It wasn't a surprise - we'd heard it was coming. However, I am not one to panic at such things.  I had promised the kid that I would take her to the science museum on Sunday and there was no way we weren't going. The snow was still coming down but I wasn't in a hurry and took my time navigating the streets near our hotel. When we got to the museum it was around 10:20 a.m. The museum had opened at 10.  We were the only people there.  The guy at the admissions desk warned me that they were thinking of closing at 2:00.  That was fine - we weren't going to stay for more than a couple hours anyway (we love the place and have been there several times).  The museum is split into two main sections - water-based exhibits on one side and other science exhibits on the other side. We had at least t

Who doesn't love the DMV?

My driver's license expires on my birthday next week. I guess I can't really complain - I've had the current one for eight years. Anywho, I'm headed to the ol' DMV this afternoon to get a new one.You can imagine my excitement. I thought I would get a head start and practice for the horrifying photo I'll have to look at for the next eight years. 

Pet Expo

The kid and I volunteered at a pet expo out of town on Saturday. I worked at the Boxer Rescue booth and she worked in the reptile education area. Once again, I was very proud of my daughter. She had a cold, but she did a great job educating the public about snakes and other reptiles (or at least all of the grown-up reptile people told me she was awesome).  She was also operating on five hours of sleep. She had a sleepover the night before and despite all of my warnings such as "You can have a friend over but you still have to get up early on Saturday" . .. they stayed up until 2 a.m. By the end of her shift at the expo, her eyes were red and she looked a bit worse for wear. We went to a vegetarian/vegan place for dinner and it was all she could do to gnaw on a couple of tortilla chips (she had eaten a huge dill pickle at the expo). I was super excited to be at a place where I could eat almost everything on the menu, but I had to wolf down my food because Her Highness appear

It's not just my buns that are cross

All my dreams have come true. My daughter brought a plastic recorder home from school. They are learning to play it in music class. "I need to practice," she told me, and started wailing on the thing on the way home. "Okay, sweetie, can you practice outside?" She gave me a look. "Mo-o-om! It's 16 degrees outside!" "I'm not sure what your point is," I responded. The first song she is learning is Hot Cross Buns. In 1980, I learned how to play Hot Cross Buns on a recorder. I even still remembered the notes. B A G! B A G! I don't remember my mother complaining about the time I spent practicing. Either I've blocked it out or she took some heavy-duty sedatives at the time. I know it is called child abuse when a parent abuses a child, but . . . who will protect the parents?  Who?