Monday, April 27, 2009

A peek inside a typical morning at the Davis ranch

Scene: Spongebob is on, coffee’s brewing, grandmother (Mams) is constantly asking questions about who the TV characters are, kids are still in p.j.’s trying to wake up and the dog went back to bed.

Dorkfish: “Bonus, Spongebob just broke Patrick’s bassinette.”

Me: “Bassinette? Dude, that’s a cello. Do you even know what a bassinette is?!”

Mams: (Dying laughing)

Dorkfish: “Well, that’s what Spongebob called it!”

Me: “Well then. I guess I’ve been calling that baby carrier thingy the wrong name all along…”

Mams: “Maybe it was a viola.”

Me: “Isn’t that the thing in the back of your throat?”

Mams: “No, I think that’s your vulva.”

Me: “No, that’s the maker of my car.”

Dorkfish just walked off. But I get the feeling he may have a better idea of where I get it from…

Saturday, April 25, 2009

The Voices...I haz em

Last night I had the privilege of attending (and sitting 12 rows from the stage) at the Yanni Voices concert and let me tell was one of the most impressive concerts I've seen.

And I was at Michael Jackson when I was five. So there.

Granted, with seats pretty incredible, but this one was truly a show.

I had seen the preview at Blissdom '09 and thought it looked 'pretty neat' but didn't see myself ever actually going. Then I saw the ads online for it and a poster in the bathroom at a stadium and was a bit surprised. Actually, to be accurate, I grabbed Jennifer's arm and drug her over to the wall yelling, "I SAW THAT PREVIEW AT THE BLOGGING CONFERENCE AND LET ME TELL YOU...THOSE TWO GUYS ARE SUPER HOT!!!"

The other restroom attendees were not nearly as impressed as Jennifer pretended to be.

So when the One 2 One Network ladies emailed me* and invited me to the concert...let's just say I knew who I was taking.

This show? Was much more impressive in person than any of the previews or PBS specials. It would have truly been the most perfect date night; with all the hot guys and sexy women up on stage. Jennifer wouldn't let me put my arm around her though. She might be a little bit uptight...I'm not sure yet.

There was dancing (on and off pianos), amazing musicians who not only were true masters of their instruments, they were performers as well, and of course the singing. Let me tell you, the singing, was so much better than I had ever imagined! These performers are artists. I can see why Yanni said that he was proud every time they walked out on stage. It was quite a show.

Not only were the singers incredible, gorgeous and wonderful performers, they were truly sincere people. I can say that truthfully as I MET THEM AFTER THE SHOW!

(All but Yanni. I think he was worried about falling in love with me. I can't say that I blame him. After all, I don't know how the boys would do on the tour.)

However, I did get a hug from Ender and let me tell was about as wonderful as you ladies would imagine.

I was going to let him know that if this whole "Yanni thing" didn't work out, I'm in need of a cabana boy. (I'd build a cabana for him, trust me.) But Jennifer wouldn't let me. Something about 'embarrassing her enough already', I'm not sure...

*No bloggers were injured (or paid) for this post. It is solely the opinion of the writer...and her opinion is the only one that matters anyway. ;)

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Payback's a bitch, you know...

If you really want to get your husband back for some insensitive comment, I would suggest the following:

When his father asks what the 'juice' your husband is drinking is you let him know that it isn't really some sort of glucosamine drink for his rickety knees, but rather, it's an experimental medicine for ED.

Bet he won't call me 'whipped cream for brains' again.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

A Moment for Maddie

Today there is no funny. Check back tomorrow.

Today, is purple. Purple is the color of Maddie. Our little bloggy baby who is being laid to rest today. All the supporters are turning purple to let others know about her.

I wish I could post something uplifting, inspirational, or even thought provoking. But I can't. For once, I am at a loss for words. Everything I have written feels empty. I have never 'been there' and am more than thankful for that.

I have questioned 'why' more times than I care to admit and am honestly scared to keep searching. I have always believed in a 'big picture' scenario and yet, I can't fathom it right now. In the midst of this horrible grief that surrounds my internet home. My twitterland. All has turned purple and sad. There is no hope, no peace, no condolences. For how does one console another who is experiencing a loss so great, so unfathomable and one of which we all fear to speak. We can only share our grief and send our love monetarily, in hopes that another family will be saved from this grief or help the Spohr's cope with this burden. I know I will wear my bracelet proudly.

I can only change my blog color and pass on some links to others who have found the words to express by either personally experiencing it or knowing the family. I encourage you to read over their words and say a prayer for Maddie's family, Heather and Mike Spohr. I know I will hold my boys a little tighter and cherish every moment a little more.

Thank you, Maddie. You have given me pause when I wanted to raise my voice to them and made me stop to realize that those two knuckle-heads are the most precious things in the world...even when they're ruining my house.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Because Mondays need more funny...-UPDATED

Bonus just walked by and overheard the news report that the Obama's named their new dog "Bo". He is completely offended.

"Bo is not a dog's name, momma. Dat's jus not right."


Deuce has a bit of a stutter. Okay, it's really intense. He can't make a single sentence without repeating one of the words no less than five times. Ex: "Momma, I,I,I,I,I, want some miiiillllkkk." He is pretty sensitive about this and gets violently mad if anyone stutters back to him.

Last night, I was tucking Bonus in to bed when I heard Deuce start from his crib, "Momma, I,I,I,I,I,..." But before he could finish his sentence there was an echo, "MOMMA, I,I,I,I,I,..." It was the bird that my dad bought them for Christmas. It is a toy parrot that repeats every thing you say. I looked at Bonus and he busted out laughing. He had put the bird in Deuce's room just to annoy him. I couldn't even come to Deuce's rescue because I was laughing too hard to walk.





According to my Lijit stats, someone found my blog by searching, "People keep talking at me" and "Boyz eat poosy".

Tell me THEY aren't disappointed.



I totally forgot to tell you that I had to spend 4 hours trying to figure out what I wanted my mom's tomb stone to say. (I HAD to do this because my grandmother insisted that if I didn't they would. Sure, it's been 6 months since she died, but these things take time. -especially when you're a procrastinator.)

I called my grandmother and said, "Well, I finally decided what I wanted it to say. It took me 4 hours and it's now ordered. There's no going back now."

Mams: "Oh, honey. That's wonderful! What'd you pick? I honestly loved that bible verse..."

Me: "Nope. It's going to say, "Out for a smoke break." How's that sound?"

Saturday, April 11, 2009

The Value of a Dollar

Alright, guys. This is something I have never asked…but desperate times and all…

I told you all about Maddie and how her family had been raising money for March of Dimes for the walk and then the little angel unexpectedly went to be with the Lord. I can honestly say that words cannot express the grief I have experienced for a child I never knew or the family I never met.

But I jumped on the Maddie bandwagon in hopes of easing some grief…for all of us. Well, the lovely internets stepped up and donated a ton of money in memory of this precious child with an infectious smile. And it was awesome.

Now the family is faced with the real-life world of not only coping with this loss, but burying their baby. I can personally attest to the cost of burying a loved one and if you haven’t, well, let’s just say it ain’t cheap.

So here’s the deal, I’m asking you lovely readers to donate a dollar. Seriously. That’s 1/5 of your Starbuck’s coffee…I know because I am a recovering addict. Heh.

But seriously. A buck. You could find that under the seat of your car. Just click the link, send a buck via the safe paypal site and then take a moment to realize how damn fortunate we are that we aren’t spending our Easter holiday in this manner…



Thank you.


Wednesday, April 8, 2009

For Madeline Alice Spohr

I cannot imagine a grief deeper than that of loosing a child.

A mother is grieving tonight. A family is suffering.

They only had her for 17 short months.

This precious preemie was giggling only a few days ago and is now in the Lord's arms.

For Maddie.

For others.

For yourself.

Please give.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Communicable diseases are best when shared, right?!

As I predicted...we're infected.

And, as I predicted...Bonus DOES have MRSA.

Also as predicted...the rest of us have 'suspicious spots' that the doctor decided today were most likely MRSA as well. All of us, that is, except Deuce and the dog. If you ask me, one of them was the one who brought the plague upon this house. They are both now referred to as "Typhoid Tommy and Typhoid Molly". (Anybody ever see Twelve Monkeys?)

Next on the predictions...I'll inherit a million dollars from a long-lost aunt and be able to finally buy that much-coveted pink unicorn with a rainbow mane and jelly bean poop.

While I'm waiting, feel free to send money...or wine. I'm not picky.

But you might not want to come in. Just stand on the sidewalk and throw it in the general direction of the house.

You should be fine.

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Rollin’ without training wheels but with a possibly fatal disease. Das how we roll…

It started with a small pimple inside his teeny little five-year-old-boy nostril. We thought nothing of it.

Two weeks later, the pimple returned but with a vengeance. We were traveling and didn’t worry since the first had cleared up with no problems….aside from a small scar.

Last week another one showed up on his bicep. A muscle that is finally gaining distinction and tone. A status symbol to him. He flexes his little arm daily to show his daddy how big his muscle is getting and is quite certain that it must be as large as daddy’s by now. In fact, when I bandaged this miniscule pimple, he muttered under his breath, “Now people won’t be able to see my muscle so good.” (I laughed out loud and he hit me with a pillow.)

But this little pimple, that appeared to be nothing more than a spider bite, started to grow.

Four days later, he was complaining of pain. Any complaint of pain from Bonus is always cause for concern. This child has a tolerance unlike any other. Shots don’t even phase him. We have learned over the past five years, and warned others, that if he is crying then he’s bleeding profusely or his feelings have been crushed. I looked at the previously teeny red spot to find a pea-sized pimple. Full-blown and angry. The scary part was that there was fever in the sore.

I did the most logical thing any mom would do at 7 p.m….and turned to webmd. You’ve always been cautioned to NEVER go by that as a diagnosis. I have never followed ‘suggestions’ well.

First, the symptoms pointed to a boil. Great! I can handle that. I can do hot compresses and ‘see a doctor if needed’. That is right up my alley!

Then, I began coming across ‘make sure it isn’t MRSA’, and to say I started to freak the hell out…well, there is an understatement. That last line the first paragraph there? Yeah, you read it right. It says, “MRSA can be fatal.” FATAL. As in ‘circling-the-drain’. My baby could have something that can kill him. (I realize there are two “ifs” in the sentence…but when dealing with your child, ANY ‘if’ is cause for alarm.)

I grabbed Steve’s arm, showed him the sites, gestured to my precious baby’s arm and gave him the “I’m-freaked-the-hell-out” eye.

He? Blew me off.

Not a smart move, there Dork Fish. Not a smart move.

I turned to twitter. Those people love me. Those mommies care.

The responses were overwhelming. Not only did they care…they supported me with experience and advice. It was bliss. It was exactly what social networking should be.

I called the doctor first thing the next morning. They put me through to the nurse. I told her of the “boil” and refrained from speaking in hysterics or even mentioning the dreaded acronym that was already haunting my thoughts.

She said, “I’m sure it’s nothing, but we really need to see him to rule out MRSA.” MRSA!!!!!! SHE SAID IT!!!!! THE ACRONYM I WAS DREADING!!!!

Yeah, back in full FREAK-THE-HELL-OUT mode.

We get to the doctor’s, the nurse asks to see the ‘boil’, and immediately takes three steps back.

That is certainly comforting.

The doctor came in and took a sample to send to the lab but said that she wouldn’t know anything until Monday or Tuesday. “Although,” she had to add, “it definitely looks like a staph infection.”

We were sent home with oral and topical antibiotics for his ‘spot’, inside his nose and under his finger nails.

The worst part? Not making your kid feel like a leaper because you freak when he touches his nose, his brother or ANYTHING! Oh, and no son, you can’t bathe with Deuce right now. Please don’t give him your ‘used’ sucker. He’s good. I know he wants it REEEEAAAALLLL bad, but let’s not.

What does little Bonus do? He does the only thing he knows how to do…impress the hell out of mom and dad.

He walked in the garage and announced he wanted his training wheels off his bike. NOW. Shocked, we agreed.

He hopped on his bike and took off down the drive way. This, is what we watched:

biker beaux edited

Either it was his way of saying, “Screw you guys, I’m outta here!” or it was on his bucket list.

You never know with that one.

Don’t all men know cardinal directions?!

Husband (aka – Dork Fish): “In June I have to go to a seminar in Florida and wanted to take you guys with me.”

Me: “Where?”

Dork Fish: “Bonita Springs, or something?”

Me: (Googling) “OH, hey! That’s near Naples! I’ve heard there’s good shopping there! Not that I shop or anything…um, but it would give me something to do with the boys…ahem.”

Dork Fish: “Where is Naples? East or West coast?”

Me: “West. It’s opposite Tampa.”

Dork Fish: “So, it’s on the East coast then.”

Me: (rolling eyes) “NO. It’s on the WEST coast. You know, Never Eat Shredded Wheat *doing the little N,E,S,W sign with my hand*”

Dork Fish: “Right. Tampa is on the WEST coast too, sweetie.”

Me: “PFFFFTTTT. No, DEAR. Tampa is on the EAST coast.”

Me: (Googling)

Me: (Getting pissed cause Google is a lying bastard.)

Dork Fish: “Soooo…where’s Tampa?”

Me: (gritting my teeth) “I meant Miami. It’s on the opposite side from Miami.”

Dork Fish: “So, which coast is it on again?”



He never listens to me.

Thursday, April 2, 2009


Okay, so last week we are going to the park. (Go ahead, pat me on the back…I am.)


I’m packing the little snack bag (kudos for the snack bag here cause I ALWAYS just send my hungry kids over to my friend’s snack bags and pretend I can’t hear them asking for food…just ask Jessica, Lisa, Jae, etc.)


Bonus walks in the kitchen, looks up at my apron hanging on the inside of the pantry door and says, “What’s that?”

Me: “That’s an apron.”

Bonus: “What’s an apron?”

Me: “It’s for cooking. You know, you put it on and it keeps you from getting food on your clothes when you’re cooking.”

Bonus: “Then why do you have it?”

::shrugs his shoulders and walks away::


See what I mean about the advanced sarcasm?! I totally wouldn’t have thought of that until the next day…

Shhhh…it’s a secret key for a reason.

You know when you’re sitting at your computer enjoying that last warm cup of coffee and giggling over all the blog posts you missed by being out of town and all the sudden your mind is flooded with that ‘mommy sense’ that you haven’t heard your kids fighting in a while…


…yeah, I’m there right now.


But don’t fret, Bonus just came in the room to inform me that Deuce was locked in the bathroom, but it was okay because he was able to move a chair to the dresser, climb on top and reach the ‘secret key’ above the door.


See? Sorted. This parenting thing is soooo much easier once you teach them to fend for themselves.


Which also reminds me of something I’ve always wondered about. What if someone is chasing you through your house to kill you and you run to the bed room to lock yourself in there and call the police but as you are dialing 911 the murderer opens the door because he found your ‘secret key’ that you had so stealthy hidden above the door to ensure your kids wouldn’t be locked in another room while you ignored them worked on your writing and sipped your coffee. Then what?! I need to go move that damn key again.

Bet they would never look under the mat.