Dec 23 2008
Create Your Own Caption
I thought it would be fun to start a new section on my blog. I will be posting pics online and asking you to add your own captions. Come on, you know you want to! Add your caption by clicking the comment link–it is usually found close to the top of my posts near the advertising or under the title. Hope to be reading YOU soon.
* Just in time for Christmas and coming soon to a theatre near you: Home Alone 4: Lost in Space.
*Please make sure all of your belongings are secured in the cabin prior to take off!
*Houston, we have a problem!”









Ever feel like things are just headed for disaster? Some days are just like that aren’t they? My son and I were having that kind of day yesterday. Nothing was working out. Although I woke up earlier than usual, somehow I just couldn’t get it together. I stared endlessly into my closet (which believe me is packed with clothes—maybe that’s the problem: too much to choose from) wondering what to wear. Once decided upon I ironed everything. Jumped in the shower—only to hear the screaming of the little one: MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYY! You left me! WAAAHHHH WAAAAHHHH WAAAAHH Soap running down my face. Trying to console him and still trying to rinse my hair. Cut the shower short. How do I blow out the hair now? Not possible. I hold him for a little while and he falls asleep again. Onto the couch you go my little scooter pie. ssshhhhhhhhhh. I got the hair and makeup done and was dressed. Now let me get the other guy up and ready, make breakfast and sit at his side saying: “C’mon buddy you have to eat something; you’ll get a tummy ache if you don’t” . That continues for about 10 to 15 minutes. He manages to eat a little and I rush him into the bathroom. But before doing so I get jelly on my white top–yep right on the breast-not too noticeable. I’ll try and wash it off. Wet breast–very classy! Meanwhile: “Mommy, could you brush my teeth for me?” “You can do it yourself buddy.” “But I love when you do it.” Guilt swept, I sit him on my lap and look into his beautiful hazel eyes and brush his teeth. He giggles and dribbles toothpaste on the not so white and oh so wet top. MAN!!!! Trying hard not to get angry (My new resolution is PATIENCE with my kids because they don’t see me much due to the new job and really all they want is my attention) I finish brushing his teeth, comb his hair and wash his face with a cloth. “Thanks mom,” he says and I think: So worth the toothpasted breast. Then I look toward the toilet seat that we were just sitting on and see smeared toothpaste. NOOOOOOOOOO! I sat in toothpaste with my khakis! Now I have to IRON a new outfit?? Not happening-no time. I grab the washcloth and wipe the toothpaste off my pants and my top–came off pretty easily actually. Now I just pray that it dries before anyone sees it. Thank goodness for a long coat. “Lunch money—shoot, I gotta grab your lunch money.” The little one is up now and looking for loving and a “Warm hot baba (sippy cup) of milk” Now I am starting to crack. ”Buddy, get your shoes for me while I get your brother his milk.” “Could you mom?” UGH. ”Please pal–find them for mommy!” The little one picks up my writing book and EVERYTHING falls to the floor–out of order; including my children’s story. I yell at him and then feel bad that I yell–I am crying now and the five year old asks: “Mommy are you having a bad day?” Tears mix with laughter and I hug him. The little one hearing BAD DAY begins to sing the hook to the song from Alvin and The Chipmunks: “If you had a bad day.” He only knows those words and I can’t stand how cute he is singing it. ”So are you having a bad day mommy?” ”Yeah, Pal, I am …but the good news is: It can only get better right?” ”Right mom.” Cut to five minutes later, the two of them are playing with matchbox cars before we leave nicely on the floor and I go to my room to get a sweater. I hear the beginnings of a scuffle and by the time I get to them they are wrestling together on the floor and the five year old is crying that the three year whacked him with a matchbox car beside his eye. It is swollen already and I am on the verge of tears again. How do you take a kid to school with a welt on his eye? How do you take a kid to school who now wants to stay home? He has missed so many days already–he has to go. I put him in the car–we are now super late. I walk him into the school. “He needs a late pass” says the security guard as I hold the hand of the sad boy to my right. Signing him in I tell the lady at the desk: “His brother whacked him with a matchbox car”, he’s okay but call my husband if there is any problem–all along I am praying that they believe me and don’t call Child Protective Services. “Not a problem” they say. I leave him feeling terribly sad and feeling like I am going to cry my eyes out. I miss my usual bus but make the next. There is bumper to bumper traffic all the way into the city. We finally reach the city and I hear a woman yelling behind me. “Joannie, Joannie—Oh my God…. Call 911….” Someone was having a seizure. I am sure there were some people who were annoyed that they would be late to work, but most of us turned white and just didn’t know what to do. Most of us felt terrible for her. The bus pulled over and the situation was addressed by her friend. She eventually came out of it. The bus driver just watched. She was okay in the end but most of us on the bus were shaken. She actually seemed more embarrassed than upset. Which made me sadly realize that it happens to her often. The bus driver– A@# that he was says to me at the last stop when it was just the two of us: I am so glad that wasn’t worse; I’d be on this bus all day if she needed 911. I said: Oh yeah, that would really have messed up YOUR day—you’re right, it would have been a bad day for YOU. I delivered the message happily with sarcasm and bite. I hope he realized he was a real jerk. Needless to say, that incident put the whole day into perspective for me. Things can always be worse. I am so thankful to God that I have my health and that I know how to put my chin up when it feels like my day is going down hill. So when I am faced with a bad day again—and there will be bad days, I plan to just hold on tightly to what matters most. Cherish every day.







