Warning: You might want to get your favorite beverage first.

The eldest son has his birthday tomorrow and a good birthday it’s going to be: he gets to return to his alma mater and watch a football game with his younger brother, who hopes to make the same university his alma mater in about 4 years. He will also join his dad and one of his good college buddies and his wife for the day. He is making his own way and making his parents very proud in the process. I wouldn’t say that I was always sure that would happen when he was a youngster! He, like many young boys, was rather rambunctious and curious and that often got him into some mischief.

But, probably his worst problem? Having rookie parents. So, here’s what the eldest son has taught those parents on the way to making us proud:

1. Pray for a son to be born to you. Have great people join you in those prayers. Pray to the God who managed to solve infertility problems for an elderly husband and wife. If he can do that and get a virgin preggers, he can solve your fertility problems, too.

2. Don’t let your anger show when disciplining your child, even if justified. Why? Because that is the exact same temper he will show you when he’s 17. Conclusion: I have a nasty temper.

3. Matchbox race tracks are a waste of money. Buy a parking garage instead.

4. The box the race track and the parking garage came in will later be used as train cars and will be played with more often than the parking garage.

5. Do not have single uncles buy your children toys at Christmas. They buy all the noisy, obnoxious ones.

6. Lego bricks hurt just as much as Barbie high heels at night when the lights are off.

7. I am not a great parent at 7 pm when I have to get 3 children in bed on my own after a full day’s work. Forget reading to my children. Why? That very question is why I didn’t read to them. They kept asking “Why?” after everything I read. Add a lack of patience to my resume of shortcomings as a parent.

8. If you teach a kid his addition facts, he will carve them in his bunk bed and above the light socket in your bedroom. How do you solve that issue? Bigger bed quilt and move your bed in front of the light socket.

9. A kid may actually learn to read the words on the flashcards if his little sister is banned from the room.

10. A kid may actually get to practice his piano lesson in peace if you get his little sister lessons, too.

11. Sometimes it’s okay if your child gets in trouble at school….if he’s in the process of helping a fellow student and forgot to ask permission to do that.

12. Sometimes your kid does have to take on a bully and let it be known that bullying will no longer be tolerated or ignored.

13. Even the most non-artistic parents in the world can sometimes produce an artist.

14. You can probably conclude that your son is starting to think about someone else when he picks your anniversary date as his football jersey number.

15. Volunteering can lead to your destiny.

16. You learn how tough your kid is when he is faced with his weakest moments.

17. Never underestimate the power of a girlfriend.

18. You think those movies your kid watches are a complete waste of time. Instead your kid is designing Christian retreat materials from them.

19. When your son doesn’t do well at school, never underestimate his ability to change, to admit he was wrong and to turn the situation completely around.

20. What you thought was stubbornness and stoicism turns out to be persuasive coaching and careful listening.

21. What you thought was just a part-time “character-building” job turns out to be precisely what leads him to his career.

22. Just when you think he may be on your payroll for the next five years due to a horrible recession, he finds a way to get off of it.

23. In the middle of becoming his own man, he will change the destiny of someone else–a sweet, abandoned little puppy girl.

24. Just when you think he’s completely different from his parents, he will start a career that strangely resembles his dad’s.

25. Just when you think he no longer needs you, he’ll start calling frequently just to tell you that he loves you.

26. When he is frustrated and worried about his job, you are, too.

27. The best of being that rookie parent is still yet to be…he likes to surprise us by doing the impossible and doing it well.

Happy Birthday, Big Guy! We love you.

Mom XXOO

Monday’s Post: Are you orgulous?

You might also like: Lessons Learned from De-Kidding the House and Lessons Learned from Being a Pansy and No, I Don’t Mean the Flower 

Warning: You may want to get 2 beverages first.

The reality is that I started doing a lot of the following a long time ago. But perhaps the contemplative point is that we parents often don’t have time to realize just how much we change our previous lives when little ones enter our lives. Why don’t we have time? Just read below and you’ll probably figure it out. Here’s what I either am doing now that the kids are all out living their own lives or plan to do in the next few years:

1. Use up all the hot water for my shower.
2. Take fewer cold showers, thanks to # 1.
3. Quit doing a 1 am check of the living room for bodies playing Xbox Live after bedtime. And people wonder why I’m an insomniac.
4. Stop turning off all the lights in their end of the house.
5. Pet the dog.
6. Sip coffee on my back porch and do more of # 5.
7. Have a 2^nd cup of coffee on the back porch.
8. Actually water my plants.
9. Put photos in a photo album and actually use the hope chest for hope.
10. Talk to my husband about something other than what part of the house now needs to be repaired and which kid needs some “active parenting,” thanks to their latest “issues”.
11. Remind myself why I married the hubby…besides the fact that he makes a pretty good dad.
12. Spend all day in the Container store.
13. Actually go in an IKEA store. Hey, I live in a small town.
14. Go to Toys R Us and play with the toys instead of telling someone not to play with the toys.
15. While at Toys R Us, laugh wickedly at the moms telling their kids not to play with the toys.
16. Quit saving Limited, Too and Delia’s coupons.
17. Shop in stores filled with expensive, breakable items.
18. Actually venture into the china department at Macy’s.
19. Sit in a fast food restaurant, away from the Playland.
20. Go to matinees of non-animated movies on a weekday.
21. Make an exception to # 20 for movies with “minions” in them.
22. Have leisurely meals out with friends without worrying about having to pick up a kid from an extracurricular activity or put one to bed.
23. Quit instinctively putting my arm across the passenger seat when having to stop quickly in the car.
24. Put things in the back seat without worrying about which car seat it’s closest to.
25. Buy a sports car again (Yes, once upon a time MaryAnn owned something other than a mini-van and an SUV. Hard to believe, hunh?)…after the college moving years.
26. Have a Bachelor/Bachelorette watch party with my BFFs. Don’t hate.
27. Travel half as much as my hubby…buy a bigger suitcase.
28. Haunt Sam Moon to buy the bigger suitcase…on a weekday.
29. Stop closing down all the stores that stay “open late” during Christmas season because the hubby can only watch the kids for 1 long Saturday each December.
30. Stop listening for the “silence.” Revel in it, instead.
31. Stop lecturing and replace that with pointed, “open-ended” questions.
32. Read a book all in one sitting, like Hop on Pop.
33. Put treats in children’s hands instead of smacking them for reaching for the cookie jar right before dinner.
34. Yank out those infernal safety plugs in my outlets.
35. Take the safety latches off the cabinets with dangerous substances in them, like chocolate.
36. Organize the Tupperware cabinet and pots and pans cabinet and marvel at how it stays that way for a whole day.
37. Read the owner’s manual for my new cell phone.
38. Beam that my car interior no longer contains science experiments gone awry in the back seat, random cheerios, and the missing puzzle pieces.
39. Take the parental controls off the TV and home computer (They turned out to be a complete waste of time anyway with kids who were weaned on computers, etc.) Heck, throw the home computer out, since we all have smart phones, iPads, iPods, Xboxes, and laptops.
40. Use the wedding china and wash it by hand.
41. Buy necklaces that actually could be destroyed by chubby hands yanking a little too hard.
42. Wear dangly and hoop earrings again.
43. Leave the door open without expecting company in the bathroom at the most inappropriate times imaginable, like when I’m reading Hop on Pop.
44. Take showers without toddlers to save time on Sunday mornings.
45. Stop cutting up everyone else’s food while mine gets cold.
46. Stop evaluating furniture based on child-friendly features such as being indestructible during a nuclear bomb attack.
47. Use cloth diapers for dust rags instead of burping cloths.
48. Save money for retirement.
49. Pay off the mortgage.
50. Buy a dress when it’s at full retail price…in white.
51. Quit buying spray ‘n wash, bleach, sunscreen, aloe vera gel, Benadryl cream and bug repellant in 5 gallon drums.
52. Quit buying the 21 pack of lunch box sized chips.
53. Snuggle with my hubby on the couch in the living room and watch the Cosby show without having to move game controllers first.
54. Still laugh at # 53.
55. Make a real pizza.
56. Stop closing drawers…everywhere.
57. Marvel at the balance in the checkbook.
58. Marvel that the checkbook is actually balanced.
59. Marvel that you can now balance the checkbook online. This happened while I wasn’t sleeping at night, right?
60. Talk to my girlfriends on the phone without having to say, “Just a minute…” and then putting my hand over the receiver while I berate some errant child.
61. Quit giving the “look” to my children from across a crowded room. Instead, give the “smile” to my hubby across a crowded room.
62. Move the beer and the wine into the main refrigerator.
63. Make room for # 62 by getting rid of lunchables, juice boxes, juice, Gatorade, and the Pedialyte.
64. Get rid of the freezer and the side of beef and whole hog that used to inhabit it on a regular basis.
65. Start stocking up on the “noisy” toys to give my future grandchildren. Laugh wickedly when their parents realize  that these toys don’t come with an optional ear bud plug-in.
66. Add on to my Christmas village collection and put it on a really low table.
67. Use tweezers to actually tweeze something, as opposed to pulling out splinters.
68. Quit explaining what plethora means.
69. Marvel at how trash cans can stay empty for an entire week.
70. Marvel at how the bathroom sink can stay clean for longer than 5 minutes.
71. Marvel at the difference in color of the floor when it doesn’t have ketchup on it.
72. Marvel at how the former boys’ bedrooms no longer smell like a gym locker.
73. Marvel at how bathroom towels remain on the towel bar, neatly folded.
74. Stop banning permanent markers and sharp scissors from the house.
75. Give away the “Sex Talk” books.
76. Stop saying, “We only talk about that at home.”
77. Stop having a panic attack when I hear a school bus approach.
78. Actually leave the house without having to return to the house 5 times for the favorite blankie, teddy bear, cheerios snack container, extra diapers and stray church shoe.
79. Use the oven for something other than a frozen pizza or frozen cookie dough.
80. Let my hair grow longer than my chin and refuse to put it up in a ponytail.
81. Contemplate my navel.
82. Stop eating food that’s “cute” or smiling back at me with a fruity set of lips.
83. Stop evaluating restaurants based on whether they have a drive-thru lane, happy meals, a kids menu or a Rooty-Tooty Fresh ‘n Fruity option.
84. Go back to “school” shopping for me. I plan to buy books with $ 20 words in them, try on oodles of cute blazers, vests and blouses that actually require ironing, and get myself a really, really tiny purse.
85. Use the Irish linen tablecloth my dad gave my mother after returning from being stationed in Scotland without being concerned for its permanent demise.
86. Use my grandmother’s hand-tatted lace placemats more than once a year.
87. Listen to my music in my car.
88. Be thankful I no longer know all the words to the songs on Barney, whether I wanted to know them or not.
89. Take a trip without the children and not write a novel for the person responsible for caring or checking on our children/teens.
90. Arrive somewhere on time or maybe…wait…can it be…5 minutes early. Be still my heart.
91. Stop bribing the dentist’s receptionist to watch my kids while I’m in “the chair.” She now drives a Mercedes. Must have a wealthy spouse.
92. Stop paying babysitters Steve Jobs’ last annual salary for 1 hour of babysitting because your children are that “challenging.” I heard, last week, that those sitters now own JC Penney.
93. Start investing in Apple instead of paying them.
94. Observe my children, not to correct or praise their behavior, but to notice which up and coming companies are worthy of my e-trade money.
95. Sleep in without worrying about whether a kid got up for school on time.
96. Stop buzzing through the living room every 15 minutes when the boyfriend or girlfriend is over for the evening.
97. When I stub my toe, stop exclaiming “Sheee’s a really nice person” or “Dammmmmmmmmmms are places where beavers live.”
98. Stop looking around before I open my lingerie drawer.
99. Be a little wistful that one era of my life has passed and…
100. Admire the adults I now refer to as my offspring because they stopped being kids a long, long time ago, in spite of their flawed parenting. 

There are days when I truly wonder if my cardiologist gets that Prinzmetal Angina is stress-induced…and today would be one of those days. I had my first follow-up with him since my release from the hospital in June. If you’re not up on my “health adventures,” I suggest you read this first. Here’s why:

1. It takes 3 weeks to make 2 appointments 2 months away that require 75 minute car trips one-way.

2. Finding a parking space in the parking garage across the street from his office complex is basically an exercise in futility despite 4 rather massive levels.

3. The only way to get into the office building is via a continuously-moving revolving door with big red letters on the glass which says, “DO NOT PUSH DOOR UNLESS THE DOOR IS STOPPED!” People ahead of us invariably push the door despite its movement and thus, the door stops. (Picture me rolling my eyes!)

4. Once on the 5th floor, one is told to sign in and sit down. Upon sitting down (pretty far away from the receptionist), the receptionist calls your name and hands you a clipboard with a questionnaire asking you to reveal whether you are: a psycho killer, about to go into labor, or having a heart attack right now. (Well, I wasn’t, but now that I think about it, I have noticed some OCD moments lately, my seat is wet and this insanity is causing me to reach for the nitro pills.)

5. After you complete said questionnaire and you dutifully return it promptly to the receptionist, she takes the documents off the clipboard and hands them back to you to give to the nurse and you’re told to go back and sit down in Canada again.

6. A surly nurse’s aide takes you to an exam room and you are asked when the psychosis began, how far apart your contractions are and should they get the heart paddles soon. Then she proceeds to try and take your blood pressure from the very arm where vampires sucked every ounce of blood from your veins earlier in the day. To take it on the other arm, you either have to get really friendly with a surly nurse’s aide or become a contortionist. I’ll let you guess which option Ms. Surly chose.

7. If you should feel the need to relieve yourself while waiting for the physician’s aide, you have to take a left turn in Montana, a right turn when you’re in New Mexico and hope the sign is in English. After a while I really wondered if I was going to have to re-read, “Who Moved My Cheese?”

8. Finally the aide comes in and one gets good news. then she leaves to inform the doc that you really would like to see the Wizard. I guess that means I am either in the Emerald City or Kansas. Maybe I’ll get out of the maze now that I have a GPS location?

9. The doctor tells you pretty good news, as well. Hey, he really IS the Wizard. Guess I’m in Emerald City today.

10. About the time you think you can leave in the hot air balloon, another vampire deflates said balloon by sticking you with a pin to suck you dry one more time and to make sure you don’t leave Oz.

11. Then, the Wicked Witch of the West appears and tells you, “I’ll get you, my Pretty. You get to do more stomach injections.” Where is water when I need it???

12. Finally, you are granted permission to leave and you get in line to pay for all of this wonderfulness. Apparently, you have to pay green to get out of the Emerald City. And you wondered why they called it the Emerald City? Aha! Now you know.

13. After you pay the green, another receptionist tells you that it will be the next millennium until you can return to Oz to be poked and prodded by the Wicked Witch of the West again. Joy. Where is Glenda and the Munchkins when I need them?

14. After paying the green, then you get to go through the Yellow-Brick Revolving door again and begin your “Where’s Waldo?” search for your car in the massive parking garage. (Yes, I know I’ve mixed several metaphors now…but blame it on the lack of blood flow to my brain, thanks to the vampires.)

15. After leaving the parking garage, your hubby will exclaim, “There’s no place like DFW…there’s no place like DFW…” because that really IS where he lives. Someone forgot to tell him that Dorothy lives southwest of there. Time to call out my flying monkeys. Hmmm…maybe I’m turning into the Wicked Witch of the Southwest. If so, cancel the water order. If I’m seeing flying monkeys, I probably need more Xanax.

The bottom line? More stomach injections and another blood test on Thursday. *sigh*

Thursday’s Post: 100 Things on My To-Do List…

You might also like: Lessons Learned from De-Kidding My House and Lessons Learned from Being a Pansy and No, I Don’t Mean the Flower

Warning: Get a beverage first. 

The last child departed for college last weekend. While I am a little sad about this new phase of my life, I am also excited about his future and the future wedded life of two people who haven’t stopped thinking about parenting since about 1984. My dad had a philosophy about entering his retirement years: “You don’t retire from something; you retire to something.” In other words you make some plans for the next phase of your life and get busy living out those plans. That’s my choice for this empty nest phase of my life.

My mother-in-law, upon entering this phase of her life, took one of her offspring’s bedrooms and converted it into a child’s playroom. Why? Because she was already a grandmother and felt the “grands” (as she calls them) needed a safe place to play when visiting her home. She took the “remnants” of her own children’s playthings and created a haven for her eventual 12 grandchildren. Recently, she and her hubby made the decision that it was time to move in with their daughter and her family and thus, the old homestead, including the playroom, went on the market. However, before it sold, all of us gathered at that home to reminisce about our memories of the house they called home for 43 years. Chief among the “grands” memories are playing in that playroom and that just stuck with me.

It also occurred to me that if I want to invite people over for dinner in this next phase of life, some of them are going to have young children and they are probably going to get bored with adult conversation at some point in the evening. So, having a playroom for them to explore and discover would be an awesome way to entertain them until the day when I have my own “grands”. Therefore, each of my children’s bedrooms are about to be converted. One is already semi-converted–my daughter’s former bedroom is slowly evolving into a writing office for me. My eldest son’s bedroom will revert to a guest bedroom for all of our out-of-town and out-of-state relatives. But, the youngest’s room is about to become…as you probably guessed…the playroom.

I have big ideas for that playroom, probably too many to actually put into one small room, but the first part of creating the playroom means gathering up all the “remnants” of my kids’ childhoods and when you begin to clean out closets, drawers, toy bins, game cabinets and student desks, there are bound to be a few surprises along the way. Their belongings have migrated all over the house, so “de-kidding” the majority of the house is a really interesting process, especially when your kids really like hanging on to things. Here’s what I have learned so far:

1. Wear a hazmat suit.
2. A welding mask may come in handy, too.
3. Bring your own supply of oxygen and put a clothespin on your nose.
4. Buy a case of hospital gloves. Change frequently to prevent getting bubonic plague.
5. I now know why we never have any flashlight batteries. They were at the back of the “games cabinet” for the games that do not require batteries. I suppose this is somehow logical in a kid’s world.
6. We don’t have much in the “safe” toy department. I’m not sure if this is an indictment of my parenting or if this is because the safe toys were all destroyed by ruffian children long ago. I didn’t say my children were stupid.
7. We have a lot of kid movies, but no VCR to play them on.
8. We have a lot of kid music, but no cassette player to play them on.
9. I’m thinking the kid cassettes and videocassettes will make an interesting grandparent story that begins, “When your mom or dad was a little girl/boy, they had to walk 12 miles to school every morning in the snow, uphill both ways and they watched movies on a machine called a VCR. What is a VCR???? Well, your dad was fond of putting apple cores in ours because he thought it was hungry…”
10. Order a semi-load of garbage bags.
11. Alert your trash service that you need a dumpster.
12. Question whether each item is trash or simply something you do not understand because it bears no resemblance to the toys you thought you bought your child.
13. Throw out all the flattened penny souvenirs on the pretense that they are a choking hazard.
14. Throw out all the gum wrappers…even the ones with antique status from 1987.
15. Step around the stain in the carpeting that your children have carefully hidden on the pretense that they wanted to rearrange their rooms.
16. Be thankful you’re wearing the hazmat suit based on the discovery of # 15.
17. A kid can pack all of his stuff for college and his room still looks the same. I guess he kept all the “good stuff” under his bed??? I don’t think I want to know. I’m officially scared. Maybe Maizie should come with me for cleaning out under the bed….for protection.
18. If you ever wondered what happened to the change left over from sending them to school to pay for certain necessary items, it’s in the dresser drawer that will no longer open without a controlled demolition of your son’s room.
19. What’s keeping it from opening? My guess would be an experiment with gum from 1987.
20. Dress socks are apparently non-essential stuff for college.
21. I’m totally amazed the Children’s Story Bible is not essential equipment for a college dorm.
22. I’m not really sure what I’m going to do with the purple and aqua frosted pop tarts in my pantry. Oh. Wait. There are probably enough preservatives in those things to last until I have a grandchild old enough to be poisoned by them…around 2020.
23. I’d throw out more stuff, but I’m pretty sure it would damage the ozone.
24. You know it’s bad when the dogs won’t even sniff it.
25. I have found a new reason not to eat….ever. My cardiologist will be so pleased.
26. I’m not sure Wally World has enough bug killer and Lysol spray for this operation.
27. I now understand why we had credit card debt for 25 years.

Monday’s Post: Has it been aegis for you, too? 🙂

You might also like: Lessons Learned from Being a Pansy and No, I Don’t Mean the Flower, The Boy Leaves for Lubbock, and Things I Love about the Man I Married

In the never ending theme of my life, “God has a sick sense of humor,” the hubby and I went off to the big city for an echocardiogram yesterday. Since I have been feeling better and better, I thought this would just be a part of the routine follow-up care one must endure after a heart attack. But, that would be oh, too simple for MaryAnn. Since I have had “echos” before, I knew this one was taking way too long. I could also see the screen this time and even my untrained eye didn’t like what I was seeing. And I was, once again, reading the body language of my echo technician. And it wasn’t good.

Apparently, the echo showed abnormalities. However, I was not scheduled to see the doctor on this visit–just to get the echo. So, after checking with a physician (My doctor wasn’t in the office, of course.), they sent us on our way and said there were no changes to my recuperative care.

While on the way home, we stopped for gas. While my hubby pumped the gas, my cell phone rang. It was my doctor’s nurse. My doctor had reviewed the echo and wanted several changes. First, stop taking the new drug I had just started 2 months ago. Also stop taking aspirin. These meds are usually considered vital in keeping me alive. The reason for stopping these meds? To take Warfarin instead. What?! Apparently, I have a blood clot at the base of my heart. The clot puts me at risk now for a stroke. Joy.

But that wasn’t the worst part. I also needed to start another drug right away, preferably by the end of the afternoon and the orders were to take it twice a day. Guess how you take this med. You self-inject it.

I’m pretty much a human pin cushion from countless allergy shots, hospital IVs, blood draws, etc., but all of those were administered by a medical professional. I’ve never, ever had to inject myself. And since I nearly passed out in 9th grade Biology when we had to prick our fingers to put blood on a microscope slide (I finally had to have my lab partner do it), this is enough to send ol’ MaryAnn to the psych ward for about 2 years.

This could not have happened at a worse time. Normally, I would probably have my son learn how to give me the injections, but he is moving to college this weekend. (He has a new reason to leave home!) Normally, my husband would rearrange his business schedule to help me out, but he is moving both of our sons this weekend. Normally, I know a pile of nursing students from our local university, but all of those have recently graduated and found positions in other communities. Normally, my daughter, who doesn’t live too far away, would probably meet me somewhere and help her poor mother out (even though I’m sure she’d rather go back to grad school!). She’s on a much needed vacation in Colorado with her new husband right now.

I got off the phone and the hubby could tell I was visibly shaken. I repeated what the nurse told me and we drove down the road silently for the next 10 minutes. Silence in the family car usually means something is drastically wrong. Then I received a series of additional phone calls from the same nurse with the following newsflashes: They don’t have the injectable stuff at my normal pharmacy that already understands how much garbage I endure because of my medical adventures, so I had to go through all the insurance garbage at another pharmacy. My primary care physican’s staff would not be able to give me the injections this coming weekend when they were closed. Pharmacies can’t give me the shots, either. I can’t have any alcohol whatsoever. (And after the first phone call, I was thinking inebriation might be the only way I could persuade myself to inject myself two times a day!) I can’t take any pain relievers except Tylenol and I can’t exceed 2000 mg of Tylenol per day (A mere pittance when I’m having a migraine and stress brings on my migraines.) I can’t be on antibiotics while on Warfarin. However, since my doctor won’t allow allergy shots right now, I’m coughing more which generally brings on bronchitis which is usually treated by antibiotics. I have to maintain a healthy diet, but no salad greens of any kind. No broccoli, either (A lot of my Lean Cuisines have broccoli in them.) I take cranberry pills to prevent yeast infections and you can’t take cranberry products when on Warfarin. (Read above to remind yourself about the old antibiotic thing!) Vitamin C and Vitamin K can be an issue, too. And both are in my multi-vitamin, of course.

Oh, and here are the kickers: I have to inject the shots into my stomach; I have to get blood drawn at least every week (maybe 3 times per week); and I’m not allowed to do anything in which I could injure myself (I walk into walls on a good day.) and I’m not supposed to gain any weight. So, how did mature MaryAnn respond? I burst into tears and I have only stopped long enough to consume lots of chocolate and other assorted junk food. I slept a total of 2 hours last night and my heart condition is stress-induced. Guess where my blood pressure was this morning? Right back where it was when I left the hospital in June…and that is NOT good. (It was fine yesterday morning before the appointment.)

So, for the last 18 hours I’ve been trying to do cognitive therapy on myself (There are some perks to having that master’s.) and I do have a contingency plan in effect until I can get my mind around this new little reality. The shots may continue for up to 4 weeks.

While I have a feeling I will have more “lessons to learn” as this progresses, here are the lessons learned (and a bunch of questions) so far from being a big, fat wimp:

1. Is this penance for actually owning Barry Manilow albums in the 70s and singing along to them???

2. Obviously, I’ve gone back to the 1970s, because I am now reverting to the “sailor language” of my college days. (My children do not believe I ever swore…my college homies would vehemently disagree.)

3. I can talk a brave game until I see the actual needle.

4. I have to shoot this stuff into my belly fat. Thanks, doc, for giving me twice daily reminders that I still have belly fat. Do not expect a Christmas present from me this year.

5. It will be easier to shoot this stuff into my belly fat, thanks to all the chocolate I plan to eat for the next 4 weeks….at least.

6. Open heart surgery now sounds so much more appealing.

7. Brain surgery now sounds so much more appealing and that may be what is needed in order for MaryAnn to stick herself on purpose.

8. When I was trying to opt out of this injection nonsense, Jesus chose that precise moment to remind me that he had nails pounded into his feet and hands. Yeah, Jesus. But you didn’t have to pound the nails in yourself.

9. Where is whale blubber when you need it?

10. Can I practice giving injections on my doctor first? (He has no stomach fat, and I’ve decided that’s my Christmas gift to him this year.)

11. Why is the practice needle about 1/3 the size of the one I’m supposed to really use???

12. I’m now beginning to understand why Jesus got perturbed with the disciples for not praying with him in the Garden of Gethsemane.

13. Where is Jeremy Renner when I need him? Or Dr. Marta Schering??? Can I viral my way out of this??? Where are the frickin’ blue and green pills??? I guess I dropped them while jumping from one mountain top to another.

14. If this is what is required of me in my 50s, what will be required of me in my 70s??? Water boarding comes to mind.

15. I’m now reviewing the part of my counseling textbooks on systematic desensitization. My counseling homies just laughed their heads off.

16. I can watch the headlines on the Today show 5 times and still not comprehend what Lauer and Guthrie are still discussing. Savannah did get a new haircut.

17. Sudoku Kingdom is now my favorite new web site….especially at 3 am.

18. Solving world hunger sounds like a much easier problem to tackle today.

19. This pretty much effectively ends the internal discussion I’ve been having with myself (Yes, I’m now hearing voices in my head…not a positive sign for mental stability.) about whether I can continue to organize our church’s little venture to Women of Faith. Right now…I don’t think I effectively fit the description for a Woman of Faith.

20. Maybe coaching others through the stressors in their lives is not a good idea right now…unless misery loves company.

21. The novel was progressing pretty slowly as of late. Warp speed now.

22. Where is my “Get Out of Jail Free” card?

23. When you bawl like a hysterical little 3 year old, your husband will suddenly be willing to give you “the moon.”  And that’s where I’d like to be right now. Last time I checked there were no mean doctors or syringes anywhere on the surface of the moon.

24. When I bawl like a baby, my husband starts bribing random nurses with homemade ice cream. I hope he leaves some for me.

25. I thought masochism was a bad thing.

26. When you get a shot as a kid, the doctor gives you stickers or a lollipop. I better get an All Day Sucker for this venture…each…and every time.

27. As of today, I have a new prescription for Xanax.

28. Looking up the cost of sharps containers online can lead to some interesting pop-up ads. But, I still got the gratuitous Netflix ad.

29. I’m thinking of taking up sword-swallowing as my next hobby.

30. We may need to move up the Hawaii vacation planned for 2017 to…like…tomorrow.

31. It should be easy to get IN to Mexico, right??? If a drug lord points a gun in my face, I’m going to tell him he can have it all, but he has to inject me with 2 syringes a day for the next 10 days. That’s in his job description, isn’t it???

32. The first song on 70s on the 7 this morning was very helpful–“Taking Care of Business.” The second one–not so much: “Freddy’s Dead.”

33. I must have pissed off a gypsy in a former life.

34. Maybe reading a book entitled “Heaven” right now is not such a hot idea.

35. Makeup doesn’t hide the “shopping bags” under my eyes very well. Need to get another vat of concealer the next time I’m at Wally World. Maybe I can pick that up with the sharps container, the Xanax, and the swords. Do you need a license to carry a concealed sword?

36. Even waterproof mascara is pointless at this point…and I don’t really want to talk about points right now…not even Weight Watcher Points. However, I may need Jennifer Hudson to sing to me while I inject myself.

37. Amazon will deliver a semi-load of Godiva chocolates to my house for free by tomorrow morning if I subscribe to Amazon prime.

38. I don’t qualify for home health to help me with the injections because I drive  my own car. So, if I itch my foot, does that mean it rains in Jamaica? Remind me to make sure I have my driver’s license with me when I shoot up.

39. Where is a heroin addict when I need one? He can give me injections and I can give him substance abuse counseling…it’s a win-win, right?

40. I’m looking for a cave to crawl into and if I see any Al Qaeda members there, I’ll let you know.

41. Is this because I had 3 pieces of butterfinger pie last weekend?

42. TSA now has a new reason to completely obliterate any semblance of suitcase organization I might attempt (as if carrying nitro pills weren’t enough).

43. I used to have a phobia about mice.

44. My self esteem went on my Hawaiian vacation without me. It had better take good pics of the volcano.  Of course, TSA could confiscate its camera.

45. I have the greatest friends and family. Thanks for all of the prayers. Please pray that these meds work fast and I can get back to the usual stupid stuff of my life….like facing an empty nest.

You might also like: MaryAnn’s Hospital Survey, Lessons Learned from Completing a Hospital Survey, and This I Just Can’t Resist

Several years ago I wrote about our oldest son leaving for his home away from home, Lubbock, TX. Lubbock is one of the most rapidly growing cities in the state of Texas and a large reason for that growth is the similar growth of Texas Tech University, home of the Red Raiders. Often referred to as “Raiderland,” it’s a great place for a young man to get an education and to further his walk with the Lord. Lubbock is also home to some very innovative, very large churches that cater to the Tech crowd. While there are innumerable “vices” in any college town, a Tech parent can assume that the friendly folks of Lubbock will do their best to help their students navigate the windy, “shark-infested waters” that they will encounter in Raiderland. What we didn’t know in 2004 when we first headed west from our home to visit the land of eternal red and black was the impression it would make on our other two children. Our daughter made Tech her # 2 choice, but wound up elsewhere because she did get an offer of admission from her # 1. And when Tech made the list of schools offering Restaurant, Hotel and Institutional Management, it became the # 1 choice for our youngest son. The youngest easily gained admission to his # 2 and # 3 choices, but Tech had higher standards and we were nervous that he might not be admitted. Fortunately, the folks at Tech saw something in him that we, ourselves, see in him–an uncanny ability in mathematics, an equally uncanny ability in Spanish and music, a love for great food, and a huge heart.

This weekend the youngest departs for Lubbock for the first time and his brother, the Tech alum, will be helping him to move to the very same hall he first inhabited as a freshman. To say that the oldest is rather proud that the baby brother is following in his footsteps is to utter one of the biggest understatements of the century. When that trip takes place, MaryAnn and the hubby will begin the next phase of parenting–the empty nest phase. Anyone who tells you that you stop parenting your children when they leave home obviously has never been a parent. But, it is, indeed, a “whole new ballgame” for us. Many of the feelings I wrote about the eldest leaving are now returning with a vengeance for the youngest. And my, how time flies! Here’s what I wrote about 4-5 years ago, with some additional thoughts in bold for this “go-round”:

The eldest departs for his real home soon, Lubbock. Let’s face it–our little town has not been home for quite some time. (Any parent who has endured the senior year of high school with their student already is getting an idea of that last statement!) And that is how it should be. But when he leaves, I know I’m one step closer to having to go back to reality…you know…working and chauffeuring and grocery shopping and all that stuff that consumes my normal life. (I think I can safely stop the chauffeuring part now!)

But, now I have to hug that big galoot I call a son and remind him to try not to besmirch the family name (He did plenty of that while here, I’m afraid, based on looking at FB pics), do some studying, do some work, call his mom and cut that hair…I couldn’t resist the last part…hee, hee. (I no longer have to study, thanks to completing the master’s a few years ago, but the youngest also needs a haircut.)

While I’m used to such departures, I still welcome and loathe them. I welcome them because it’s fun to watch your kids grow up and become who they’re meant to become and I loathe them because I do love the big galoot, despite his galootness. (Yes, I do love inventing words, especially when I have no earthly idea how to spell them correctly.) And because I love him, I will miss him.

However, I have missed one thing while he has been here. My near daily texts from the galoot brighten my day, even when he’s depressed, even when he’s whining (Yes, he whines…trust me on this….but in a manly way), even when he’s worried, and on the more rare occasions, even when he’s happy. Now, why do even sad, angry, manly whiny texts brighten my day??? Because the boy thought of his mom. A lot of manly men don’t and so, that makes him a good guy in my book…despite the lack of haircut. I did it again…hee, hee. (When he does cut that hair, it will be time to call the funeral director….I will need to be planted in the soil from the sheer shock.)

Safe travels, buddy…have a wonderful spring (this time the Fall semester) semester…enjoy dorm living…enjoy the games and remember to text your mommy. Love you. Oh…and…go to ALL of your classes, study every day and wash your clothing, sheets and towels more than once a millennium. If you want actual dates with the opposite sex, I also suggest bathing daily, wearing deodorant, wearing clean, presentable clothing and brushing your teeth….and cut that hair! 

Monday’s Post: What is meretricious???

You might also like: Things I Love about the Man I Married, What Would an Archaeologist Say About This in 100 Years?, and Why I’m Not a Blogger Blogger

The hubby’s birthday is in a few days and while some of you may remember this note from FB last year, he hasn’t had the chance to see it himself. (He chooses not to be on FB, which would probably be his only fault.) Here’s what I wrote last year: 

Since I have already written lessons I have learned from the hubby last year at this time, I have decided, after spending 12 non-stop days with said hubby (on a vacation to wonderful Alaska) that I should add to the reasons why I’ve decided that spending eternity with this guy is an okay thing to do.  You see, I have not spent 12 days straight with the hubby since before he started working for his present company in 1983.  But, while we make this work and actually work well, we are never really apart.  He calls me every night when he’s away and that started when we were dating. And that leads me to Number 1 and Number 2…

1. He has his priorities straight.  The hubby and I started dating when he was the student manager of the Purdue University dairy.  That meant many potential date nights had to take place at the dairy, because he was “on duty.”  And somehow he made going to that dairy fun and interesting.  One night we were leaning on the fence and enjoying a wonderful Indiana country sunset and one cow came up to the fence to have my hubby scratch her nose.  His comment, “How can you not believe in God when you look at this sunset and this cow?  Both are an engineering and artistic miracle.”  I think I fell in love with him for the first time in that moment. God has always been at the top of his list for all we have done, even though adhering to that was not easy for him.  He even made the DSL promise that our future grandchildren be raised in the faith.  That’s my man.

2. I am next on his priority list.  Despite his hectic schedule and the financial demands of a mortgage, 4 college educations, endless lessons and league fees, etc., the hubby would rather spend his free time and extra cash on me…to a fault.  He very much spoils me rotten.  When I tell him he has spoiled me, he says, “That’s the way I want it.”

3. The kids (and yes, this now includes the DSL) are next after me. Do not get me wrong: If you are my hubby’s kid, I have pity for you, because he refuses to have anything other than the very best from his children in all that they do. If you are told to mow the grass, you’d better mow it with a vengeance! But, that’s just because he demands this of himself.  Let me be clear:  He knows he’s far from perfect and he does not expect perfection from his children, but if he suspects you slacked, you are in big trouble! On the flip side, he would give every one of his “kids” the shirt off his back. If you are his friend or “adopted,” then you can pretty much expect the same. Yes, the hubby has his own set of “adopteds.”

4. He’s ambitious.  I prefer “achievement-oriented.” His visions for the future are as big as the state he lives in.  And there is always a future in his mind.  Example:  I marry him and 4 seconds later he wants to buy a $ 3 million dairy farm. Fortunately, he referred to # 2, saw the petrified look on my face and decided against it. But, that’s my honey. Everything is a big idea!  What’s even more scary is that he usually executes these big ideas ahead of schedule.

5. I can have big eyes for a fabulous dinner menu and never worry about finishing my dinner. Hubby to the Rescue!

6. He’s good at just about everything he does. It’s just fun to watch him try new things.  However, I will always be better at yoga than he.  Unfortunately for me, he. Does. Not. Care. Grr.

7. He can cook and he likes it.  This is essential for one who can cook and does not like it.  And yet, he graciously allows me to make all my comfort foods at Thanksgiving and Christmas.  I particularly like that he makes semi-homemade pancakes for his kids almost every Saturday morning along with omelets and bacon/sausage.  They think he’s the only one who can do so.  🙂

8. He gives back to the community.  If there is a worthy cause, Bruce will do what he can to help out.  You may not always know that he helped, but he probably did. He really does not want the accolades, particularly if he’s doing it for the church, but he’s there when you need him.

9. He seldom misses the big moments in his kids’ lives. Even though he manages almost 1/3 of the U.S. for his company, he works his schedule so that he can be there as much as humanly possible.

10. He’s passionate and enthusiastic.  If he does it, if he experiences it, if he supports it, it’s to the nth degree.  There’s seldom a question about how he feels about something, good, bad or indifferent.  He has more energy in his pinkie (even now) than I have in my entire body…on a good day…a really good day.

11. He’s concerned about his country, his world, and his company.  I’ve seen him forego things that would easily benefit him to take care of someone else a world away, just because it’s the right thing to do and promotes goodness long-term. I wouldn’t argue with him on politics and right and wrong. You’ll lose…trust me.

Are there things about the hubby that drive me crazy?  Absolutely.  In fact, I have a rather lengthy list.  But, would I gladly live with these things to enjoy the “ride” with him and all of the stuff listed above all over again?  Yes, indeedy.  Time and time again, despite his imperfections, he has proven he understands agape love.  I want to grow up someday and be the female version of him.

Happy Birthday, my love!  Enjoy another year of extreme awesomeness!  You deserve it. Oh…and Happy Birthday to his lovely sis and nephew, who happen to have birthdays today!

Monday’s Post: More dictionary fun….Word of the Week!

You might also like: What Would an Archaeologist Say About This in 100 Years? and Lessons Learned from Facebook Page Insights

For the last 2 days, I have relayed the results of the survey I asked my readers to answer. So, what does that mean for MIP going forward? First, let me say that changes right now will all be on a trial basis and as people give me feedback more informally, I will continue to tweak what I’m posting. Keep in mind that the changes are so that I can spend more energy on other projects, such as writing the novel and Lessons Learned book.

But, for now, I will keep doing the Word of the Week posts on Mondays. Do I hear a bunch of you thesaurus junkies rejoicing out there?

I will probably reduce the number of Slow Reader posts, simply because I am a slow reader and need more time to actually digest some books. A significant number of you do like these posts, so I don’t think I want to abandon them entirely. Besides, a writer should read and this makes me accountable! So, expect to see 1 or 2 Slow Reader posts a month.

I will probably continue the 26 Tuesdays post until we are finished with all 26 Sandy Hook victims only because I think that my self-improvement journey should include acts of kindness and again, this keeps me accountable. And because I believe these victims, along with all other victims of senseless crime, should be honored and remembered with “goodness” instead of evil! (May I suggest this for the Trayvon Martin case?) However, don’t expect these posts to be replaced by some other series.

Each week you can expect either a Lessons Learned feature or a serious post or a humorous post. In truth, the Lessons Learned series are often both serious and humorous. Don’t expect a Lessons Learned post every single week. Likewise, don’t expect a serious post every week or a humorous post every week, particularly in the beginning.  You will get at least one of the above each week, though. It will be a surprise!

So, for now, here’s the new format:

Mondays – Word of the Week
Tuesdays – 26 Tuesdays
Wednesdays – No Post
Thursdays – Random, Surprise Post
Friday – No Post
Saturday & Sunday – No Post

Later on, the format will look like this:

Mondays – Word of the Week
Tuesdays – No Post
Wednesdays – Random, Surprise Post
Thursdays – No Post
Fridays – Either a Slow Reader Post or a Random, Surprise Post
Saturday & Sunday – No Post

And, I will probably send out links for the new posts around 11 am, which is a much more sane hour for me right now. I will make this more and more “like clockwork” as time goes on, but expect some variation short term because of my current health adventures. I am finding that recuperation from this latest adventure is taking more time than I thought it would.

Many, many thanks to my readers! You are blowing my mind…in a good way and I treasure each and every comment and email you have sent my way to encourage me while I continue to recuperate. You bless me in ways you don’t even fathom!

Next Post: The Return of….the Word of the Week!

You might also like: Word of the Week: flehmen, 26 Tuesdays: Caroline Previdi, Slow Reader Thursdays: Quitter, and Lessons Learned from Heart Attacks 3 & 4

For those who don’t know already, my Facebook blog page gives me “Page Insights.” This is Facebook-speak for statistics. I have now endured 5 semesters of statistics and it’s 5 semesters of my life I will never get back. To add to my nightmare, “Google Analytics” is also available to me. Understanding Google Analytics is sort of like trying to understand how God can be 3 Persons and yet, one Being. In other words, I need a Ph.D. in Mathematics to understand it. Page Insights is a little easier to understand. Emphasis on the word “little.”

1. I feel honored that Zuckerberg has elected to have me give feedback about the new version of Page Insights. Dang. His marketing worked again.
2. Since many of the graphs are in layered shades of blue, it’s a little like trying to explain the difference between ecru and ivory to your husband.
3. I used to think “Reach” was how long my arm extended from my body. I was wrong. It has to do with how many people see my blog page posts…I think.
4. Engagement has nothing to do with the “adopteds” getting married. That’s good, because I don’t have enough bucks in my bank account to buy that many wedding presents.
5. Heart attacks are good for my “reach” and “engagement.”
6. Based on # 5, y’all are really sick and twisted. Fortunately, I know a counselor who can help you with that. Oh. Wait. She’s sick and twisted, too. Never mind.
7. My recent status statements amuse you. Conclusion? The drugs are working.
8. My readers are more engaged when they misunderstand my status statements. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with me being unclear.
9. There are a lot of really big peaks and really big valleys on my graphs. We’re talking Himalaya-sized here.
10. Based on # 9, I’m very unpredictable. It couldn’t possibly mean my writing is inconsistent.
11. Red arrows and numbers are bad. I used to like red.
12. The number of “likes” for my blog page goes dramatically upward after 6/14/2013. See # 5.
13. The “likes” can come from API stories and ads on Facebook.
14. I don’t have any “likes” from # 13.
15. I am okay with # 13. API stories generally make me nervous. Ditto for Facebook ads.
16. There is an “unlike” button on Facebook. Unfortunately, only those of us who have professional pages can see it…when someone hates us. Thanks, Facebook.
17. My self-esteem just plummeted. Thanks, Facebook.
18. All of my “reach” is organic. I guess that would be when I extend my arm to add to my compost pile and when Maizie “fertilizes” our grass??? So glad I don’t use pesticides on my blog. I really don’t need cancer-causing agents on top of heart attacks.
19. Nobody shares my stuff. That’s okay–I didn’t want other people’s germs anyway.
20. My readers are not morning people. I knew y’all were “my people.”
21. I can stop putting up posts at 7 am. See # 20.
22. Some of you actually work at 8 am in the morning. You’re also rather productive at 9 am, 2 pm, 4 pm and 8 pm. Now you’re spooked, right???
23. I promise I won’t tell your boss about #22.
24. Teens aged 13-17 don’t read my stuff. This makes me officially irrelevant to the next generation. Thanks, Facebook.
25. 75% of my readers are female. I guess I need to do more posts on sports, beer, and sex?
26. My stuff appeals to women my own age. Because women my age run the world.
27. I’m okay with # 26.
28. My next biggest group of readers? Young moms…probably because they’re tired of listening to Barney all day.
29. I have 4 fans from the UK. I prefer to think of them as Liz, Will, Kate and Harry.
30. I appeal to people from 13 different states….of mind.
31. Based on # 30, I can run for President and win, right?
32. I am okay with not doing # 31.
33. I have one fan from Hungary. Thank you, exchange student programs and thank you, Sophie. I am now “global.”
34. I could die from a heart attack waiting for some of Zuckerberg’s graphs to load. See # 5.

You might also like: Lessons Learned from Counting Quarters, Lessons Learned from Completing a Hospital Survey, and Lessons Learned from Recuperating

Some good friends of ours are taking a well-deserved vacation this week and they came to our aid when I was going through my little health crisis in ways that most will never know. I’m not sure that the hubby would function well without these good buddies.

They own a business that is largely coin-operated and thus, we were honored and grateful to have an opportunity to return the favor and collect, count and deposit the proceeds from their business this week. Most of the coins are quarters and so, the youngest, the hubby and I were all sitting at the kitchen table today sorting, wrapping and recording the amounts collected. Let’s just say it was a good week for their business. 🙂 Here’s what I learned along the way:

1. People must put quarters in mud, grease, oil, garbage cans, and on the dirty backsides of babies before using them to pay for stuff.
2. My fingers now smell and look like all the aforementioned of # 1.
3. I used to think the backsides of babies were cute.
4. I need a manicure now.
5. I may need industrial strength steel wool to get my hands clean again.
6. My index finger gets sore after wrapping $ 1000 worth of quarters.
7. I wrap faster than the youngest. Yay! One thing I can do faster than the next generation. Somehow I don’t think they care.
8. I am quarter counting machine challenged. And all it requires is cranking a handle.
9. My self-esteem has plummeted.
10. If I want to lose my hearing, sit next to the hubby cranking quarters through a metal machine. Hello, quiet plastic????
11. I will be dreaming of orange quarter wrappers, 50-state themed quarters, George Washington, and eagles tonight. Thank God that Benjamin Franklin did not get his way to make the national bird a turkey.
12. # 11 will not be in a good way. And now I’ll probably be dreaming about Ben and turkeys, as well. *sigh*
13. The hubby and I used to think that such a coin-operated business might be a good retirement venture for us. Now I’m thinking battling pit vipers is looking much better.
14. I consume my weight in tortilla chips, water, and slices of ham when counting quarters.
15. I need a bottle of extra strength Tylenol, maximum strength ibuprofen, and my migraine meds for #10.
16. When running out of wrappers, find your garage sale cash box. Yessssss! 32 more quarter wrappers and a pile of dollar bill wrappers. Oh. Wait. More wrapping and machine cranking. Boo.
17. I don’t think “bank teller” is in my future as my next vocation.
18. The worst thing you could do for a hurting index finger is type a new post for your blog. My keyboard is now dirty. See # 1. Ick.
19. I may have to use another finger for the next round of coin wrapping. I think it should be my tallest finger. How about you? It’ll reach farther into the wrapper to straighten out quarters, right?
20. If you really believe my reasoning for # 19, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I’d like to sell you. And no, you can’t pay for it in quarters.

You might also like: Lessons Learned from Completing a Hospital Survey, Lessons Learned from Recuperating, Lessons Learned from Heart Attacks 3 & 4