Cleaning & Organizing, Cooking

It’s Gonna Get Wild Up In Here

It’s Gonna Get Wild Up In Here



I’m just telling you now, It’s Gonna Get Wild Up In Here this week! What I had planned will probably not come to pass this week. Well, that’s not true. Most of it will be the same but with some sharp curves and turns as the week moves on. However, I must prepare myself for the meltdown that I feel sure will come by the weekend.


Usually, I get my grocery order placed and ready to pick up by Monday. Did I do that? No. I sure did not. I have my menu (posted yesterday) but that means nothing. I know what I need, I just haven’t done it. Also on Sunday, I schedule out my work stuff for the week. That means, all I have to do is clock in and clock out throughout the week. How hard is that. I mean I even set my alarm to remind me to do so. Have I done that? No. I sure have not. I’ve pretty much done nothing today. I colored and watched a movie. That sums up my Sunday.


I have a hair appointment (everybody say “hey”). Super excited about that. Hair day is always a good day! Also, a young person needs me to cut his hair. It really is no big deal. I can cut hair but when it is someone new, I cry. Every single time. I mean I don’t do it in front of the person but I will either cry before or after. Let’s all collectively pray that he doesn’t look Amish.

Also, I may have a sweet little person come over. She is needing some guidance and we were a big part of her life for a long time, so she may pop over. If she does, she may go to the basketball game with me. What my conundrum is is when am I going to clean the house because I did not have time to do a Friday Reset.

In between my hair appointment, the hair cut I have to do, my little person coming over, and basketball is when I will clean. Sure, that sounds doable. We will go with that. I had planned on setting out the ham and hashbrown casserole for supper. However, I’m really craving spaghetti carbonara. Yet, one child has requested my roasted butternut squash spaghetti. I can’t have pasta that much during the week…or can I?


This is my son-in-laws birthday. It will be a hard day for him due to some circumstances but we will make sure he knows how loved he is! I am not sure if he will be coming over for his birthday dinner or want to wait. We have another basketball game tonight, so you know…I’m thrilled.

I’m going to have to go to the grocery at some point. Honestly, I don’t know when that point will be. I would like to have my parents over for supper since it is his birthday, but I guess that depends on what day we celebrate on. That reminds me, I have to wrap his presents. By “I” that means my husband cause I don’t wrap things.


Basketball…cause why not. I mean we are wild.

Thursday Errands

We are meeting with a new neuro possibility for one of my kids. He is affiliated with the hospital we have been attending but he is at a satellite office. I have no idea how familiar he is with Opsoclonus Myoclonus but I guess we shall see. At some point, we are going to have to officially change doctors or go back to Pittsburgh where Dr. Thakker is located. She is amazing.

It is getting close to time for his yearly surgeries/scans/checkups and I really do not want to go back to the doctor we had been seeing. There is never anything accomplished or decided. Frankly, she irritates me. Oh and guess what? We have another baseball game. I know you are jealous. Luckily, I have therapy before that game. I may need it.

Friday and Saturday will be Cleaning and Organizing

Basketball and more basketball. Though my goal is to get the house clean on Monday, I will get back on my schedule on Friday to deep clean (again). I know it is redundant but my OCD wants me to be on a schedule. It’s just got to get done. There is no way around it. One of my kids has some therapy appointments. Saturday I would love to clean out the garage and organize it! I am also wanting to work on a capsule wardrobe to minimalize my clothes.

Life or Something Like It

The Ability to Laugh Again

The Ability to Laugh Again

The Ability to Laugh Again

The ability to laugh again brings me joy. I tell you all what. I was having a moment tonight because of sheer confusion over the difference between an abstract and an introduction paragraph. So, I had Bart come upstairs to share my confusion and angst. He sweetly sat and rubbed my feet, repeating, “No, we are not getting another cat. We aren’t going to name it Suzanne or Kathy. No, I won’t write this for you because I don’t know how. Honestly, I do not see a flea in your hand.” 

At least he rubbed my feet. 

As we talked, we giggled about some of our parenting moments. When I say giggling, we were laughing so hard he had to take an Excedrin, and I might have peed a little. One of our children, to say they were guilt free of oversight, shared that they know the “brand” of poop everyone has in the house. This child went further to pick up and sniff a turd in the floor to determine that it was not animal feces but another human in our home. Let me be obvious, it was Lola’s poop (she was our dog). There was no human pooping on my floor. 

Another child convinced a sibling to “stand real still” in the yard. As I was coming downstairs, I questioned why said child was standing in the yard. This child never stands still and is never quiet. My other child informed me that this child had been convinced that a bird would eat off their head if it stood real still. 

The Pee Saga

One time, we had two boxwood bushes in front of our house. They were located right at the front door and were huge. Over a few months, I noticed they were dying from the top down. It was the weirdest thing. Then, I saw an odor that I couldn’t place. Around that time, we visited a local church. This church, at the time, was one that the pastor would come by to say hi to those that visited. He did…surprising us all. When he came up to the door, and I opened it, shocked to see him, he said, “it smells like pee out here.” We explained it was a tomcat that had sprayed, and we apologized. In the back of my mind, I reasoned that that was what it was because there was no other explanation, yet it didn’t smell like cat pee.

After the pastor left, two children said it was not cat pee. It was their pee. When they let the dogs out, they stood on the porch and peed on top of the bushes. I asked what happened when the cars went by. They said, “we smile and wave as you taught us.” Yes, they did that while peeing on my bushes. I tried to be strong and told them they could not pee in the front yard, and my husband was not happy with them because we had smelled that for months, and those bushes were huge. It was going to take an act of congress to cut them down. Bart made me leave the room because I was doubled over laughing so hard that I cried. 

Mystery Voice from the Woods

One child was outside singing by the tree one night. The rest of us (all of us) were in the house playing cards around the table. This child comes flying in, asking who was outside hiding. We stated that we were all inside and didn’t know what was happening and why this child was so disturbed. This child was singing, and someone in the dark screamed, “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up now!” This child thought if it wasn’t one of us or that, it could have been God telling this child to stop singing. We still have no idea who was screaming in the dark for this child to stop. 

Pool Noodle Mystery

We discovered that poop peels off the wallpaper. Boogers will dry and, when scraped, goes down to the drywall. A child ate all our pool noodles in one year. Ate them. The same child ate the wallpaper off the walls. One child swung on the bar because they wanted to be Tarzan…only to realize that their butt would go through the wall into another child’s room. 

Large Family Life

I mean, I could go on and on and on. We laughed and laughed. It has not been easy raising a large family with the needs some family members have and currently have. There has been tremendous trauma throughout the years, but it peaked around the time co-vid hit. We miss them all here. I miss having all my children under one roof for family meals, birthdays, and holidays. Yet, I have not allowed myself to dwell on it. We have forgotten how to laugh, and we let the bad moments overshadow the funny things that have happened over the years. 

Yet, We are healing. We are safe. I know we are good parents who are human and make mistakes. We have learned that not all “friends” are friends. Also, we have leaned on each other and gotten stronger. We were not (are not) perfect parents. However, we completely love Jesus, each other, our children, and our grandchildren. We love all of them. Each one of my children is entirely different. There is no one way to parent. Parenting must be tailored to each child. They had a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and Jesus. 

Thankful to Laugh

I am thankful for those years of having everyone here. I am grateful for where I am today. No longer will I dwell in the shadow of the pain that happened. My joy will not be stolen. Friends…eventually, the rain stops, and the rainbow emerges. As Jesus says…there may be a pain in the night, but JOY comes in the morning. 

Joy is coming back to this household. I can pray for reunification all day long; that is what I want for my family. However, I will not let it steal my joy of living. Today, I challenge you to find your happiness! For now, I will find out how to write this abstract, so I can turn this stupid paper into my professor! 

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Faith Journey

Setting Boundaries VS Putting Up Walls

Setting Boundaries VS Putting Up Walls

Setting Boundaries VS Putting Up Walls

Setting Boundaries VS Putting Up walls is something I struggle with because I sometimes live in fear. I am choosing not to live in fear because fear is a liar. Honestly, I am so tired of living under the judgment of others. Let me tell you something, friends, oh my word. I’m fixing to use my words and all of them. My words may not be pretty, but sometimes you must let it out.

I will have to take a few minutes and watch a Chopped episode. My brain moves faster than my fingers, and the emotions are strong. Let’s say I am completely and totally over it. A change is coming, and it may take till Jesus returns, but I am done!

Let’s Try This Again

I am not a people person. Yet, I’m empathetic (so I’ve been told), and I have the heart to help others. Those people who are unseen. People that other people snub their noses at because they don’t dress/live/act “appropriately.” I’m just saying that those are my people. I see them, I feel them, I understand them.

Their problems, I feel deep within my soul. The look in their eyes can tell a thousand stories, and they want to share that story. They want to be loved, accepted, and NOT judged. I CHOOSE to love, take, and not pass judgment on them. Honestly, I want to meet them where they are currently and walk into their world. It is an honor to step into their stories.

Hard Realization

What a brutal realization that most people in this world do not think the same way. I just don’t get it. How can you not love and SEE the people around you? The unseen, the less than, the “you are not in my circle. Therefore, you do not exist” people.

For the love of all that is holy, Jesus’ second greatest commandment is to LOVE OTHERS. Matthew 22: 36-40 clearly states, “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: ‘ Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. The first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.’

The Things That Have Happened

I cannot and will not detail the struggles we have had this summer. It has hit me hard that not everyone thinks like this. Love as Jesus says to love. What they want is to steal, kill, and destroy my joy. My joy is my family. They are all I think of and commit to 100% every minute of every day.

So Much Loss and Pain

The loss and pain were entirely preventable. Let’s try something radical. If you think something is wrong with a friend or their family, then TALK TO THEM. Ask how you can help them, pray for them without details, and listen to their cry. Clean their house, run an errand, cook a meal. Be the hands and feet of Jesus.

Radical, you think?


Well, our outcome has been standing on Exodus 14:14 “The Lord will fight your battle. You have to be quiet.” I was quiet. There were lots of tears, lots of reflection. There was a period of hiding, a valley of severe depression and anxiety, another medical condition for a child due to the STRESS so-called “friends” put us through. Thank you for that, honestly. It’s been the most fun.

My Oak

This woman. She blew in like a whirlwind. Then, she ironed out all the people in my house. Next, she found me. With that hug, I melted into her arm. I felt her love permeate every single molecule of my body.

She gently walked me upstairs, and we both lay down and talked. I cried, and she sat in silence and rubbed my hair like when I was a little girl. She permitted me to wallow for a day, but tomorrow I have to get up and wash my face and face the day. There will be no hiding for her little girl.

She loves me. Unconditionally. She sees me. Truthfully. She knows all that has happened, yet she loves those who hurt her baby so profoundly. My kids will be blessed if I am 1/2 the mama she is when I grow up. She blesses me.

A Few True Friends

We discovered those who would stand by us and those who judge us. Prayer warriors surrounded us and kept us safe. We stood before God clean. Our family came out on the other side with no truth coming from the claims and lies.

For Now

I choose self-care. Pet a cat (or 12), bake, eat candy, smile more, block people on social media, keep loving on the “less of these” people, wash my hands, wear a mask, parent my kids, love my husband, and love my God. My enemies cannot hurt me because God goes before me, after me, and stands on each side of me. If you want to get to my family or me, you must go through Him first.

Good luck to you.




Faith Journey, Opsoclonus Myoclonus Syndrome

A Moment I Won’t Soon Forget

A Moment I Won't Soon Forget

A Moment I Won’t Soon Forget

A Moment I Won’t Soon Forget was this past Sunday, Big Daddy and I decided that we would go to church with my mama. See her Sunday School Class (the Empty Nesters), as she collected money from the past 2 Christmases and donated it to our fund for Louisville. We put ALL donated money in a plastic money bag and marked it Lville. We use this for gas, to and from, snacks, food, and hotel stays. I made last year’s donation stretch quite a bit. Honestly, we made it almost until the end of the year. This year, they surprised us and did it again. We are so humbled and grateful.

Saying Thank You

My days are short and busy, so getting to the store to buy a thank you card seemed an impossible task. I didn’t know if I could find one that could do justice in expressing ourselves. These people had never met us. They have never met my son, they know what my parents tell them, and it is hard for our parents to understand the ins and outs of this life-altering thing that H has been diagnosed with. I thought it would be best to personally go, introduce them to H and the rest of my family, answer some questions, and thank them.


We got there, and their SS teacher, Donnie, stepped out into the hall. When my crew walked in (everyone but my oldest daughter), the look of surprise on my daddy’s face and my Martha’s was a good moment. After being introduced to everyone and them, so graciously feeding my kids. LOL. I looked over, and there stood my daddy with the fellas. He was drinking his coffee. See, the thing is that, growing up, my dad came for holidays and if one of us girls sang. That was it. I never knew him to go to SS, he would slip in for those brief moments in a big church, and then he would leave as quickly as he could.


In my adult life, I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen him in a church (except for weddings). My mom faithfully has always gone while dragging her kids behind her 🙂 I was overwhelmed by the sight of him standing there. He wasn’t there because he was forced. Amazingly, he was there because he wanted to be there. He was surrounded by men and women of God who love him. He CHOSE to go. He drives by himself.

It is cold outside, like bitterly cold, and since his medical issues (stroke 2 yrs ago and quadruple bypass earlier this year), he can hardly handle the cold. Yet, there he stood. With that grin on his face, he took it all in. He has been in church since God shook him to the core about 11 years ago. During that time, he fell in love with my mama again. Daddy fell in love with God again. His SS teacher is a retired cop. He knows the things my daddy has gone through. He can sympathize and empathize. They are like a little match made in heaven.


I am in awe of the goodness of Jesus. I’m blessed to have parents who love each other. I saw my daddy….in a Sunday school class….because he wanted to be there. My heart. My parents had stood in front of me, protecting me from the world besides me as I made tough decisions, and behind me to hold me up when I started to fall. They have done anything that I’ve asked of them and then some. I can never repay them.

My rainbow is growing 🙂


Life or Something Like It

My Oak My Mama

My Oak My Mama

My Oak My Mama

When I think of an Oak Tree, I think of being little and standing next to the giant oak tree in our yard. It was so big that I could not wrap my arms around it.

I remember looking up at it and seeing it touch the clouds. The giant limbs stand firm in the wind while the little limbs sway back and forth.

I can still see the beautiful leaves that protect me from the sun. I also vividly remember the life living on and around it. The ants and critters crawled up the massive trunk of this tree.

Then, when I look down, I am standing on the roots. These roots are so big that they are bulging out of the ground. I can follow the roots from the tree’s base for as far as they reach.

Many days, I stood in awe of the beauty of this massive living thing that God created.

This mighty tree may bend, but it never breaks.

Our oak tree provides shade in the summer. It loses its leaves in the fall, and the old things pass away. The leaves dying allows the sun to shine through the branches and provide heat on a cold day. In the spring, new life forms, and it begins again.

The circle of life in this tree.

My favorite tree is a tree of strength, honor, and consistency. An oak tree to lean on in hard times. This oak tree brings me joy at the sight or the rustle of the leaves.

I would like to introduce to you my Oak, my Mama.

Thank you, Mama, for loving me without abandon and giving me solid roots.

Thank you for being that big, sturdy branch while I flopped in the wind.

You led me to Christ through your faithfulness in your walk.

Also, for guiding me back to Christ when I wandered off and got lost.

You have always loved my husband and my children.

Thankful that you have never judged but were consistent with your faithfulness.

For showing me love when I was unlovable.

You have taught me values and stood up for me.

Mama, you rescued me, rocked me, and baked with me.

More importantly, mashed potatoes, macaroni & cheese, green beans & potatoes, and lima beans for your fried chicken.

You, my Marth, have been a living, breathing example of a Proverbs 31 woman.

You, my sweet Martha, are Oak Tree.


Guest Blogger

The Things You Need to Know About Nana

The Things You Need to Know About Nana

The Things You Need to Know About Nana

In The Things You Need to Know About Nana, my guest blogger uses her words to convey the love she has for her grandmother. They had a tight bond that this young girl missed terribly.

Dearest Nana

The past six years of my life have been awful, and you not being here has made that even. You were my person, and you left me. I had to deal with everything alone, and to be honest. I am sick of it. You were the glue that held the family together. Once you died, everything changed. I wish I could put into words how much I miss you. Honestly, I know it is selfish, but I would give anything for you to be here with me. I feel like life would be better if you were here. Sadly, I miss my best friend, the one I knew I could count on for everything. I miss the person who was brutally honest with me. 

I wish we could lie together and watch one more scary movie. Or, I wish I could sleep in the bed with you one more time. I wish I could hear more stories from your childhood. I always enjoyed those. Furthermore, I want to listen to you try to pronounce “Aluminum” one last time. That was hilarious. I took my time with you for granted. 

I’m sorry I couldn’t heal you. I couldn’t make you feel better. I did everything I could. It’s important you know I did my best. I was young, and I did the best I could. When you first got sick, I prayed to God that you at least lived until I was Eleven. Two and a half months after my Eleventh birthday, you died. That has haunted me since the day you died. I’m sorry. Losing you is one of the hardest things I have ever gone through, and it’s a wound time will never heal.


Today, I am thankful for my granny. There has never been another person like her. She loved so completely. I miss her face, her hugs, and her love. Granny knew everything. I could come to her with anything, and she would tell me what to do. When I was in the wrong, she was quick to correct me. Yes, I would cry, hurting my feelings, but in the end, she was right. Geez, I miss her.



Weiner Wink Memories

realistic shelf-cooking,shelf-cooking recipe,weiner winks recipe,weiner winks memories,kraft cheese slices,large family,easy dinner recipe,pigs in a blanket recipeWeiner Wink Memories

It has been a minute or two since I have blogged. I have a lot to say, but the words in my head will not trickle out of my fingertips. So, today we shall chat about Weiner Wink Memories.

It’s pretty simple. Take a piece of biscuit dough (some fancy people use crescent rolls) and flatten it out. Then, take a part of cheese (Kraft) and lay it on top of the biscuit. Next, grab your hotdog and slice it down the middle (not all the way). Finally, roll it up and bake it at 350 for about 10 minutes. Enjoy.

Treasured Times

My mom would make Weiner Winks I think most people call them Pigs in a Blanket) when I was a little girl. It was such a treat! We would get those little bitty biscuits, REAL Kraft cheese (1/2 slice per wink), and hotdogs. It was an exciting night for us kids. Almost as exciting as grocery day when she would get a bag of Doritos and a REAL coke for hamburger night (again, a 1/2 slice of cheese per burger)!

As I type this, I have a grin from ear to ear! It is the small things of life that can bring such joy. We didn’t have much money, yet we didn’t want anything. Martha and Pop never let on that we needed anything. Such good parents. I adore them.

Passing it All Down

As of late, my son-in-law has dubbed Wednesday “Weiner Wednesday.” He and Big Daddy grill brats, Oscar Meyer Weiners, and whatever else floats their boat. Tonight is 50-cent corndogs (vomit) at Sonic, so they wanted to do that. For us “non-corndog people,” I am making Weiner winks with the itty bitty biscuits and a FULL slice of cheese! It tickles my soul that a childhood favorite of mine is such a thrill for all my kids. My big kids are even coming! It makes my heart smile.



Life or Something Like It

One Little Two Little Three Little Vacuum Cleaners

One Little Two Little Three Little Vacuum CleanersOne Little Two Little Three Little Vacuum Cleaners

In One Little Two Little Three Little Vacuum Cleaners, this is something no one can make up. Okay, there were Four Little Vacuum Cleaners. There are some things that you should never say outside of the four walls of your home, yet, I am.

This is a no-judgment zone.

I made an epic mistake on my last HUGE quest to de-funk my boys’ room. I didn’t trust my God-given senses—the literal and figurative ones. Nor did I heed the warning from not one of my children, not two of my children, but ALL SIX KIDS. Honestly, I shooed them away because A) I was trying to hurry, B) The room smelled so bad, and I didn’t feel like any human being should be subjected to that odor (how do boys/men tolerate that stench), C) I feared for their lives in that room D) and I didn’t want my boys to come in (or my girls) and see what all I was doing (aka throwing away).

So, there you have it.

I had gutted the room, except for the beds. We had a set of bunk beds, but there was a captain’s style bed at this time. The beds had drawers underneath the mattress. I had stuff in piles; legos, clothes, stuffed animals, papers, dress-up clothes, etc.).

The Bumblebee

Once I had them in piles, I prepared to move them to their rightful place (i.e., the trash can or the appropriate container or drawer). I whipped out my giant bumblebee yellow vacuum cleaner. Oh, how I loved this vacuum cleaner. I was vacuuming around the piles, just getting up the significant chunks.

First, I decided that I needed to vacuum out the inside of the t-tiny closet. I got the floor good and clean, and I thought it would be good to use the hose and vacuum up around the cracks because it was nasty. The hose is SUPER long (I did love that vacuum cleaner), so I had the main part of the cleaner in the middle of the floor, and I stretched the hose to where I needed it to be. There was no pulling/tugging, and I was intensely focusing on the dirt that had made its home in the closet.

Smoke Screen

When I am focused on something, there is nothing that can distract me. I mean, nothing. Honestly, I am zoomed in and going to town. I noticed a smell of smoke, but I thought it was nothing. Sadly, I didn’t see any smoke. Therefore there was no smoke.

My kids started trickling down the hall, and I heard statements like, “mom, the hall is filled with smoke. Hey, mom, where is that smoke coming from. Mom, I smell something burning.” I’m thinking, “whatever, it’s all good, and do not come and bother me.”

  1. Am. Stupid.

I continue to vacuum, and I glance over at the base of the vacuum, and in my mind, I think, “huh, I thought that vacuum was yellow.” That day, it looked a bit more orange in color. I disregard my thought and press on with my cleaning.

After a few more minutes, I thought the room looked a bit smoky, and an odd smell was going on. I looked over at the vacuum cleaner, and alas, I was in the process of sucking up Catfish’s army pants that are made out of that nylon stuff. It was spinning around the bottom, much like a tire spinning out.

There was the smell of smoke and stench. The roller was going so fast that it got his pants so hot, and before you know it, it was on fire. My vacuum was not orange because I wasn’t paying attention. It was orange cause it was on fire.

I quickly turned off, unplugged the cleaner, and tried to salvage the pants, but the char and burn marks were too much to repair. That, and my vacuum was dead. Dead. Not just a “let me pull the stuff out, and it will run again,” but dead.

Vacuum #2

I had a little vacuum that I used on my hardwood floors. It is a Bissell, and I enjoy it probably more than I should. It makes me happy seeing all the dirt go away and hearing the “ping ping” of dirt pop inside it.

When we first got it, I was so enthralled that I vacuumed multiple times daily. It was so much, according to Big Daddy. He didn’t enjoy it nearly as much as I did. I could use it on the carpet since I was a vacuum cleaner.

And that’s what I get for thinking.

I swept away and thought, “Hey, it looks smoky here.” Yet, the previous day’s problem did not even dawn on me. I was running through the house, getting up the bits and pieces of nasty on my floor, and I realized that a trail of smoke was surrounding me.

I look down, and my sweet little Bissell is on fire. It didn’t like carpet :/

Vacuum #3

I may or may not claim fame to this one.

After I burned up the second vacuum, my friend loaned me hers. I was thrilled to be able to run another big girl vacuum in the house. Stupidly, I thought my last two issues were just a fluke.

I used it.

I liked it.

It made me happy.

I returned it.

I got a call, and Melissa said: “I think my vacuum is on fire.” She went running it to her house, and it was burned up.

Vacuum #4

A friend gave me an excellent large vacuum. It was used but still in good condition. When I was cleaning this week, I once again smelled smoke.

I just don’t get it.

I do not get it.


Life or Something Like It

Fat Girls and Field Mice

Fat Girls and Field Mice

Fat Girls and Field Mice. Let’s pretend you are a fly on the wall. Here I am, heading to bed, when I think to myself. I say, “self, you need to get one of those little love notes from your love notebook. Then, you need to put it in Big Daddy’s lunchbox to give him a thrill.” So, after I had already been upstairs and snuggled in bed at about midnight, I decided that I should do this.

Trying to be Sneaky

So, I grab a note and head downstairs, being very quiet. I think Big Daddy can hear me from across the house, up the stairs, with three fans on and the bedroom door shut. I’m trying to be very, very sneaky. Once in the kitchen, I realized that his lunchbox was in the pantry. I open the pantry door, and what should run over my feet but a mouse. The mouse and I had a conversation, but she had already set up home and had her apron on, and there was no negotiating.

Things I do not do

Now, I’m a woman that can do a lot of things. I do not do three things: 1) get in boats, 2) touch dead, raw chickens, and 3) mice.

So, what does this fat girl do?

She grabs her boobs and jumps up and down, squealing like a 12 yr old school girl. Then, I freeze. I stand there in silence, wondering if the warmth I’m feeling is the fireplace or pee running down my legs? It was the fireplace 🙂 I tiptoe into the dining room, get the big dog bed, and quietly scootch it to the pantry door to prevent the said mouse from escaping.

Next, I run upstairs.

I’m not so quiet as I stand in front of Big Daddy. I am jumping up and down and squealing that there is a mouse. The mouse is the size of Montana. It is living in the pantry, which is very close to my coke. He must; HE MUST go and do something about it. My nerves are getting the best of me, and I sweat in inappropriate places, and the onset of gas could rival any sonic boom.

He finally gets up, fussing the whole time, and ambles (think John Wayne) towards the kitchen. He ever so slowly (Big Daddy doesn’t get in a hurry) goes into the laundry room to get glue traps. He intends to put it down and capture the mouse.

Being the supportive wife that I am.

I stand, on the chair, in the dining room, yelling supportive statements like, “I love you. You are wonderful. Thank you. This mouse is huge. It will eat your feet. Focus! Focus! It’s gonna get out! I’ll get a cat and we can throw it in there” I got several dirty loving looks from him. It was a moment.

Get a Cat

The glue trap method was not working, so he told me to get a cat. I love cats. I do. We’ve had upward of 20 cats in the last year. I stand outside (in my drawers, freezing) and yell for them. Martha comes running up. I grabbed and tossed her from the dining room to the kitchen, where Big Daddy was standing guard. He throws Martha into the pantry and shuts the door.

Funniest Thing Ever

I must say, I snickered a bit when he cracked the door open because he was afraid the cat could not see in the dark to catch the mouse. He was trying to help poor Martha. Every time he cracked the door open, Martha would dodge out. I could feel her screaming “SANCTUARY.” She wanted outside. After failed attempts with Martha, I finally granted her wish and let her out.

Poor Starr

About that time, Starr ran up. She isn’t the nicest of all cats, but I thought her tenacity and hatefulness would do the job. Alas, the same scene continued to play out. Open the door, and toss Starr in. Close the door, crack the door because of pity, and Starr escapes. It was something to behold.

The Last Attempt

On the last attempt (while I’m still standing in the chair being supportive), he throws the cat in one last time. I’m wondering if the cat is going to do her job. Yet, before the thought continued out of my head, here comes the mouse. It is scurrying out of the pantry while Big Daddy is doing a jig. Honestly, I’m surprised the next county didn’t hear the screams coming out of my mouth. I’m ** surprised that I didn’t break my chair because big girls do not need to be jumping on the furniture. Starr goes one way, and the mouse goes the other way.

It Went from Wence It Came

The mouse heads back from where it came under my cabinet. The cat flies out the door, fur flying. Big Daddy yells at me for screaming and “scaring the mouse.” I mean, seriously…I scared the mouse. He fusses at me until he is back in bed.

Didn’t Meet My Goal

I told him, “my goal was to be all seductive and cool and put a love note in your bag. I’m thinking you are just going to have to deal with granny panties. Also, hair long enough to braid on my legs cause I am not doing that again.” As I finally calm down and relax, I hear him say, “you know, mice can climb stairs and squeeze under doors. She may end up in bed with us.” I dreamt of field mice and told my husband that he was rotten.

The mouse is still out there. It is somewhere that is beyond the cabinets. The mouse is just waiting. Big Daddy and I have been outsmarted in a week by a pig and a mouse. Is it just me and my life, or do other people experience this trauma? I mean, seriously.

Where are my nephews and their homemade blowdarts when you need them? *Sigh*


Life or Something Like It

Vomit and a One-Eyed Rooster

Vomit and a One-Eyed Rooster

Vomit and a One-Eyed Rooster Named Nugget and the Complexities of Life. It is a beautiful fall day. The wind is whippin’ through the trees. Oh, and the clouds are floating around like cotton balls. Then there is the smell of burning leaves outside. Sadly, there is also the smell of vomit inside. Ahhhh, you must love these little moments of life.

Sweet Nothings

As I was in a peaceful slumber, my sweet stud of a husband crawled into bed. He cuddles up with what I thought were the whisperings of sweet nothings in my ear. Alas, it was the whisperings of “Peach just puked in her bed.” He sure does know how to get a girl moving 🙂 Bless his precious pea-picking heart, and he took care of the “mess.” He shook out the chunks off the blanket. Alas, it was close to the patio and onto the boxwood outback. He even washed the blanket for me.  

Puker #1 & Puker #2

I went downstairs to check on said puker, which was pretty pathetic. She had a puke bowl and was looking a bit gross. I asked her if she wanted to come upstairs and sleep on the couch. She wanted to. So, we made her bed and settled in for the night. All was well in the world. Everyone was sleeping, and B headed off to work. Then there came a whirlwind in my bedroom. It was Boo. 

 “Catfish just puked up some sort of vegetables in his bed!” Alrighty, then that’s nasty. Me, I don’t vomit. I’m a great kind of “after the puke” kind of momma. Sadly, the grody stuff, I’d just as soon forego. I walk into his room. There it is, chunky wads of green beans/corn and some other foreign substance. I’m trying not to complete blow chunks while cleaning this nastiness up. 

Vomit and a One-Eyed Rooster

Throwing Chunks

I gathered what I could and took it out front. Seriously, I’m an equal opportunity gal. Since Peach’s chunks were out the back, I thought it would be an excellent choice to throw Catfish’s chunks of vomit out the front. At that point, I shook out what I could behind the boxwood. I walked through the house and realized that my feet were sticking to the floor. 

My sweet husband (I am thankful) cleaned out Peach’s bed. He carried the blanket out. In doing so, he was not being uber careful. There were little vomit droplets all down the hall. Oh, it didn’t stop there. They were through the dining room, as well. Also, they were back through the kitchen and onto the laundry room floor. Gross isn’t even the word to describe this moment. I mop, mop again, and then mop for the third time. I thought I had it all cleaned up…that’s what I get for thinking.  

4 Down

Since I couldn’t properly get the chunks out of his bed, the mattress, or the floor, I had to resort to the vacuum cleaner. Doctored up his bed, sprinkled baking soda on the mattress and the carpet, and turned around to see Bug, green…not so much with envy, either. She was blowing chunks, as well. 

I gave her and D some Phenergan. Then they laid back down. Boo was good, so I let him play the Wii while I laid back down. He took the dogs out and said the “cold air made his belly hurt.” UGH. I had the four sickly kids upstairs resting and the one well one. We cleaned the house and took care of business.

Nugget the One-Eyed Rooster

She was mopping again, and I went out to check the chickens. The four hens and Big Red rooster were waiting for their breakfast and some freshwater. I obliged with joy. I do enjoy my chickens. The boxes my kids and neighbors made were ready for some wood chips. I brought them into the bedroom/bathroom section of our coop. 

There he was, Nugget, aka Einstein. He was perched way up the top of some shelves. I looked at him and realized that something was different. He was missing an eyeball. He has always been the small one of the bunch. The hens didn’t care for him very much, so I’m guessing that they pecked pecked pecked on him.  

Vomit and a One-Eyed Rooster