Things Are Getting Better

If you've read the last 2 or 3 posts, you know that the suppository is dying a slow and painful death. Amazingly, this has caused great sadness in 3 out of 4 Fitzgeralds. SuperHubby is just heartless.

Last night, as I was trying to fall asleep and wondering what I was going to do without a Giant Golden Suppository in my life, I was reminded of a discovery I made while on vacation last week. Vera Bradley's new fall line is out. OH HAPPY DAY.

Vera puts out new patterns and purse styles twice a year, and she is kind enough to have her fall line come out in July, a month before my birthday. It makes shopping for my birthday very simple, frankly (hint, hint).

When I walked into Carolina Girls in Fresh Fields (on Kiawah), I was instantly drawn to a FABULOUS pattern - brown with pink florals. Oddly enough, it is called Mod Floral Pink. I was excited to learn this is actually a new pattern, not some stupid "limited edition" offering that will only leave me wanting more. LIFE IS GOOD.

Now don't go online to look at the pattern, because it looks ridiculous on the website. (I know everyone wants to see it). I have never seen a picture be so unrepresentative of an item before in my life. Just trust me - it's FANTASTIC.

So, aside from a car and a laptop, which I doubt anyone will get me, I now know what I want for my birthday. Only 28 shopping days left, kids.

I Know Just What I Need

After spending most of yesterday whining and sulking about the situation with the suppository, it suddenly came to me last night...I don't necessarily need a new car, I just need a Sugar Daddy.

I don't even need a super-rich Sugar Daddy (I don't want to be greedy, after all). I just need a guy who is willing to help me out a little to get us out of the medical debt (and stupid tax) we've acquired.

There's only one little glitch, as far as I can see: I don't actually DO anything. SuperHubby cooks - so that's out. I'm a moderate housekeeper at best. I can't even really be counted on to attend various social functions, since I go to bed at 9:30 every night and only own 1 dress. My hair would look great, but that's about all I can promise.

However, I AM working on a plan...and I wanted everyone to know that I wasn't just sitting around moping and not doing anything about my sad situation.

The Suppository Goes Down the Drain

Being Fitzgeralds, we couldn't start our vacation on a simple, laid back note. Somehow, this year, I became the anti-Lori and packed the night before our trip...and left the grocery shopping for the day we were leaving. I figured I could hit the store on the way and save myself some hassle. No such luck.

We packed the cars. We got through some minor issues (who sits next to Mommy at Waffle House, where on earth is Winnie Pooh, things like that). Finally, we're on our way...and we're early.

I take FrogBoy and we go shopping. Now anyone who knows FrogBoy knows this is no easy feat, as he starts asking for a Lego about 5 seconds after we enter the store (regardless of whether they sell them or not). He also has a VERY short attention span for grocery shopping. Why did I take him, you ask? To help out SuperHubby, that's why.

So SH goes to put air in Froggie's bike tires while I go to get groceries. Except the suppository doesn't want to go with me. The old girl started shaking and sputtering like Linda Blair in The Excorcist. And it didn't get much better.

She's been spouting white clouds of smoke for some time now, and shaking uncontrollably in the mornings, but she just flat died on me. So I had to call SH to rescue us from the store, and we had to load all our groceries and luggage into the trunk of his car. Which meant no bike for FrogBoy (which actually didn't matter in the long run). We get to our vacation spot, which is a good 45 minutes away from where I broke down, and I call AAA to tow the stupid thing. And they inform me that they can't tow it unless someone meets them there to show ID. Yeah, like if we were going to steal something, we'd steal THAT.

Needless to say, SH was THRILLED to drive all the way back into town to meet the guy from AAA and give him $57 we didn't have. What a great start to our holiday.

Then today, we go to the mechanic and he informs us that, sadly, it is exactly what we thought it was, which was a blown head gasket, which is actually just as terrible as it sounds. So we can't afford to fix it, but we wouldn't want to if we could. And we can't afford a new car, because we've put over $1000 into the stupid suppository in the past couple of months. Lovely.

Apparently we can put fix-a-flat or some such nonsense inside the car and hope it will continue to get me from home to work for a few more weeks. Can you say "crap," my friends?

I'm wrapping up the vacation now, and have spent the better part of today doing laundry and getting life back to normal. However, this afternoon has been spent completely on sulking. I miss the suppository already.

Vacation Blues

I know what you're thinking...that sounds like an oxymoron...but give me a minute.

For the past 6 or 7 years (we've lost track), my entire extended family (the cool ones, anyway) have gone to a place called Mullet Hall (near Kiawah) for a wonderful, glorious, do-nothing week. The kids can roam free, it's on about a bazillion acres of undeveloped land so there's gators and deer and all the fishing you can handle, plus fields to pick whatever fruits and veggies your heart desires. At one point there was a pig (Magnolia), but sadly, she died. She was old and was attacked by dogs. We told the kids she had a heart attack.

Our kids have literally been going to Mullet Hall their whole lives. We've been backtracking it through pictures and memories and we believe FrogBoy was 2 or 2 1/2 when when first went, which would have made my niece 18 months old (and she's the youngest - and about to turn 8).

So this year, the big corporation has decided to - GASP! - sell Mullet Hall. And develop the land. Now this is upsetting for several reasons, the most obvious being that our annual family vacay is screwed, but also the loss of wildlife is very disturbing. Plus, it's MULLET HALL. (I think you have to be part of our family to understand that statement...)

Since this is our last year to go, we decided to make the most of it. We generally go for 5 or 6 days. We extended our reservation - to 7. Then yesterday we found out that the new owner wants in, on day 3 of our already scheduled vacay. And what can we do? He DOES own the joint, and regardless of whether we've been listed on the schedule since January, he OWNS it - so he doesn't owe us anything. And that really STINKS.

We had a lot planned for our last Mullet Hall trip. At least 2 fish frys. Homemade ice cream. ATV rides everyday (me and sis-in-law, not the kids). Boiled peanuts out the wazoo. Now, we're thinking fast and frugal, pack as light as possible, we might have half a week left and nothing to do (ideas, anyone?).

My wonderful, wonderful uncle, who works for Kiawah, is begging for a day or 2 more for us. We should know today. It will be a great time regardless of what happens, but of course, we would like to go out on our own glorious terms.

We leave on Friday - I'll post pictures of the most beautiful place in Charleston when we get back (whenever that might be).

What a Weekend!

This past weekend was an amazing one for our family. It started off pretty lousy - our air conditioning went out on Friday, quite possibly the hottest day in the history of mankind. Our thermostat only would register 90 - and it stayed there. The office brought us a window unit, which blasted cold air, but only directly in front of the unit. And sadly, we all sleep upstairs. By the time I got up Saturday morning, I had lost 37 pounds from sweating so much.

The repairmen showed up at our house at 7:30 a.m. Saturday. I have never been so happy to see people I didn't know. They stayed all day, throughout the monsoon and everything, and finished up at some point before we got home from church.

Church was the awesome part of the weekend. Spanky had been having some conversations with his karate instructor, explaining that he'd like to be a minister like his dad (we'll get him past the dislike of hospitals soon, I'm sure). This led to many conversations with SuperHubby about accepting Christ (which he'd already done) and his next step...baptism. So Saturday after church, SuperHubby baptized Spanky.

My brother and sis-in-law and their kids came to the service, and my aunt and uncle came for the baptism. It was really great to share this moment with our family. It was one of the highlights of my mom-hood!

To top it off, I got an unexpected gift from my brother and sis-in-law from Rome - they brought me the coolest bracelet that has purses all around it!

Nothing tops the baptism though! Even though we had to do it in the rain, even though we forgot towels - it was FANTABULOUS!

Flip Your Flops Off

I've been hearing a lot lately about how bad flip flops are for your feet. Personally, I'm inclined to believe all the hype. I generally try to ignore what the crowd is saying and forge my own way, but I have had some experience with bad feet, so I think I know whereof I speak.

For many years, I chose to wear traditional shoes, even in the summer. It didn't matter that my feet would sweat buckets. My ego had taken a hit when I was dating SuperHubby and he told me I had Fred Flintstone toes. (For those not in the know, that means my toes are stubby little nubs, like Fred's, from stopping the car with his feet). Anyway. The sad part is his was entirely correct and honest in his assessment.

Then I started noticing something. Not a lot of people have pretty feet. I'm sure some people do, but not a lot - and I can say this with near certainty because I work at Seacoast, where no one wears anything other than flips from March to October. And there are some funky feet around our office.

So a couple of summers ago, I decided to throw caution to the wind and start wearing flips. Out in public. And you know what? No one died of shock, no one barfed, and my feet were a lot cooler throughout the day. It was a glorious thing.

Fast forward to a several months ago, when my back was hurting so bad I couldn't hardly get out of bed. Being extremely quick on the uptake, I realized this probably had something to do with my very fashionable poor choice of footwear. I'd heard flips were terrible for your back (posture issues, gets you all out of alignment, dumb stuff like that). So I went out and bought a pair of crocs. Quite possibly the ugliest shoes around. But within 2 days, I could bend over and move and my back wasn't hurting anymore. I even did a little jig at work to prove I had been healed. (seriously - I have at least 5 witnesses - none of whom will ever be the same).

Now I believe all the nastiness about flips and all the loveliness about crocs. I am thinking of getting a pair of croc flops. They are semi-cute, and I'm sure they would offer the same cushiony support my ugly brown ones provide. Personally, I'm going more for the cute factor.

Readers take heed: toss your flips and get some crocs! Your sciatic nerve will thank you!

Quote This

Friends are God's way of apologizing for our relatives.

Try This

I recently read about this website, www.thebirthdayregister.com, where you register your birthday and then, about 2 weeks before the Big Day, different vendors in your area send you coupons for free stuff. Sounded like something that had my name written all over it, so I signed up. Since my birthday is more than 2 weeks away, I don't know yet if it works, but I thought I'd share the site with my friends (and anyone who stumbles upon my blog while looking for fashion tips).

All you do is go to the site, enter your birthday and your personal information, and then you're asked to select 5 categories (out of about a billion) that you'd like to receive gifts from. The catch is you can only choose each one once (as far as I could tell). And they don't tell you what you'll be getting, so if you choose "restaurant" you might get a free napkin at Burger King.

If anyone has a birthday coming up soon, try it and let me know. Otherwise, I will keep everyone posted on how this plays out in my personal life. Yes, I live a very exciting life, indeed.

The Countdown is On

Only 61 more days until I'm as old as Scott.

(I am pointing this out because he's at camp this week, which means he'll probably miss this post entirely).

For Non-Seacoasters Only

This particular post is for my friends and family who don't attend Seacoast. For all the Seacoasters who are still reading (and I know you are, because Seacoasters don't follow directions very well), seriously, you don't have to read further.

This past weekend, Pastor Greg gave an awesome message. It was called "A Lion, a Crocodile and a Herd of Water Buffalos." While this ain't your typical Baptist message title, it's pretty normal around Seacoast. And it was really great.

There's a link on our website (www.seacoast.org) that will take you to Pastor Greg's blog, which will then show a YouTube video about - you guessed it - some water buffalo, some lions and a crocodile. Oh my. It's really an amazing video, and I think everyone should see it.

After you view the video, I urge you to listen to the message online. It's one that has incredible imagary and application that you'll never forget.

Becky - this is mainly for you right now - simply because with Larry & Ann gone, you may be the only non-Seacoaster reading my blog. However, I'm hoping a lot of people will tune in, both to the video and the message, because it really is just that cool.

Professor Buttmunch - Part Deux

If you haven't read the previous Professor Buttmunch post, you need to go back and do that now. I'll wait.

Okay - so since my buttheaded brother made me rethink my entire daytimer philosophy, I have purchased 2 more daytimers. These are both 16 month dealies, which is really cool, because I can start using them in August. They are also both specifically designed for moms, which is one thing I remain consistent about - for now.

Anyway - that means I'm going to have to devote some time to filling out the new daytimers. But that's okay. Because my buttmunch brother was at camp all last week - with Spanky in tow - and he left yesterday for Rome (for 2 weeks). So, if you refer to my post several years ago when he went on a summer RV trip, you know that I am desperately bored when he is out of town. It's not that we talk that often (several times a week), it's just that he's one of the few people I can say "Dad's being Dad again" and he doesn't (1) wonder what I mean (2) get upset or (3) care. It's just a statement.

All that said, I love the big buttmunch, so please pray for their safety traveling (as well as keeping up with a bunch a highschoolers). The great news is that my sis-in-law got offered 2 jobs, one of which she accepted right before they left on their trip, so that particular prayer request has been answered in spades.

Now, I just have to get through until July 6th without anyone to talk family trash talk with. Any takers?

Our God Is An AWESOME God

Several of my friends have come across the website for Ethan Powell, the 6-month-old little boy who is fighting cancer. His parents have established a blog to keep people updated on his progress (www.ethanpowell.com). Today was a BIG DAY for them, as they needed him to test 0% for leukemia so he could go to transplant. Well...wait for it...GOD SHOWED UP AND SHOWED OFF! I just read their most recent post from a couple of hours ago, and Ethan has 0% luekemia and they are prepping for the transplant. This little guy still needs a lot of prayers but in case anyone was wondering, here's an update on him and proof yet again that God answers our prayers.

A few more prayer requests:

1. A group from our church left this morning for a missions trip to Kenya. I am particularly fond of a couple of people on this trip, so please lift them up.
2. Another group is going to Scotland for a missions trip. Yes, I know, sounds terrible, right? Anyway, pray for them as well.
3. My brother and sis-in-law leave in a couple of days for Rome. Again, we feel for them, but please keep them in your prayers. Please also pray for their 3 kids - no anxiety for them.
4. I have a cousin who has terminal cancer. His entire family needs prayer. His father just died in March, and his mom isn't doing well at all with his situation.
5. A little boy in FrogBoy's class at church is in the hospital. I have no idea specifically what's going on, but please pray for him.
6. SuperHubby continues to get a little better and then regress. He did manage to celebrate Father's Day in style, dining at Miyabi and downing every last bit. I thought he was cured; alas, this morning he was super nasty and ended up staying home.
7. My sis-in-law is looking for a job. She's a teacher, but ran into some certification issues because of dumb SC rules - however, she has 3 interviews this week, so please pray for her to find something. If you really feel led, you can pray that she gets offered the school of her choice. :-)
8. Small tidbit: We're having some car issues - please pray for them to be inexpensive.

Other than that - the praises keep flooding in - so THANK YOU LORD!

Now THAT'S What I'm Talking About!

A few days ago, I mentioned some specific prayer requests, and we have already had some answers, so I thought I'd share the news.

1. Both boys are now done with school - hallelujah! This wasn't a prayer request, but Spanky was questionable because of his math grades. He needed a 77 for the last 9 weeks to pass for the year; he managed an 85 and passed with a 74! I am now the mom of a 4th grader and a 7th grader.
2. Coleman came home from the hospital and seems to be doing very well. They had an appointment with the cardiologist today and I haven't heard/read how that went, but you can keep getting updates on their blog.
3. Biggie for our family: Spanky is in at Moultrie! The vote was supposed to be June 13, but they approved the request the day after I dropped the paperwork off, so I must have written a pretty good letter this time around. We were prepared for a battle, but this is actually the smoothest this has ever gone (of course, it should have been the most complicated, but God was working on it long before I was, so that helped!)

GOD IS GOOD, ALL THE TIME!

Thanks for your continued prayers. Please remember us as the boys are away next week, and please keep praying for SuperHubby. He takes 2 steps forward and 1 step back (the ENT said this was normal) but the step-back days are horrible (and today is a step-back day).

Be blessed!

Never Say I Can't Laugh at Myself

Okay, so I wasn't going to post this, but my officemates said I should, so I'm going to open up and be completely transparent with all my friends out there in blogland.

The other night, I got up from sleeping and had to pee. Nothing new there, I do that all the time. When I took my seat on the pot, I realized the bowl wasn't as cold as it normally is. The thought was very brief (it was the middle of the night) and I just figured one of the boys I live with had recently been sitting in the same spot. It didn't occur to me that they don't usually sit, and I generally find this out because it's wet. But I digress.

So anyway, all this didn't make any sense until I got up. Then it dawned on me...I hadn't gotten my shorts down far enough and I had peed on my shorts. How embarrassing is that? I'm almost 37 years old and I wet my pants.

Then I did what anyone else would have done if they had peed on themselves in the middle of the night. I kicked the shorts to the corner of the bathroom floor and went back to bed.

Back Home

SuperHubby is finally back home. He is still feeling the nastiness from the surgery, but the doctor told him that was partly due to him being very aggressive in repairing the holes in the inner ear. He should be feeling a little better every day. He asked me to stop for coffee on the way home, so he's getting there.

I realized when I picked him up that FrogBoy was born at that same hospital 9 years ago this Tuesday. I got a little misty.

Thanks to everyone for your prayers. Keep it up for Coleman and Ethan.

June Prayer Focus

A couple of things I'd like to ask for prayer for in June:

1. Spanky is going to camp with my brother and his family June 10-17. He normally goes with our church group, but this year he's going with them. He will be gone almost twice as long as normal. He will also be in an area where they don't get cell service and I don't have Mr. Scott checking in with me almost daily to keep me from getting my knickers in a knot.
2. While Spanky is at camp, FrogBoy is going to Camp Aunt Linda. He'll be spending a week with my aunt and uncle in Ravenel. Pray for them.
3. On June 13 the school board is meeting and on their agenda is our request to keep Spanky at Moultrie next year.
4. On June 21 my brother and his wife are chaperoning a school trip - to Rome. They are in charge of 18 or so middle school kids - and did I mention they're going to Rome? So please pray for safe travel for them - and that they bring me back something good.
5. Continued prayer for the recovery of Coleman Kinney.
6. Also check out www.ethanpowell.com. This little guy is fighting for his life and if you read his parent's blog, I'm sure you'll be touched.

I think that's about it for now. Thanks for always praying faithfully.

Professor Buttmunch

SuperHubby is still in the hospital, there's so much rain I need an ark, my hair is nasty and frankly, I'm a little menstrual. And then it happens. My brother, The Professor, changes from Nice Older Brother to Professor Buttmunch. Quick. It happened so fast, I almost missed it. Almost.

Me: "What's up?"
Him: "Not much. I'm so glad you called."
Me (suspicious): "Why?"
Him: "Because you're the best sister in the world. You're awesome; perfect really. I can't believe how blessed I am to have you for a sister. You are really wonderful."
Me: "Really?"
Him: "Oh yeah. I mean, I don't know how you do it. You have great hair, you're super funny, smart, cute, I could go on and on..."
Me: "Aw, shucks..."
Him: "You're the only one I can really talk to. See, I'm having this issue with my daytimer..."

Okay, the conversation may not have gone completely like that, but it was close, and he did move it toward the daytimer problem. At which point I started telling him the intricate details about my 2 favorite daytimer systems: the Go Mom! (www.gomom.com) and the WhoMi (www.mywhomi.com). Both are specifically designed for moms, which I explained probably wouldn't work for his needs, but they are awesome daytimers.

So I spent several minutes discussing the things I like in a daytimer (vertical days rather than boxes that cause my eyes to flit all around the page), weekly layout, room to write. I started to explain that I'm using the WhoMi right now, in a wallet size, because it has different areas for each member of my family and it's color-coded. However, I have to shrink my fat bubbly handwriting to make it fit and there's no space for notes or lists or to-do items. So maybe I should go back to the Go Mom! daytimer. I have 2 in my desk drawer (please, no comments on that...it's just sad).

Here's my problem: I was completely satisfied with my daytimer status until The Professor brought it up. Now I am rethinking the whole thing. What a conundrum.

As of 8:00 last night, my brother will be officially known as Professor Buttmunch. At least for today.

More of the Same

SuperHubby remains at St. Francis. This is getting frustrating. He looks and feels great, but his fluid intake is poor, and he can't meet the walking-around-the-pod-in-a-fanny-freezer goals they set for him. He has started eating (somewhat - although that might go better if they wouldn't bring him grits) but he's still very dizzy and has the blurred vision. What's up with that? We don't know.

The doctor will talk to him whenever he makes rounds. Since it's Saturday, we have no idea when that will be. Nothing can happen until they talk though.

And Mother Nature isn't cooperating. We're getting massive amounts of rain because of some stupid tropical system from Florida (which just verifies my belief that Florida serves no purpose whatsoever) - which means I'm having to drag the boys out several times a day - in nasty weather - and traipse to West Ashley (a 45-minute trip on a good day) just so we can see Daddy. I am beginning to like MUSC more and more. At least there I can park in the parking garage and have my head covered - plus, they know me there.

So no update for now. SH is hanging out at St F - but he's feeling somewhat better, because today is the first day he's had the TV on.

Meanwhile, baby Coleman is doing very well (check out the updates on her blog).

Enough about You, Let's Talk about Me

I never get to talk about myself on my blog (ha!), so I thought I'd take this opportunity to share with others a few nuggets - pearls, really - about myself that you may not know. Sure, everyone knows of my purse obsession, my fascination with daytimers and rubbermaid and all things organizing... but...

My birthday is August 25. Every year. Keep this in mind; it will be important later (in about 2 months, actually).

I am a Nervous Nelly when it comes to my children.

Once, in high school, I worked for a gourmet ice cream shop. They had a nifty machine that combined ice cream and candy bars - just like the Dairy Queen Blizzard, but it wasn't called that. It was a rip-off of the original. Directly across the mall from us was the only place we could get something to mix with the ice cream...Chick-Fil-A. They had just come out with a new-fangled item called Chicken Nuggets. Yes, we mixed them, and yes, they were pretty tasty.

I am double-jointed in my thumbs. I can bend them backwards behind the knuckles of my hand. I have very recently discovered that this makes Shawn weak in the knees. I will be displaying this talent more frequently at work now.

I bless people daily with my flowing mane of gorgeous hair.

I am extremely humble.

If I had been a boy, my parents were going to name me William Andrew. My initials would have been WAS.

I have really cool handwriting. SH says it's "bubbly" but people comment on it all the time. Mostly high school girls working the checkout at the grocery store, but at least they comment.

My dream car is still a Jeep Cherokee or a Range Rover, but I am tending to notice station wagons more and more. Heaven help me.

Now, hopefully, everyone can sleep a little sounder tonight, getting a slight glimpse into the lushishness that is ME.

It's Always Something

I thought about calling this blog "If it's not one thing, it's your mother" because...funny story...I had to call the hospital switchboard last night because I couldn't get SH on the phone. Long story short, the operator asked who the patient was, I told her his name, she asked "Is this Lori?" - and it turned out my mother volunteers at St. Francis and was answering the phones. Odd.

Anyway - SuperHubby remains in the hospital. Bummer. He is still having severe dizziness and nausea - and now he has blurred vision to accompany all the other junk. He hasn't eaten much since the surgery either. The doctor came in this morning and told him he could leave whenever he wanted, but the nurses, who as we all know are really the ones in control, told SH he would NOT be leaving until he could get rid of some of the yuck stuff - mainly the dizziness. They had him attempt to sit in a chair - which lasted all of about 10 minutes - so we're in a holding pattern now.

When I talked to SH from the carpool line earlier, he told me they asked him what he wants for dinner. Sounds to me like they don't anticipate him going anywhere this evening. I personally think the nurses just have the hots for my Super Cute SuperHubby and are keeping him around for his outstanding good looks and charm.

So, as usual, a "routine" procedure is anything but routine in our house. He was supposed to stay 23 hours...he's been there 3 days - so far. I'm tired, I'm hot and my hair looks like crap. Just wanted everyone to be updated.

This Is Fun...

Since I made fun of myself in an earlier post (okay, EVERY earlier post), I thought it would be fun to pick on my family with the "needs" game. So without further ado...

Adam (a.k.a. SuperHubby) needs...

1. To shower (how rude!)
2. Books for class
3. Serious help before he snaps
4. A sidekick (um, hello, that's me)
5. Someone to move into his apartment and become his new roommate (oops - I THOUGHT the sidekick was me...)
6. Very firm rules, expectations, limits and consequences (rule # 1 - don't be getting a new roommate)
7. Help with his dinner (doubtful, he's a chef)
8. To eat his carrots (actually, true, he hates carrots)
9. An Eve (me again)
10. Extensive counseling for his anger, frustration and depression (I think this made my list too. I sense a pattern...)

Sean (a.k.a. Spanky) needs...

1. A bigger cannon (scary)
2. To shave (scarier)
3. A bigger wind machine to blow his hair about (like mother, like son)
4. Five cakes
5. Some quiet time
6. To quit feeling sorry for himself
7. That there is no crying in baseball
8. His beauty sleep
9. Privacy
10. To thank his dudes

Michael (a.k.a. FrogBoy) needs...

1. Some juice
2. A girlfriend (NEVER!)
3. More money for retirement
4. His brother (awwww)
5. A haircut (indeed)

It was funny, I could only find 5 for the FrogMan. Everything else had to do with Michael Jackson and wasn't something I would repeat.

Meanwhile, today is finally over and I can't say I'm not glad. It's been a little stressful at times (I broke down in tears this afternoon while driving because "Cats in the Cradle" came on the radio...pathetic. Of course, a couple of hours later, I took the boys to see Shrek the Third, same song played in the movie, and I laughed so hard I almost had to change my shorts. So...I'm going to bed.

Patient Update

I have about 10 minutes before I have to pick FrogBoy up from school...so I thought I'd take a minute to pass along the SuperHubby update.

The surgery went very well. It was rough at first, because of course they had difficulty getting an IV going. They ended up getting a very late start, so much so that SH sent a nurse out to make sure I wasn't in panic mode in the waiting area. Sadly, I just wanted breakfast.

The ENT said he couldn't have asked for the surgery to go any better and he believes he has repaired all the leaks in the inner ear. He was very fortunate to be able to go through the ear canal rather than having to slice the ear, fold it back and go in that way. Okay, I'll wait for everyone to recover from that last little tidbit.

Surgery was right at 2 hours, as planned. Saw SH after, he was complaining of nausea and pain, which are both normal after surgery of any sort for him. He wasn't acting like he normally does when he's complaining of nausea and pain though, so I think he may have still be under the influence. He wasn't making much sense. He did manage to squeeze out "What did he say" and "What are my vitals" about a gazillion times - so he's normal.

The biggest concern for SH now is that he may have to stay in the hospital an extra day, and that is stressing him in a big way. I have tried to calm him down but so far it hasn't worked. Of course, I left him sleeping so he may not remember it at this point.

Spanky did amazingly well with the whole surgery thing. He even went to the gift shop - with no money - and came back with a gift for me and change! He never ceases to amaze me!

Off to get FrogBoy from school. Thanks for all the prayers. Scott's daughter Coleman did well too - check out his blog for details on her recovery!

Stuff I Need (Apparently)

My sis-in-law had a fun post about googling yourself and coming up with a list of things you "need." The exercise sounded a little familiar, but I thought it might be fun to try again. I was quickly reminded why it sounded familiar - I participated in November 2005 when Geoff offered the same suggestion. What was really funny was that only 2 entries have found their way to Google since that time. So, without further ado, my list of "Lori needs" - dating back to November 2005 but updated to present day

1. Lori needs to vent.
2. Lori needs sunglasses for all those candles. (ok, that was just cruel)
3. Lori needs our help and support now more than ever.
4. Lori needs a change.
5. Lori needs to cut her mom some slack. (no comment from the peanut gallery)
6. Lori needs to let herself off the hook. If her house is fairly clean and organized, great. It doesn't need to be perfect. (Amen, sister!)
7. Lori needs help moving.
8. Lori needs ideas and volunteers. (she will, of course, ignore both)
9. Lori needs to be aware of her own anger and how it is affecting her. (for the last *^#* time, I'm not angry!)
10. Lori needs 1 more year to finish med school. (see, all those trips to MUSC are actually paying off!)
11. Lori needs to do a lot more shopping. (but seriously, don't we all?!)

This is a slightly stressful week. SH has surgery, I have to fight the good fight with Spanky and school, FrogBoy's birthday is in 1 week and I have to figure out how to make everything normal and great for everyone. My friends are going through surgery with their daughter. I cried at work last week. So this was a nice little break from reality.

Pray for Coleman

FYI - to everyone praying for Coleman's heart surgery - it has been moved to Wednesday instead of Thursday.

Power of Prayer

So I recently posted about friends of mine whose daughter is having heart surgery next week. Not really knowing much about computers or cell phones or anything more than turning on a light switch, I managed to include a link to a blog they started to keep everyone updated on her recovery. I logged on this morning and was so excited...they had 18 people comment that they were praying, and 3 came from my post! (I know this because 2 were related to me, and 1 was a blog I read from my sis-in-law's blog). Whew! It was so cool to see how we're all so connected.

Anyway - I realized that I could use this to my benefit. The Fitzgeralds are in need of a wee bit of prayer ourselves these days. SuperHubby is having surgery next week, and we of course would cherish prayers for an easy procedure, quick recovery, and no meltdowns from children or Mommy. We also have a request for Spanky and his school situation.

Here's the back story for anyone who doesn't know it: The first 6 years of Spanky's school career, he attended school in Mt. Pleasant because the school board had pity on us and agreed to let him cross zones due to hardship in our family (SH's medical condition being the best selling point there). It was a struggle each year to get the boys in the Mt P schools, but the school board finally decided that once you were approved, you could stay in your school until you completed the final grade that school had to offer. That would mean appealing to the school board 3 times in your child's life, tops.

This past year, Spanky started middle school. I tried to get him there with the letter writing campaign. Nothing. Then I learned that the school we were districted for in North Charleston was a No Child Left Behind School, which meant that the school was so bad, he didn't have to attend there if I didn't want him to. I had my choice of 3 schools (none were the school we wanted, but we decided to settle on the best of the Mt P schools). Long story - but we got into the school we originally wanted - even though it wasn't even on the list! Yeah God!

So Spanky has been happily attending the school of our choice this past year. But we moved to Mt P ... and we're not zoned for that school. So now I have to appeal to the school board again. And pray that they have pity on our situation. Or at least are incredibly impressed by my letter writing abilities. I have emailed the principal at the school we want to stay at, and she has agreed to sign off on letting him stay there; but technically, she has no power to grant that request, and it has to go before the school board. And they aren't the most sensitive.

So, I figured since at least 3 people read my blog and are praying for friends of mine, I can post this and ask that those same 3 people pray for the next 2 years of Spanky's school career.

Thanks, and I promise to blog about something fun soon.

What a Croc

Am I the only one who pays attention to the news? Someone else must have heard of this story.

Seems there was this 3rd grade class field trip in China, and they took the kids to the zoo. One of the little boys, 8 years old (same as FrogBoy, to keep it in perspective), thought taunting a crocodile would be a good idea. He was encouraged by his many friends. The taunting consisted of climbing into the enclosed croc area and throwing things at the animals. (Did he stop to even think about why it was fenced? I doubt it.) I believe the boy's name was Sum Dum Kid.

Long story short, a couple of his buddies go running to the teacher and a park guide because Sum Dum Kid was missing. Guess where he was last seen? Oh, yeah, he went missing from the croc display. And the crocs seemed incredibly happy. They lure them out of the water with a pork chop and the first one that falls for the trick gets sliced open. And lo and behold, they find Sum Dum Kid. Yuck.

Moral of the story? If you're going to throw things at crocodiles, do it from behind the fence. That's why it's there.

Special Request

I have a couple of really great friends, Scott and Meghan, who are about to go through what I would imagine to be the most difficult time in a parent's life: major surgery for their child. FrogBoy had semi-major surgery when he was 10 months old and I was a basket case...but their daughter is going to have heart surgery the day after she turns 6 months old.

I've passed along a lot of prayer requests for Coleman and her parents since she was born...and I thought that this would be a great way to get the word out to the 4 or 5 people who might be reading my blog. Please visit the family's blog at http://tacjcm.blogspot.com for a description of the surgery and specific prayer requests. They will also be posting updates on Coleman's surgery - which I think is super cool.

Her surgery is scheduled for May 31.
And if anyone thinks about it, SH is having ear surgery May 30 - so please add him to your list as well.

Blog U

In the past few weeks, my family has gotten a high-speed internet connection, we've killed our landline and all gone to cell phones, and I've finally managed to tame my issues with Blogger. I'm not 100% certain of anything I just said, but my smart friends have told me it's all good.

Unfortunately, I'm not at all computer savvy. I'd like to update my blog a bit - give it a fresh new look - but I don't have a clue how to do it. My most recent accomplishment has been to include pictures. Wow.

So...I know there are people out there who can tell me...without all the extra verbiage that instructions tend to have...how to...

1. link to someone else's blog in the text of my post (Shawn has given me the tutorial on this many times, and I'm sure he'll grit his teeth when he reads this, but I can't for the life of me remember)
2. list other blogs that I read on the side of my blog. Everyone does this. Except me. And I read several blogs - most of which are pretty entertaining.
3. Include a picture in my profile. I'm sure everyone would love that, but I can't figure it out.

Blogger recently sent me an email telling me I could update the look of my blog to make it new and fresh. I can't handle the old template, much less a new one. Are they trying to stress me out?

I usually don't post expecting anyone to reply, but this time I'm really hoping someone will. I just pray that it's someone smart.

This was taken last May when my grandmother was visiting from Texas. It takes an event to get a picture of the 4 of us together. Anyway, I love this picture, particularly the look on Spanky's face.

Out on a Limb

Recently the Fitzgerald household has decided to join the rest of the world in upgrading our gizmos and thingamajigs. We have ditched our landline and gone high speed internet, baby!

If this didn't sound so pathetic, it would be really cool. Of course, everyone else in this country (and some in 3rd world countries) did this many moons ago, which just shows how resistant to change I am.

So now I can actually access my work email from home without doing a load of laundry while waiting for it to come up (full load - wash and dry). It's actually so fast, I emailed my boss earlier today, checked 1 teeny tiny email, and he emailed me back. Technology.

Since we were losing the landline, I decided we needed to upgrade to good cell phones. What does that mean? Glad you asked. It means that I am now sporting a super sexy pink RAZR, SuperHubby has a black RAZR, and Spanky & FrogBoy inherited my old phone (which was in pretty good shape, thank you very much) as their "house phone." It also means that while we are all incredibly impressed with ourselves, we spend quite a bit of time calling people back after we inadvertantly hang up on them, because we haven't the slightest idea how to work these new phones. But we're cool.

It's been a couple of weeks with the new phones, and SH got the internet working today. I give it until this weekend, and if all's still going well, I'll cancel the landline. Old habits die hard.

Show Me Some Love

Found out yesterday that SuperHubby has to have a little ear surgery. We actually have known this for about a month, but we've been living in denial - yesterday it was confirmed that they will indeed be slicing and dicing SH's inner ear in about a month.

This will be SuperHubby's 23rd surgery. He only had 2 before we were married - so his track record with me isn't that great. I am currently trying to keep this information from him; if he makes the connection, he might make me go away. We've been married 15 years this May, and everyone knows how much I hate change.

So here's the thing: When does this get to be about me? I mean, honestly. He doesn't even have to do anything but show up. I have to drive him to the hospital, worry while he's in surgery, eat nasty hospital food, and get him home when he's done. Then I have to take care of him - fluffing his pillows, bringing him sippy cups of juice, cooking him gourmet meals. And I have to take care of the boys. And I have to have fabulous hair while accomplishing all these tasks. (okay, that's not difficult, I just didn't want anyone to forget that I have ab-fab hair).

When do I get some attention? I'm not asking for a lot, just a little love. Just a "Hi Lori, how are you? Wow, your hair looks great." PAUSE. Then ask about SH. I mean really, it's not brain surgery.

I've had 2 children and 1 weird thing removed from my leg. (The children were removed from a different part of my anatomy, in case anyone gets confused). That's all the surgery I've ever had. The leg thing was outpatient, and they only kept me a few days for each baby. My track record with being a patient isn't that fantastic. Maybe I lack the sympathy gene.

Maybe SH should trade me in after all.

I thought it was only fair to include a picture of the other 2 men in my life, Spanky and SuperHubby. This is from this past Christmas, before SH got his new glasses. Not a fantastic picture, but I couldn't seem to find any of Spanky where he wasn't in some state of undress, and I wanted the entire family represented.

Fun and Games

I love games. No one in my house will play with me anymore, so I'm very sad. SuperHubby isn't a game person, and Spanky is 12 - which explains A LOT, frankly. So I've decided to challenge my blog friends to a little game of Lori Trivia.

Did you know...

• When I was a child, I wanted to be a zoologist.
• I didn't learn to drive until I was 18.
• My brother is 100% responsible for breaking my wrist, chipping my tooth, and 1 unfortunate incident involving my eye and a staple remover.
• He was not, however, even in town when I was shot.
• I was on my middle school track team.
• In high school, I placed 2nd at a Latin Forum by dressing as Medusa, complete with fishing lures in my hair to resemble snakes.
• In college, I was almost arrested sneaking back into my dorm after a cotillion.
• At my bachelorette party, I sang "Georgia on My Mind" to a room full of drunk people.
• When I first got married, I wanted 4 kids.
• I can say all 50 states in alphabetical order in under 30 seconds.

All of this amazing trivia is true - except for 1 little item. Can you pick it out? Whoever figures it out gets a prize. (I don't know what, I haven't gotten that far. I really just want to see if anyone will try and guess.)

You can't play if you have ever had the same last name as me. I know it's unfair, but it's my game, and I get to make up the rules.

Whazzup?!

Glad you asked. I've been trying to post but apparently the phone company people have it out for me. I finally got my blogger issues fixed and then, with the massive high winds we had this weekend, BellSouth somehow managed to screw up my phone service. I have spent the last 3 days trying to get help from them, only to realize that it is finally time for me to come into this century and get a high-speed internet connection. And all the people rejoiced.

This past weekend, FrogBoy and I took a road trip to Greenville to see my best friend. The previous post is of the 2 of us at the zoo. I rented a car, because the Suppository doesn't make road trips, especially since we moved within 3 minutes of work/church and school for both boys. If the old girl makes it to my aunt's house (50+ minutes away), that's all I ask.

So I rented a car. Got the "weekend special, intermediate size." Got to the stupid store, and of course they don't have what I had reserved. But they were kind enough to offer to upgrade me - which I totally wasn't going for, being immediately suspicious that they just wanted to tack on extra charges. All said, I ended up going for the upgrade to a Grand Caravan (with stow-n-go seating) for 3 days and it was $85. I just wish I'd had something to stow.

We had a great weekend, although I had to sleep on a futon and my back is still aching. I'm not allowed to complain about that at work, because Shawn says I just need a good chiropractor. Of course, I'd have to be dead to allow someone to touch me, so that's out, but it's nice of him to remind me every day.

My friend and I took our kids to the zoo. Greenville Zoo is very small, and you can see everything in about an hour if you stop and gaze awhile. FrogBoy handles the zoo by running from one exhibit to the next - and that's for the stuff he likes. When it's snakes we skip it altogether. So it didn't take long. My friend and I weren't overly ambitious anyway - we took a 5 month old, a 2 year old with Downs and an 8 year old with autism. And no one was sedated.

Spanky didn't get to make the trip. As I previously posted, he was on restriction from an earlier, unremembered offense. I still can't remember exactly what he did. SuperHubby felt the best punishment was to take him Friday after school (about 1 hour after I left town) to Blockbuster and rent 4 guy movies for the weekend. Now that, my friends, is discipline.

Last night I watched Rocky Balboa. OUCH. This was a good movie, like Rocky was a good movie. Not a good fight movie, but a good way to end the run of Rocky movies. The Professor and I have been discussing this and we seem to agree that it was a far better way to stop doing Rocky than #5.

Meanwhile, I cried during most of Rocky Balboa. The first half I cried because - SPOILER ALERT - Adrian is dead. Now, Adrian always irritated me, frankly. But something about how hard Rocky was taking it really hit me. The guy was a basket case. Then I was ticked at his son, who was a real jerk the first half of the movie. All I could think was "Hey, your dad gave you a cool robot maid in Rocky 4 and this is how you treat him?!" But alas, in true Rocky fashion, things turned around for a happy ending with Dad and Rocky Jr. And I found out that apparently Rocky's real name is Robert. At least that's what they called the boy in the movie, and in Rocky 2, right before she told Rocky to "WIN" against Apollo, Adrian suggested naming the kid after "the father."

The last part of the movie, during the actual fight, I cried the cry that involves the painful, hurts down to your toes tears. I have no explanation for that except that I am a sucker for a Rocky movie.

So - status on my life: 1 trip to Greenville, 1 Rocky Balboa movie. That, my friends, is a pretty good weekend.

The most adorable person I know

And the kid isn't bad, either

Just a Quick Update

I have no excuse - I've just been lazy - but I'm actually at home alone with access to the computer! This seems to be a rare occurrence these days, what with Spanky's teachers assigning a gazillion projects that all require internet use. It bothers me - because what about the 2 kids in class that don't have a computer at home? How do the teachers think they feel when they have to handwrite their reports - and use BOOKS instead of the INTERNET for research? Sometimes teachers just aren't that smart.

Anyway, FrogBoy and I are going to Greenville this weekend to see my best friend and her family. SuperHubby is staying home with the Spankster, who is on restriction from an earlier offense, which I can't really remember anymore. Suffice it to say, it was enough to keep him from going on the trip with SuperMommy.

Hopefully my trip will yield some interesting blog posts, although I have a few in my brain that just can't seem to make it out.

Oh, and there's only 257 days until Christmas.

Have a nice day.

St. Patrick's Day Resolutions

I planned on making my New Year's Resolutions early this year, but then I thought - "Dare to be different." St. Paddy's Day and New Year's are so similar anyway, what with the beer and cabbage and all, and I wanted to make sure I got it right.

Last year I came out of the gate a little strong. I think I said something about finding a daytimer I liked and sticking with it. Ha! That lasted about as long as it took for me to get in the car and head to Staples. Right now, I have 14 2007 daytimers - 3 of which are exactly the same. It's an addiction. However, I said I would buy purses, and I did. You win some, you lose some.

This year, I resolve to:

• NOT shave my head. I actually planned this before that idiot blonde did her little trick. I have FFP - Follicle Failure Phobia - so I really doubt this will be a hard one to keep.
• I will NOT eat a Bison Burger. Several local restaurants are serving these now, and for the life of me I cannot figure out why.
• I will be nicer. To someone. Eventually.
• I will not sing in public. For that matter, I won't do anything else in public either.
• I will sell one thing on eBay (kids don't count).
• I will learn to make my Grandmama's chicken and rice casserole. Of course it won't be as good as hers, but it's my favorite, so I might as well learn. SH certainly isn't rushing out to do it. (He claims brain surgery, but that's really just an excuse).
• I will stop underestimating FrogBoy. This needs no explanation for anyone who has ever met him. If not, I hope you can - he's an amazing kid.
• I will spend no more than 6 months (8 tops) obsessing on the fact that I am very swiftly approaching 40. Not as swiftly as some (read: SH and The Professor), but I'm getting there.
• I will listen to a little bit of 80s every day. Duh.
• I will watch Rocky 1-4 at least 1 time each. This shouldn't be hard. When TNT isn't the Law & Order channel, they are the Rocky channel. I have already seen Rocky (the first) twice and Rocky III once. No Russian yet, but I expect him to make an appearance any day.
• I will blog more. This will require me getting a laptop so I can blog from my bed. I really have to work on that.
• I will locate my waist.

Tee of the Week

I have a thong personality in a granny-panty body.

Bumper Sticker of the Day

Never do anything you wouldn't want to explain to the paramedics.

My New Favorite Saying

I am thinking of posting my new favorite saying all around my house, eye level with Spanky...

Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.

What I Hate about February

1. Valentines Day. This is merely a made-up holiday presented to us by Hallmark so they can make a lot of money off men who don't want to tick off their girlfriends/wives/mothers. Poor saps.
2. President's Day. This holiday annoys me. Why do 2 presidents have to share one holiday? If they're important enough for me to not get mail, then they're important enough to each get their own day. The only good thing about combining them is that my children only get 1 day off from school. Whatever happened to going to school 5 days a week, anyway?
3. Groundhog Day. Now this holiday I like. It spurned an excellent movie. And yet, poor Phil only gets mentioned on the national news. He at least deserves a party.
4. Black History Month. Is there a reason we can only celebrate black history in February? Why not all year long? Plus, I get tired of the commercials.
5. It's cold. Not 10-feet-of-snow, kids-go-to-school-all-summer-because-of-snow-days, New York cold, but I have to wear long sleeves. And a jacket. At the same time.
6. It's spelled funny. I don't like that. It irritates me.
7. It doesn't live up to it's full potential. Why only 28 days? Even when it goes all out, there's only 29 days. All that does is manage to screw up the calendar for the rest of the year. And how are Leap Year babies supposed to celebrate their birthdays, anyway? Someone didn't think this through thoroughly.

What I Like about February

1. It's almost over.

SuperHubby Returns

After a really stinky week, SuperHubby has finally returned home and I can blog once more. For the 2 people who don't know, SH had a little brain surgery last Sunday (#13 for those keeping track at home) and - because nothing is ever dull in the Fitzgerald house - FrogBoy managed to come down with a virus about 24 hours later. What does all that mean? Glad you asked. What is meant was, that while SH did absolutely great with this particular surgery and was sent home on Wednesday, he didn't actually get to come "home" - he had to go to his mom's house because it was too dangerous at our house with all the germs. Will the fun never cease?

So I spent the past week driving back and forth to the Smurf's house, but only after she drove to my house to babysit FrogBoy. (Oh - Froggie also missed 2 days of school in there. Crazy.) By Saturday I was ready for a 10 hour nap. However, I got the house disinfected and SH has now come home - much to everyone's delight.

So we're all where we should be - and I hope that means I'll be able to blog some more. I'm almost afraid to log off - blogger seems to hate me these days - and I have issues every time I try to log on to my account. But I've got a lot to say (nothing new there) and I hope to post more later.

Back to Blog World

So it's been a couple of days since I last blogged. Actually, a little over a month. A lot has happened since my last idiotic rant.

Last time I posted it was 2006. We have since moved into 2007, which has pretty much been stinking it up all year. My grandmother has been in the hospital for most of December and January - including brain surgery last week (see - SH isn't the only one who knows how to get attention in our family). The suppository died - and was resurrected - twice. Rocky Balboa came out in theaters - and we managed to miss it completely...and you know it won't be as good on video. And I managed to lose a diamond out of the ring my boyfried gave me for Christmas. (yes, the BF is SH)

A couple of good things have happened too -
My blog spawned 2 new blogs. Okay, maybe spawned is a bit much - but my brother and sister-in-law both have started blogging - and they are pretty good. Of course, I can't read more than a line or 2 from the Professor without being completely confused - but he seems to have a geek-following anyway.
I had a really good day a couple of weeks ago where total strangers came up to me in the grocery store and complimented me on my hair and my purse. Two different people. Same day. It was a gold star day. But I couldn't blog about it.

Blogger was having issues. Apparently, they ran out of room, and decided to change over to beta. Now I say that like I know what it means, but I don't. All that was required of me was to make the switch. But I couldn't figure it out. And when I did, the mysterious "they" told me I was giving them the wrong password. But I wasn't. It's the password I used to sign in every time I blogged. I spent a couple of weeks just trying to figure out my mess. And that really stunk, because I had a lot of stuff to say during those weeks.

So that's where I've been and what's been going on in my little world. Plan to hear a lot from me in the next few days/weeks/months - I still have a lot to say. (and right now my family is thinking "right, so what else is new?"

You Go, Grandma!

Some time ago, I ran across an article about a 60+ year old woman who had just given birth to her first child. My first thought, of course, was EWWW. Upon reading further, I was slightly inspired by this woman's stick-to-it-iveness, since she'd been dealing with infertility for over 30 years and had finally realized her dream of having a baby. Then I went right back to EWWW.

Further reflection about this grandma's current situation caused me to wonder. How is it, when most people your age are sitting around, complaining about their aches and pains, making sure they get to the cafeteria early so they can be first in line and get the "good" desserts, that you decide you want to have a BABY. How do you decide that changing your own diaper isn't enough, and you want to change someone else's at the same time? Maybe it's easier - you can buy baby food in bulk. But it seems like an awful lot of work for a person who just a few short months ago woke up in the morning simply to see if AARP wrote today.

Most people this woman's age flatulate in public and blame it on someone else. No need with a baby - you blame the smell on them. Completely inappropriate comments made to unsuspecting waitresses are written off because you're surely out of your mind - after all, you just had a baby. At your age.

My biggest problem with the whole having-a-baby-when-you're-old-enough-to-be-its-grandparent is that this baby will probably be in middle school when you die. And on top of that, how can you honestly expect to keep track of the little rugrats if you manage to stay alive? You can't sneak up on them when they hear your bones creaking a mile away. And if you can't figure out how to use the internet or a cell phone, forget secret conversations with teachers that blow your kids minds.

Still, to this woman, I say "Right on!" You wanted a baby, and you stuck with it for more than 30 years until you had one. Forget all the children you could have adopted in that time that needed a mom. You did it your way.

Precious Children

(sung to the tune of that old gospel favorite, Precious Memories)
(to my friends at DSS - this is a JOKE)

Precious children, how they linger
Will they ever leave our home?
Lord, we love them
But we'd love to miss them
Why won't they leave us alone?

Precious children, always in my business
They're so nosey I could scream
Asking this and asking that
Even though they don't give a crap
It's no wonder I'm so mean.

Oh, these noisy children, what's with these noisy children
Why are they all ganging up on me?
Man, I'd like to shake them
But there's laws against that
Prison ain't the place I want to be.

Precious children,
They can make me say nasty words
I sure love my children
And I wouldn't trade them
Even if they are gigantic turds.

That's What Friends Are For

So a couple of weekend's ago, I took a little road trip - alone - to Greenville to see my very best friend. We've been friends since high school, when my brother felt compelled to set me up to meet someone he worked with so I wouldn't start a new high school without knowing anyone. I don't care what anyone says, that's just sweet (especially when you factor in a teenage boy).

So we've been friends forever. We are oddly alike, and just as oddly very different. Friendship is great that way. I love how God works all that out so people just gel together.

And my friend was 22 months pregnant, and really wanted me to come, so I went to see her. I don't particularly like to ride for more than 30 minutes, so driving it was quite the challenge. I changed my mind and backed out at least a dozen times. It got to the point that SuperHubby finally just said I should let him know that morning if I was leaving town or not. On top of that, I had to drive ALONE - and I don't like doing anything alone. But, she's my friend, she wanted me there, so I went. And when I got there, I was reminded why you do these things for your freinds.

I got up super-early on a Saturday morning and drove almost 4 hours to meet her a gas station. Apparently it's pretty hard to find her house and she didn't want me to drive around for hours. Nice. So I pull up and she's not there. I figured I could fill up the car and save myself the trouble of doing it the next morning. So I get out and start pumping, wind blowing and air frankly a little chillier than in Charleston. And she pulls up. I go over to her car, lean in to say hi, and the first thing she says to me, before "hey, how was your trip," before anything, is "Wow, your hair looks great."

Now honestly - that goes without saying - but how cool is it of her to mention that before anything else? It's no wonder she's my best friend.

She had her baby last week. Didn't name her after me, even though I campaigned pretty diligently - but she's a beautiful baby, and she's healthy. Compliment me on my hair or name your baby after me? They both speak my love language.

Color Me Irritated

This will come as a shock to people who know me, because I'm such a happy, friendly person, but lately several things have really gotten under my skin. It's not like I'm sitting around looking for stupid, mind you - it just seems to be so prevalent these days.

For example, the PlayStation 3 craze. Being a normal person, I don't understand all the hype about a video gaming system anyway. Being the mother of 2 sons, I realize they find something oddly satisfying and enjoyable about video games, but I can't for the life of me figure it out. Wasn't Atari cool enough? I still love those games. But the people at Sony have gone too far. They have limited releases of the PS3 systems, or whatever the current machine is, so they can create a frenzy for a gadget that will be outdated in a year anyway. Grown men sleep outdoors, in the freezing cold, to purchase a system - some for their own, sad life, but some so they can sell them on eBay for 3 times what they paid. So now the children - and the nerds - who really want them can't get them because the price is so inflated. A 24-hour Wal-Mart in Connecticut closed down because of fighting - and one guy got shot. Over a TOY.

Another thing that's on my nerves this week is Christmas. Now, as I stated last year, I absolutely love Christmas and all things related to it. I do not, however, love them in October. Which is when most of the stores around here felt compelled to start with the Christmas decorations. Frankly, I was okay with it then - because it meant the stupid Halloween decorations that had been up since August were finally replaced with something nice. BUT - and here's where I draw the line - we have completely forgotten Thanksgiving!

Last weekend, while I was finishing my Christmas shopping (hate me if you will - you're just jealous), I realized that every store I was in was playing Christmas music. I guess that's okay, but a couple of songs aren't what get me in the holiday spirit. It's more than that, right? Then, just yesterday, my radio station dubbed themselves "Charleston's Christmas Station." On the one hand, nicely done - because everyone else seems to be trying so hard to be politically correct that I'm surprised they didn't go with "Charleston's Holiday Station - Maybe." But they are steadfast and continue to rock out the Christmas tunes every year - including songs that are 100% I Love Jesus. So I like that. Just not before Thanksgiving.

I guess it's because Thanksgiving is happening so early this year. It's still relatively hot here - for most normal people - and the tree lots are popping up everywhere. Of course, in 4 days people will be strapping them to the tops of their Hummers and driving the 2 blocks to their house to have the help (translation: kids) get it in the house. Whatever happened to going to a tree farm and cutting down your own tree?

I love Thanksgiving - it's a perfect holiday because (1) you get good food, (2) you spend time with the relatives, but not as much, and (3) you don't have to worry about the gift exchange. Yet. Everyone else in America seems to think Thanksgiving is just a day for bad football. Go, Lions.

One final word about things that are ticking me off this week: People, if you can't drive a big truck/van/whatever, DON'T buy it! Regardless of how cool the truck, you look like a jerk when you can't park it and are driving straight down the middle of the road.

There. I've spread my holiday cheer. Have yourself a Happy Little Thanksgiving.

Question

Is it at all acceptable to repeat a post on your own blog that you found particularly entertaining? Or is that just tacky?

Can You Hear Me Now?

I have sad news for the many suppository lovers out there. The old girl has been stripped of her identity. That's right, last week SuperHubby took her out and got her a new muffler and some belts. She's as quiet as a Catholic during their first Seacoast worship experience.

Turns out the suppoistory was embarrassing the boys as much as she was embarrassing me. Let's face it, when the elementary school principal turns to check out the monstrous noise coming in the parking lot every day, and it turns out that it's YOU every day, well...the cheeks grow a little rosy. Move down the road to pick up the middle schooler, and everyone looks at you like you've lost your mind because you're driving that thing, and the cheeks are deep red before we make it home.

So the great news is, I actually have a fairly nice van now that it doesn't make so much noise. At least she feels pretty (she's still a suppository, but she thinks she's gorgeous, and that's what really matters, right?). You can tell by the way she drives - she's proud. And we love her.

For those who long for suppository stories, never fear. The gas cap still doesn't come off without at least 2 people giving an assist. The cassette player doesn't work, and frankly, it has a cassette player. The back door doesn't lock unless you beg it, and the windows go down 100% of the time but only up 75% of the time. Choose your times wisely.

There will still be days when I want to shoot the suppository. Today, I like her. A little.

Best Week Ever

VH1 has a fantastic show called "Best Week Ever." If you need to know which contestant spit on another equally charming young lady on Flavor of Love, just watch Best Week Ever. If you want to see David Hasselhoff's new "Jump in My Car" video, watch Best Week Ever. And if you need to know the lyrics to the latest Weird Al Yankovic tune, Best Week Ever baby.

This show is great because they spend a full 30 minutes being completely rude and overwhelmingly sarcastic about the stupid things celebrities - and non-celebrities - have done in the past week. Now that's my kind of current events show.

The Fitzgerald clan is not having the Best Week Ever. We are moving in 2 days. This means we are packing up our lives in boxes and realizing what we own is actually ALL yardsale material. It's been a rather depressing week.

We've learned a few things along the way. For one, SuperHubby has a completely different theory on packing than I do. My theory is wait until the last minute, pack a few boxes, move them to the new house, unpack, repeat. SH isn't quite with me on this one. He started packing 2 weeks ago. And he started with our food. Interesting way to make me diet.

I noticed last night that I not only have a purse fetish and a daytimer fetish, but I am strangely addicted to rubbermaid storage boxes. Ohmigoodness. Our garage looks like aisle 17 of Wal-Mart.

I honestly believe that our possessions are multiplying while we're at work. And they're not even multiplying into good stuff. If I hear "And WHY did you save this again?" one more time, SuperHubby's mouth may get packing taped shut. Of course, it's hard to argue when he's holding up a infant rocking chair with only 1 arm - last used when FrogBoy was 4 and got his head stuck and SH had to saw the arm off so we could get to church. Ah, memories.

So we're having an interesting week. We're moving, life will (hopefully) be easier, and we're making our way to debt-free living (yahoo!). I can't wait until it's over.

How to Know If You Have an Ugly Baby

Helpful Hint: If you're offended by the title of this blog, stop reading now. Your baby is ugly - and you already know it.

Now I know what the 4 people still reading are thinking: All babies are cute. This is simply not true. This is a lie perpetuated by the parents of ugly babies.

I started thinking about this a while back, when I saw Shawn's baby at church. She is by far the prettiest baby I have seen (other than my own baby pictures, but that really goes without saying). But looking at her, I realized something: a lot of parents are under the mistaken sense that their baby is adorable. And there are some funky looking little kiddos out there.

Let me help just a bit. You know your baby is ugly when people often make the following comments:

• "He looks just like you!" (this is simply a way of not commenting on the child's looks)
• "He's so cute!" (sounds innocent enough, but your baby is a girl)
• "Wow, she sure has a lot of hair!"
• "Would you look at him?!"
• "How about that!"
• "Is she always this good?" (variation: "Is she a good sleeper?" - they don't care, they just don't want to be put on the spot about the kid's looks)
• "Aw, what a sweetheart." (another tricky one - but trust me)

Then there are the people who won't talk directly to the parents, but carry on an entire conversation with a 10-day old baby. This is a huge indication that they can't even make eye contact with you because you have created something so grotesque they don't quite know what to say.

One of my babies was ugly. The pediatrician's office referred to him as "The Ethiopian Baby." In front of me. It happens. Sometimes the beautiful people have ugly babies. The encouraging news is that they generally outgrow the funk and turn out pretty cute.

Church 101

I have been waffling back and forth about this particular blog, not wanting to write something that might offend someone. Then I realized I don't actually care if people are offended, since the only way one might be offended by what I have to say is if they are the ones causing the problems to begin with. So, here I offer a few tips for handling church the proper way, for those who apparently don't know:

1. If you can't keep up with everyone else when we're asked to read aloud, stop. If you're more than 2 words off, and the people around you are prone to seizures, you're asking for trouble.
2. Do not feel compelled to answer rhetorical questions. That's why they're rhetorical.
3. If you have a child in the nursery, memorize your child's ID number before service. Then you don't have to mumble "What's our number again?!" every time a number flashes on the screen.
4. Make your dinner plans before service. Or after. Anytime other than during the message is good, actually.
5. Don't try to guess what the speaker is going to say next. At least not audibly. It's only a fun little game for you; to everyone around you, it's just annoying.
6. Don't comment "Oh, I love this song!" during worship. It's not a concert.
7. Finally, but most importantly, when the worship leader instructs everyone to greet the people sitting around them, they do not in any way mean me. This is a common misconception. In my world, this phrase is loosely translated as, "Kiss SuperHubby, don't make eye contact with anyone and sit down as fast as you possibly can, without speaking to or shaking hands with anyone you don't know."

I hope this will be helpful to some of the newbies who have recently taken to sitting near me at church. It's not that I don't like you. I don't like anyone.

Special Deliveries

A couple of my closest friends are expecting babies, and both are having little girls. They both already have adorable little boys, and I'm thrilled God is expanding their families in this way. I'm also very happy that I have boys.

However, the birth of these 2 little ones is causing me great distress. I have to buy baby gifts. And I'm never quite sure what to do when it's a girl. I understand boys. Not so much girls. That would be why God gave me boys. He's smart like that.

When I buy baby stuff, I'm all into frogs and trucks and footballs and dinosaurs. I am not into butterflies and ballerinas and hair bows and Barbies. The thought makes my skin crawl.

My brother has a daughter (also known as my niece). She is absolutely adorable and I totally enjoying hanging out with her. She's my favorite niece (I have 4 others, but she's definitely the coolest). Even so, my head starts spinning with all the girl stuff after about 5 minutes. I'm just not getting it.

It's not easy finding gifts for baby girls that aren't full of ruffles and lace and flowers and all that nonsense. Try finding something with a frog on it - it doesn't exist (trust me - I've looked). You can't even give a non-clothing gift because you just don't know with little girls; they're always looking to throw you a curveball. With boys, if you can't find an outfit, you give the parents a football - for later.

I guess I could get these girls-to-be a couple of really nice purses. Right now that's all I can come up with.

On Target

Things have begun to go back to normal in the Fitzgerald household. Normal, right. SuperHubby has been home for over a week, his stitches have been removed and he's thinking the final shunt revision may have done the trick. I'm back to fighting for a good school for Spanky to attend in August and dealing with the FrogMan being the FrogMan. Normal.

Which means my efforts can return to important issues, like answering some very deep questions. Why do huge men always have itty bitty little dogs? Why has there never been a Hurricane Lori? Who would invent jalapeno liverwurst? More importantly, who would eat it?

I've also had the occasion to reflect on my favorite shopping venue: Target. I haven't been able to spend a lot of time there in the past month, so I've been just conjuring images of the store to hold me over. And I have some observations:

• If you buy clothes at Target, you don't have to apologize or make excuses. They have cool clothes. You always feel like you have to qualify your purchase with "it was on sale" when you buy clothes at the Other Places.
• Target is, in essence, a really nice Wal-Mart or K-Mart. But they were terribly clever. They left out the Mart. Takes them to a whole new level of tasteful.
• Target has a really good marketing campaign. It's just a little red and white circle. Very easy. Very catchy. You know when you see it that it means Target. And it's on all their Target products. Go to Wal-Mart and see if you can find their Wal-Mart products. I doubt it. That's because they try to give everything a cleverly ripped off name of the original product (Dr. Thunder, anyone?). I'd much rather just know I'm getting the store brand of trash bags and not have to think that hard.
• Target has interesting incentives for their employees. I'm still up in the air about this one. The last few times I was in Target, I heard employee radios sound off with the manager reminding the staff that a "secret shopper" would be in the store that particular day, and they could win $50 if they treat said secret shopper well. I personally don't want the employees to have to be bribed to treat me nicely while I shop there. Actually, I don't want them to talk to me at all. But it works. Target employees will stalk you while you're in the store, even if it is only so they make an extra $50 that week.
• You can buy anything at Target - but it has to be nice. Daytimers? Yes, but only the really good ones. Bedding? Absolutely - the same as you'd find at Belk. You're going to find nice stuff, just not a huge selection. Which is a good thing for someone like me.

Target doesn't pretend to be something it's not - they just do it much better than the rest of the pack. Lately I've noticed another trend: fast food establishments that have their entire employee handbook on the wall next to the phone, hidden from their customers inside the building, but completely visible to the folks in the drive thru. Hello - I never walk in. Do I really want to know that they only reason they're smiling and saying "my pleasure" is because there's a note on the wall reminding them to say it? Even if they really mean it, it just sounds fake. But that's another topic for another day.

The Waiting Game

So I've been spending quite a bit of my free time lately in hospital waiting rooms. This has led me to discover that I am a people watcher. And people's habits are nasty. And funny.

SuperHubby went back for more surgery this week. Some tidbits I've noticed along the way:

• There IS such a thing as an external wedgie. It is not attractive. It's actually worse than the more common internal wedgie, because this one's out there for everyone to see. And you can't dig it out, because that's nasty. But if you're fat (like MUSC Guy) it's really obvious, so you really SHOULD dig it out. What a conundrum.
• The "no food in waiting area" signs to not apply to the people sitting directly under them. Apparently.
• You can eavesdrop on deaf people if you know sign language. This is really actually pretty cool. If you eavesdrop on hearing people, you have to pretend like you're not doing it. Deaf people are so caught up in signing that they don't notice. And you don't have to whisper when you tell your neighbor what they're talking about.
• People will wear ANYTHING to the hospital. Now I'm all for comfort. Most days I've sported jeans, tees and flips. And fabulous hair. But one lady was there in - no kidding - pink gardening shoes with white socks, pink flannel pajama pants with candy canes all over them and a white tee shirt. I don't care if you're going in for surgery or not, at least try to dress like you're not 3.
• People come to the hospital like they're going on vacation. I saw more rolling luggage there than my last trip to the airport. It was nuts. SuperHubby comes in with the clothes on his back; I carry them out in a little hospital-issue plastic baggie. What could you possibly be packing for if you're having surgery?
• The length of "the doctor/nurse will be with you in just a minute" depends on whether you're the doctor/nurse or the patient/patient's wife.
• No matter how many different things I bring to amuse myself, I will sit with my arms crossed and a blank stare for the entire time I'm in the waiting room. This is commonly referred to as Lori's Don't-Talk-To-Me Look. Those who have seen it know it well.
• All waiting rooms should be equipped with recliners.
• The quality of the cafeteria food actually increases with the length of time you're at the hospital and have to partake of its offerings. At least it seems like it does. Anyway, they only serve 3 different meals, all made with the same ingredients. Nothing like a little variety while you're waiting.

SuperHubby had surgery on Wednesday. He's still in the hospital. That means it's Pop Tarts for the boys, all 3 meals, every day. I'm on a sweet tea IV. But I learned a few new things this week.

Sick...and Tired

WARNING: There is a very good chance there will be whining in this blog. I would apolgize for it, but I am not in the least bit sorry. The only thing worse than no apology is an insincere one.

Last week (not this past week, the one prior to that) was a really BAD week. Maybe not the worst week ever, but it definitely rated up there.

It actually started while we were on our annual family vacation, which is a blast. I'd tell you all about it, but you'd just be jealous, so I'll save that for another day. Anyway, while we there, SuperHubby started feeling a little under the weather. Nasty, actually.

So a couple of days after we get home, I actually convince him to go to the doctor. This sounds way less impressive than it really is. SH normally doesn't go to the doctor unless a limb has just fallen off. Or he's having trouble with his shunt. Right.

So he spends the day at the emergency room. Nothing. They tell him he's great, good, go on home. I realize these are doctors, but he knows his body and I know his symptoms, and we both knew there was something going on. We had some tension in Fitzgerald house that weekend.

By Sunday I had him back in the ER. He was admitted. Fast forward to the end of the week, and SH has been to the ER twice, has had his shunt tapped twice, had one spinal tap, 2 brain surgeries, and 15 staples in his head (not including the various scans, etc. done on him during his 6 day jaunt at MUSC).

So it's been a stinky week. Still, I was reminded how wonderful our friends and family are. My aunt took my children so often that she could have petitioned to legally adopt them. My brother called every day - sometimes more than once - from Spartanburg, where he was one of the leaders at his church camp. One of my co-workers made me a lasagna (her surgery meal for us - which I haven't had in a long time - and although I love it, would prefer never to eat it again!). A group of co-workers pooled their resources and gave me gas money, etc. for the week. My babysitter picked up the boys after VBS and took them home, then waited until my aunt showed up to get them - the night before he was leaving for Kenya! My aunt and uncle even cut my grass. Incredible stuff from the people who love us - and all have their own lives to get on with at the same time!!

So SuperHubby is sick ... and I'm tired. (I know, cry me a river Lori, you're tired...but SH had his head opened up several times last week. What am I complaining about?)

Friday we went back to MUSC for the lovely post-op visit. Those are never fun: that's when they take out the staples. However, with some concerns we were having, and then the doctor had the same ones, we ended up spending the majority of the day there with SH having more scans, tests, etc. We go back tomorrow -- realizing that we could be looking at more surgery.

God is faithful, but my heart aches for SuperHubby.

Someday

I love lists. To-do lists, weekly lists, long-term goal lists, what to pack for vacation lists...More work goes into my lists than the actual jobs they detail. I love bulleted lists, boxes to check off, items to scratch through ... and then re-writing the entire list, because who really wants a list that isn't neat and tidy?

I've created a new list for myself. Not a weekly or even a daily list, not a long-term goals list or a list of names for future pets or a list of body parts that can be pierced. This is my "To Do Before I Die" list. It's a really great list.

1. I'd like to learn to play one song on the piano. This could be challenging, as I am not at all musically gifted. I can sing any lyric to any song written since 1980, but nobody wants to listen. When I was a little girl, I wanted piano lessons. My parents agreed but said I would have to put the piano in my room. I declined their invitation. I still regret it.
2. I'd like to learn to drive a stick shift. Not because I think it would be fun, but because I think it's a good skill to have. Maybe.
3. I'd like to own a car that I actually pick out and buy. I'm not talking new, and I'm certainly not talking expensive. But I'm not talking Suppository.
4. I want to be involved in finding a cause and a cure for autism.
5. I'd like to have feet pretty enough for sandals. I wear flips now, but I shouldn't be allowed to...my feet are just that ugly. But I would like pretty feet. I didn't say everything on this list was possible.
6. I'd like to learn to cook one full meal (not spaghetti). This is another challenge, as I don't enjoy cooking and don't have much talent in the kitchen department. This is not a desire for myself; it's more for SuperHubby. Plus, it would be great if I needed it. If your children have ever told you, on day 3 of your husband being in the hospital, "Mommy, can we have a different flavor pop tart today?" - it may be time to learn. (yes, this really happened)
7. I want to take my children to Disney. And maybe Legoland.
8. I'd like to be half as smart as I am organized.
9. I'd like to become a good housekeeper (moving up from "good enough").
10. I want to ride a horse. Apparently I rode a horse when I was about 2 or 3, although I have no recollection of it, but we have pictures. I am wearing a hideous cowgirl outfit, which perfectly matches the ones my brother and 5 cousins are wearing. Complete with hats. Even the horse felt sorry for us.
11. I'd like to ride in an airplane without being (a) completely terrified, (b) heavily medicated, or (c) dead.
12. I want to lead a small group. I have the plan. I need the guts.
13. I'd like to not turn a thousand shades of red whenever spoken to, looked at or breathed on.
14. I want to learn American Sign Language.
15. I'd like to teach someone something important - although I'm not quite sure what.
16. I want to have really cool glasses. The kind where people stop on the street and say, "Wow, what a trendsetter. That chick is wearing some groovy glasses."
17. I want to write a book.
18. I'd like to be a foster parent.
19. I'd like to have the occasion to wear my tiara. FrogBoy gave it to me for Mother's Day. It is heart-shaped and has jewels that light up (blinking) at the touch of a button.
20. I'd like to go swimming. In a pool. I haven't done that since 1994, the year I became pregnant with Spanky. I decided I was fat, then I was fat, then I had a baby and was paranoid, then I got pregnant (and fat) again, and I stayed fat. But I love to swim.
21. I'd like to live in a house with 2 toilets, a screened porch and a laundry room that's located somewhere other than the garage.
22. I want to be the best wife to SuperHubby and mom to Spanky and FrogBoy that I can be.

I also have a dream on my list ... That all women will experience at least one fantastic hair day and own one fabulous purse. Everyone deserves that.