Don't look at my Pirates!

Apparently today, September 19th is International Talk like a Pirate Day. Seriously, who the hell thinks of these things?

In honor of this absurd day, I'd like to share a story all about Pirates.

I was cleaning up the kitchen and both girls were in the living room playing together. Out of the giggles comes the high pitch screaming...

Dookie: "Stop Sissy! Stop! Stoooopppp!"

Baby Sis: hysterically laughing

Dookie: "I don't want anyone to see my pirates. It's not nice to show people your pirates!"

Curious as to what Baby Sis was doing that she found so funny, and why Dookie was so pissed about pirates, I went into the living room to see Baby Sis lifting up Dookie's skirt and smacking her in the butt.

Arrrgh matey, yer correct. It's not appropriate to be showin' off yer booty and family jewels.

Please help!

If you can recall last September, our family was requesting prayers, love and positive thoughts to go towards Dookie's friend, Allie S.

The sweet two year old girl was experiencing unexpected kidney failure, and her situation was terrifying and in need of a major miracle. Allie has FSGS, and this strong girl will need to keep fighting  and remain in close care of specialists.  For more information on FSGS, please visit http://nephcure.org/fsgs-facts

Dookie is going to be walking with NephCure in her friend Allie's honor. To support her efforts, and research that will be searching for treatment and a cure for FSGS, please consider sponsoring Dookie as she walks with Team Allie. 
The link to sponsor is: http://raleighncwalk.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=1030218&lis=1&kntae1030218=996FE50B6D1A40058A5E518094877FE6&supId=366935417

Also, I wanted to provide and update on Allie and thank everyone for their thoughts and prayers because thanks be to God, good medicine and amazing doctors, she's had a complete turn around and is a HEALTHY three year old!!

Like a booger, just waiting to be picked.

I guess I can consider myself lucky that today was our first real emergency adventure with Dookie, we made it nearly 4 years without incident. Until today...dun, dun, duuuuun.

No, my sweet girl didn't fall down the stairs, or bump her head. Her bones are all intact.  No fever, no rash....oh no, not my kid.  Mine is extra special, she had to go because she shoved something up her nose, and got it stuck.

The child that always blows people away with her intellect and maturity, the same one that has people telling me how bright and advanced she is, stuck what she called "paper" up her right nostril, and lodging it up there. She's so smart, but sooooo dumb.

What makes a child think, "Ooooh let me stick ::foreign object:: up my nose?" Most kids don't even let their mom wipe/blow their nose, pulling out the nasal aspirator or in our house, talk or sight of the BOOGER SUCKER makes them run and hide under the bed or in the closet.

I'm still shaking my head. It blows my nose, er, mind.

Here's how it went down:

I'm standing in the kitchen cleaning up and she comes running in from the living room hysterically crying. I knew it had to be serious because she would never leave "Santa Paws" without reason. Yes it IS only September 12. We're not here to talk about that. ;-)


Momma: "Whoah, why are you crying, whats wrong?"
Dookie: "It's stuck in my nose! WAHHHWAHHHHOMGWAHHHCALLANEMERGENCYYYYY"
Momma: Calm down, WHAT is in your nose? A booger? Stop over reacting, here's a tissue."
Dookie: "WAHHHHH gasp snort hack A PAPER!!!!! "
Momma: "How did a paper get stuck in your nose?"

I look up her nose, and sure enough there's a "paper." From what I could tell looking up her snoz looked like a crumbled ball of paper, but it was hard to see since it was SO far up there. After a few minutes of trying to get her to blow her nose out, but she only sucked in more and more, I thought it might be a good idea to get out the dreaded booger sucker. I shoved that bad boy into her now bleeding nostril and thought to myself that paper should come right out. Nope, nothing. I get a flash light. I can barely see it now.

Crap, I made it worse. What the fuck am I going to do?
Now she's laying on the floor, panicked. Screaming at the top of her lungs.
Remember when I told you about Baby Sis throwing tantrums when she sees her sister doing it? Awesome. Two screaming, writhing messes, one bleeding from the nose. I'm so lucky.

Welp, now it's time to go to the Emergency. I call her Daddy to tell him where we're going, and he's thrilled. OF COURSE, Dookie hears this and is crying even harder.

Dookie: "I'M BLEEDING, I'M DYING. I DON'T WANT AN EMERGENCY. I DON'T WANT AN AMBULANCE, THEY DON'T HAVE A CAR SEAT. WAHHHHHHHH"

I throw clothes on the baby, shoes on all of us and put them both in the car and off we go.

Thank God for my good friend, Jenny, who hopped in the car and came to my rescue to help with the baby when I had to go in the exam room. Her son distracted the panicked Dookie and they watched cartoons for the two hour wait.

We finally get in and the doctor is THRILLED. He's like pumped up to see us.

Doc: "Hahaha, Hi Mom! How are you today? I love this age, they're so interested in orifices."
Momma: "Yes, usually it's just fingers but today, not so much."
Doc: "Yeah anything that fits in those orifices are a kids favorite. Can this fit in my orifice? Will that go in my orifice?"

Yeah dude, I get the picture. Seriously? Say "orifice" to me one more time and I might barf, or punch you. We waited two fucking hours with 3 kids in the waiting room, get the fucking flash light and get the paper out.

Doc: "Ok little lady, lay back here and I'm going to look with my flash light and see what you put up your orifice."   

dickface.

Dookie does some sort of karate chop/jump/kick/fly through the air. She's escaped both myself and the doctor and is trying to get out the door of the room. So, I did what any Mom would do, I got her back, gave her a hug, told her it's not going to hurt.

Then, I sat on her.

So here we are, both on the exam table, with her body pinned down under my legs and her head in my crotch. It looked like I was giving birth to her again.  She's screaming bloody murder, I'm wrestling her with all my might, using my thighs and my hands to attempt to keep her head immobile.
Here comes the doctor with his little flashlight headband, ready to pick my kids nose and shove his face in my lap.

How did I end up in this fiasco?!
Oh yes, my daughter shoved "paper" up her nose.
I'm so lucky!

The doctor had some special tweezer-like apparatus that he wanted to show to Dookie to tell her that it didn't hurt before he did it. Now he's pinching her shirt and her arm. She's flipping a shit. She's gagging, the puke reflex is coming....

Momma: "Stop, just do it, you're just making it worse."

He does it, and out come this massive shiny pink object. Not paper. Oh no, not even close.

Of course I'm posting a picture of it here!

WTF is this thing? It's a piece of folded over "leather" material that has stitching through it. I've searched and searched and can't figure out what it came from!

More importantly, what possesses Dookie to see this thing and decided to put it in her nose?



Now the doctor is on cloud nine,

Doc: "Oh hahahaha what a pretty pink thing, of course a kid would try to put it in an orifice! Let me check your other nostril and ears, make sure there's no more orifices!"

Ok, dude, you're a creepo.

Luckily, she only chose one orifice today.

So we're finally headed home, I'm exhausted, the baby is overtired and hungry, Dookie has her finger up her nose now. shaking my damn head. I pull up, get the kids inside and find we have no power. I walk over to the neighbors, they don't either. Joy. I can't make dinner! With the power out, there's no excuse not to force the kids for a late nap.  They pass out for a few minutes until the UPS guy comes barreling down the street and the dog goes ballistic. Can my day go any more wrong?

Now the power comes back on, good. I make dinner, put the baby in her seat, get Dookie settled with her ketchup and ranch dressing dinner with side of chicken and veggies. I sit down to eat, and as I put the first bite in my mouth, out the power goes. I got to eat dinner and clean up in the dark.

Ugh, I quit on today. I hope Dookie learned her lesson!

reflections on 9/11

It's not a cheerful walk down memory lane.
It's not a challenge to have the best story,
or to remember exactly where you were, what you were doing and who you were with when it happened.


It's not something to take lightly.
It's not something that should be copied and pasted to your facebook status.
It's not something you tweet in 140 characters or less.

It's something that has changed my life, but not because it happened.
not because I was fortunate to have lost no loved ones.
not because I lived in New York.
not because the smoke and smell carried on the wind for days afterward, making it more than something I saw on the news.

It's something that should have changed your life too. It still can.


It's minutes before midnight, the start to September 11th 2012.
11 years later, and my facebook newsfeed is flooded with "Never Forget" statuses.  I find it disheartening that year after year, SO many people post to "never forget," but doing nothing more than that.

What exactly are they doing by posting that? What are they saying to 'never forget'? Never forget that terrorists flew airplanes into two huge buildings in NYC? Never forget that a plane full of people took down terrorists who were attempting to hit another building? Never forget that a plane full of people crashed into the pentagon building?  The idea of never forgetting these tragic and heinous instances doesn't seem quite productive to me. I understand the intended sentiment behind the statement, to honor our heroes and remember those who've perished. What I don't understand is where "never forget" comes in.  Here, we're falling short.

I said that 9/11/01 changed my life. It wasn't a change for worse, it was a surprised change for the better. 

It's was a rude awakening that life is fragile.
Life is a gift. Life is more than we can imagine, and it can disappear in an instant. I'm never going to take mine, or the life of others for-granted.

I was 16 years old when the towers fell. Out of the rubble came the most astounding sense of community. It is something that has forever left a mark on my heart, and on the way I live and the way I raise my children. Never, in my life, before that day had I seen people so willing to help others. I'd never expect to have seen so many heros rushing in, to save strangers. Some gave their lives so others could keep theirs. These ultimate sacrifices of many brave souls ricocheted throughout our country, unifying us for, the first time in my lifetime. A fire was struck within our souls to be better to each other, to do more for others and to take less for ourselves.

The overwhelming sense of pride in being an American, and the compassion that we all found for our neighbors that day and the weeks and months that follow is something that has became engrained in my person. Something that I've never seen before, and something that I'd be ecstatic to see again.  So much love poured from us in the days that followed 9/11. Our blood banks had lines to donate, people volunteered to help, to rebuild and to better the lives of others.  American flags flew high from every home, car, building.  Our country was strong, with faith unshaken.


Here we are, 11 years later...we've lost it. We've forgotten what's really important. We've stopped helping each other. We've stopped loving each other.

To me, I can't think of a better way to honor our hero's than by trying to live my life as selflessly as they did. I haven't been met with the need to run into a burning building, but I make a conscious effort to go out of my way to help those in need. I make it a point to teach my children that it's better to give your all to others, than to demand it all from them. At the age of 3, my daughter has already given 10 inches of her hair to locks of love to make a wig for a child with cancer. She said that she want's to shave her head bald when she is older for St. Baldrick's, just as her Daddy, Poppa and Uncle's do every year to show solidarity for those that are undergoing cancer treatment. After I organized a toy drive for our Mom's group to donate gently used toys local children in need, my then 2 year old hand selected toys that she no longer uses to donate to children who otherwise wouldn't have toys for Christmas. As she picked each one she kissed it saying good bye and to have fun with a new friend. This past summer I joined my mother and brothers with my baby strapped to my back, and the 3 year old at my side doing yard work and painting for Hope House, a home for wayward young men. Mentioning these things are not intended to gain praise, but rather to lead by example.  Each and every one of us Americans has some sort of talent, time or treasure we can share.

Our work for others is not finished, as long as I'm alive, I will do all that I can to lighten the load of someone else. 

 I wish that everyone really honored our hero's and those we lost, by following in their footsteps. Then, our country would be a much better place. I wish that for every "never forget" status I see each year, that it would be put into action, rather than simply trending on facebook and twitter.

9/11 should be a humble reminder that daily we should all be striving to rekindle that sense of community, compassion and love that 9/11 inadvertently fostered.

If we do, then all those we did lose, weren't lost in vain. and THAT, is what I'll never forget.