Kicking the Dog When It's Down....

So you know how I had my lady parts ripped out 3 weeks ago? Oh, and remember how I'm now really anemic as Lady Dr. clamped off my artery too hard and internal bleeding ensued?

Yeah, well, yesterday my tooth broke. So today I got to spend 4 hours at the dentist getting a root canal and a crown. The dentist was awesome as was his staff (hilarious actually. I laughed the whole time, and I didn't even have any laughing gas), and I could tell he/they really felt bad about putting me through that ordeal so soon after surgery. They handled me with some serious TLC, and have now completely changed my opinions of dental offices (meaning they are no longer the opening to the underworld). They offered me serious pain meds to get through the weekend, but I learned a long time ago that Lortab, Percocet and Morphine are not Loma's BFF's. Motrin will have to do.

I think TQ knew I was just about on the brink of a physical/mental/emotional break down after this last kick in the you-know-where. I walked in the house to a sparkling clean kitchen, a cleaned and organized playroom in the basement, and all the laundry folded. She is truly an angel. For her reward, I got her a Diet Coke from McDonalds and her Itouch was paroled to her a week early.

If your going to have crisis after crisis, I recommend getting a teenage daughter first. You can't have mine though.

What Is Wrong With Me?????

I can't stop watching old episodes of The Real Housewives of New Jersey. TQ says it's like watching old women pretend they are in high school. Maybe that's the appeal- that you get to vicariously live in the chaos of petty intrigues, cat fights, vain, selfish impulses and gawdy "new money" displays of wealth without having to actually participate in the soap opera-esque life. But no matter the "why" this I know for sure- should I ever travel to New Jersey I'm first frying then dying my hair until it can stand 6 inches above my head on its own without the aid of product; second, locating a tanning salon that specializes in the "extreme jaundice glow"; and lastly, buying every skin tight animal print and metallic shirt/tube top/skirt/dress/leggings in the greater Salt Lake area. I may be just a hick Mormon girl from Utah but I'm pretty sure I can pull off the native look. Speaking like them? Well, that's a whole other problem.

Birthday Wishes to My Sister.....

(Loma dancing with Princess Manda, circa nineteen eighty-something)


Dear my favorite Manda,
I am so so glad that 25 years, 6 hours and 2 minutes ago our muther birthed you out of her canal. I am glad you came out well and that the epidural- her first- worked. She might have sent you back had it not. Thank you for your first 5 years of life, for being my real-life barbie and dress up doll, and letting me poof your hair to unholy heights and give you layer upon layer of bangs. Thank you for willing wearing countless articles of 80's master neon clothing that I picked out for you. Even after you decided to take you fashion future into your own hands, you still agreed to wear my super ugly forest green, drop waist bridesmaid dress when I got married. For that I am indebted to you forever, and vow to wear any hideous dress or pantsuit of your choice when you get hitched. You also have the distinction of giving me the best wedding shower advice of all time, that I "shouldn't take any of his crap". Your relationship started kind of rocky, as you despised him with the hate of a thousand fiery demons for taking your sister away, but I think that over the past 14 years The King has grown on you, kind of like a rash that annoyed you at first but you've scratched so much that it doesn't really itch so much anymore. You are now and have always been the bestest aunt Manda-Fancy-La La-Single O-Amanda in the whole world, and I hope I can live the rest of my days in such as way that I am worthy so that we can build our next-door mansions in heaven. But until then, you complete me, and the eggs from my single ovary are incubating somewhere in my belly just waiting to be called on should you need them. Oh, and go UTES!!!!!!!!!!
Love, Loma


(TQ, Loma and Manda today- Sisters, BF's and Q-P's forever. Yes, she is taller than me. 5'11.5" to my 5'9.5". I'm not bitter. Well, not much)

(Note to reader- yes I understand that "muther" is not a real word. It's a Quarter-puertor thing. As is "bestest", "la la" and "single O". I'd let you in on the secret, but you'd have to have a DNA test first to prove your heritage. If you are skittish around needles there's a multiple choice "can you use duct tape to fix ________?" test you can take that involves no blood drawing. Sorry, it's how we Q-P's roll gringos.)

Bribery...

Man Child just told me that I am his best friend all because I (A) didn't make him finish his lunch and (B)let him put off his "rest time" for an hour to finish watching "Madagascar 2" with his brother.

You know that fine line between "gifting" and "bribery"? I'm not above straddling it.

Guess What Fantastic Items Arrived Today In.......

My mailbox:



(Yeah baby, those are our Utah Football Season Tickets. GO UTES!!!!!!)

And in my Inbox:




Sorry Max Hall- it was too good to pass up :)

Can You Tell What Kind of Day I'm Having?

I'm going to write a book titled "What I Learned About Being a Parent While Messing Up my Kids' Lives".


Here are a few chapter's I've come up with:

Fiscal Responsibility: Why refusing to take your kids to library because of their massive accumulated fines is better than encouraging their love of reading.

You Have Free Agency- You Just Have To Get My Approval Of It First.

If I Say You Rolled Your Eyes You Did: Mom Is Never Wrong.

It's Okay To Be A Non-Conformist: It Doesn't Really Mean You Are Lazy If You're Not Dressed by Noon.

They'll Never Know What To Expect: How Using the time honored tradition of " you have to the count of 3 to....." but disciplining on count 2, or starting on 3 and getting it over with immediately keeps them on their toes.

From Teenager to Toddler: Why Allowing the Middle Child a Day to Boss and Torment the Oldest for 24 hours is a Great Way to Fix Out Of Balance Sibling Relationships

Reverse Psychology: Me No!
Child Yes!
Me No!
Child Yes!
Me No!
Child Yes!
Me Yes!
Child No!
Gotcha!

Putting it Back in Their Face: How playing the "Mom, Stop Copying Me Game" to Demonstrate how Annoying and Irritating their Constant Whining Is. How Long Can They Handle Hearing You Repeat Everything They Say?

Keeping it Simple: How to Answer the Most Annoying Repetitive Question with One Word Answers. We'll look at approaches to-
What's for dinner? (Food)
Why do I have to go? (Because)
When are we leaving? (Later)

Train Them Early: The Younger They Are The More Gullible They Are.


That's all I have for now. Any suggestions?

Julia and Julia? I Think Not!

I just managed to burn No-Bake cookies.

It takes a special kind of special to ruin a recipe that most 7th grade Home Ec. students master on their first day being allowed in the kitchen. I wish there was a remedial Home Ec. class offered to adults. Maybe I should look into one of those "get your high school diploma at night" programs. You had to take a certain number of "artsy fartsy" credits to graduate, right? As a band nerd I never had to grace the walls of the art department (and I'm sure the teachers sighed a big 'whew' in relief for that one), and now I see that my home skill training was definitely lacking. Don't even ask about sewing. When we made pajama pants for a YW activity a year ago, the 14 year old girls had to teach me how to use my sewing machine (a kind yet cruel Christmas present from my parents. I can't decide if they were saying "you need to be domestic" or "you really need to be domestic").

So Suzy Homemaker I am not. I wish I felt badly about it, but I don't. I even scooped up the smoking remains of the cookies, rolled (okay forced) them into balls and threw them in the refrigerator. Cooling them down will make it all better I'm sure. If not, I'll just slap some ice cream on top and chocolate sauce and no one will be the wiser.

Until they read this.....hopefully after they've digested for a while....

Guys Just Don't Understand...

The King just called the hysterectomy post my "vagina monologue".

If only he knew......

Day Three of Football Conditioning.....

Fox got drafted today.

From his father's reaction, you'd think it was into the NFL, not the WFFL 15 and under league. Apparently he made it on the "best" team with the "greatest" coaches. The whole concept of a draft for 9/10 year olds is confusing to me. How do they know discover the future Chad OchoCinco or Peyton Manning after watching 70 boys run in circles, most of them unable to move under the weight of their helmet?

Fox has never eaten as much or relished dinner more than he has the last 3 days. He is a never ending pit of hunger. At dinner tonight, after shoveling in 2 chicken quesadillas in record speed, he still looked over at my plate with greedy eyes and asked "are you eating that?" Being the kind, generous to a fault mom that I am I offered my dinner, but his dad decided to distract him from foraging by discussing the "motivation" Fox could use to be very aggressive on the field. (Warning- Dr. Phil or any other tv psychology whores would not approve of the following philosophy). According to dad, the greatest part of football is that you can take all of the anger and built up hostility you've held in for 9 months of the year- such as every time you've wanted to pile drive your sister for being bossy or punch a bully in the nose at school- and channel it into pushing the crap out of and totally dominating your opponent on the field.

I sat pretty quietly during this conversation listing to the angel/devil conflict going on in my head (no I'm not crazy- going inside my head and blocking out the rest of the world is my happy place). The devil voice agreed with The King. Fox is very easy going but he allows all his negative energy to build up and build up until he explodes. He rarely gets mad but when he does, holy crap watch out. Three months of hurt feelings, broken promises and little annoyances will come out. Football will be a great way for him to channel all that energy. My father, who played for the University of Utah in the late 60's (did you know the Utes are in the Pac10 now? Oh you did? No, BYU wasn't invited. Sorry- but not really) always said that the freedom to go on the field and just push someone around at will is the best feeling in the world. And even though he was a pad wearing hulk/machine of destruction for many years, he's been a totally productive member of society as long as I've know him. Well, there was that one time when he stopped at a red light and almost grabbed the man who had just cut us off out his driver's side window. But just as his eyes were turning green and his shirt started to tear around his biceps, he settled down and returned to our car and 4 bewildered and semi-terrified faces. Oh, I bet he never wanted me to share that. Whoops.

On the other hand, my angel voice was screaming "no, this is your sweet, sensitive little boy. The kid that tells his overwhelming sister daily that she is his best friend. He is like the Pied Piper to all children under 5; they flock to him as if he were Santa. He gives the greatest hugs in the world". I love him just the way he is; I don't want him to change into a fighting machine. But to be successful I know he has to aggressive and dominate, not be dominated.

I think it's best that I take the back seat on this one and let his dad be the driver. It's so cool watching them "talk shop" and work on drills (except when they take place in my living room and involve pushing couches around on my carpet). I'll stay away from the practices- I'd be too tempted to chew out the coach for making him do push-ups for taking off his helmet, and just cheer my heart out for him at the games. I can be a good football mom. I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.......

Fox just asked why you have to use your brain in football. Don't you just get mad and hit people?

I think he's going to do well in this sport.

Question....

Am I a bad mother because I actually LIKE it when the Man Child is sick? He's so quiet and complacent and snuggly. I almost forget that he's a 40+ pound wrecking ball of energy the rest of the time.

We're Going Well Into 'Too Much Information' Land........

I bet you've been wondering where I've been.

Alright, so you probably didn't care, or even noticed how long it's been since I posted anything beyond Fox's "quote of the day", but I think I'll explain anyway. It's therapeutic to get things out in the open, right?

Oh, I should probably warn anyone reading with who has a Y chromosome this is going to "no man land". Literally.

Where to begin? About 3 weeks ago I finally made an appointment to see my fav Ob/Gyn. She's my favorite because #1: she's a she and I've never been comfortable with Dr. Dude looking at my lady parts, and #2: we have this great relationship where she doesn't call me or bug me, or care how long it's been since I've seen her (unlike a certain dentist I won't "out". Stupid tooth scraper!). But since we're coming up on the Man CHild's 4th birthday, which coincidentally marks the 4th anniversary of the LAST time I visited her, I figured I'd had sufficient healing time to go again (aka. block out the memory/pretending it never happened.

I just realized that there is a #3 to my list: my Dr. works that speculum with the speed and accuracy of Edward Scissor hands. The entire exam experience would have been 10 minutes start to finish had she not found a "problem". She explained it in very complicated and technical terms (with diagrams and illustrations no less! BTW, there is nothing sexier than a drawing of the female reproductive system. If we really want to cure the world of the scourge of porn, I say we take the skin off the ladies and let the gents see what we look like underneath. I'm just saying.), but in simple man terms I guess in the last 4 years my uterus had decided to fall out.

Did you even know a uterus could fall out? One day I could have been walking into church and all of a sudden birthed a lumpy, pear shaped baby bag in the middle of Sunday school. Now that I think of it, it might of been a good way to get out of the lesson. My timing sucks.

Anyway, Lady Dr. told me I needed to get that puppy out and quick (again, a rough translation). So fast forward to last Monday and wham, bam, thank you mam- I am now fruitless and barren. Luckily my hubby will still keep me.

I'd recommend a hysterectomy to every one- well, maybe not to you men. I know castratos were valued for their operatic voices and as "safe" eunichs in royal courts, but that was so 300 years ago. You go ahead and keep your stuff, unless you are Hugh Heffner and then I say man it's time to retire. Oh, Mel Gibson and Larry King- you too. But we ladies are not as enamored with our lady tubes. Outside of bringing the joy of motherhood, they are basically just a bane on our existence. An iron ball and chain on our happiness. So begone foul matter I say!

I should warn you ladies that the post-surgery recovery is harder and more painful than the blogs and med sites will admit. It felt a lot like my post C-Section, except that the hyster aches radiate like an equator around your entire lower abdomen. I'm a week and 2 days post surgery, and I'm almost back to normal. Had I not had some complications and internal bleeding during the procedure I think I would have been up and running late last week. Oh, it was nothing life threatening luckily- Lady Dr. just clamped one ovary off too tightly and it wouldn't stop bleeding. After trying for 30 minutes to get it to stop, she finally just removed the ovary all together. Which brings up an interesting point. She was able to keep my other ovary. But as it is attached to nothing, is it just floating around in my belly? Can I pass it back and forth like a ping pong ball by pushing on my tummy? Will it migrate north for the winter and hide behind my appendix and try to mate with it, making a ovendix? Or a gallvary? Hmmm....things to things about.

So now if anyone were to ask me if a hysterectomy is a good choice- knowing expense and pain involved- I'd say all in all, totally worth it. I was one of the "fortunate" few whose procedure was a medical necessity so my insurance covered it (for many women it's considered an elective procedure so not covered). I know this will make me feel better. I worry a little about the hormone situation-especially with only 1 ovary instead of 2- but they have come so far in the last decade with hormone therapy that I'm sure it will be alright.

Oh, and just so you're aware so you can plan ahead, I have officially deemed July 26th as "Free From Periods Forever" Day. I'm not sure how long it will take to make it a federal holiday, but when you get the day off with holiday pay you can thank me. I like all things chocolate and carb-loaded. And Diet Coke. But that goes without saying.

Everyone Should Have at Least One of These.....