Living is Hazardous To My Health

I am a serious threat to myself.  Thank goodness I only hurt me.

It’s amazing that I was able to carry three babies to term, care for them and raise them without maiming them.  Sure, I’ve smacked a few of them in the head with the Wii remote during a grueling tennis match (my backhand is really, really bad) but I’ve never dropped them, set them on fire or misplaced them.  I’ve even been heroic at times, putting the lives of my children above my own peril.  I was feeding Beena her bottle when she was a few weeks old and since I don’t know how to properly sit in a chair, I had my legs folded up under me.  When she was finished and sleeping soundly in my arms, I unfolded myself and stood up meaning to take her into her room for a nap.  Since I couldn’t feel my legs because they were also sound asleep, I couldn’t feel the floor under my feet and promptly started falling forward.  In a slow motion playback I still see to this day, I tossed the sleeping Beena into the lap of our friend Billy, who was over watching TV with the Ex-Asshole, and I continued falling, twisting my sleeping ankle and then crashing to the floor.

Baby Beena never woke up.  Billy stared at her wondering how she fell from the ceiling into his lap.  I writhed on the floor in pain.  Again.  Dad took me to the hospital.  Again.  I ended up with a sprained ankle and Beena slept through the night for the first time.

See?  I could have fallen ON the baby.  Nope- I don’t hurt others.  That’s not my M.O.  Only myself.

My latest injury doesn’t involve falling, although I’ve done that twice on the ice so far this winter.  I didn’t fall down stairs, or bump into walls.  Not yet, at least.  My latest injury happened Monday while I was eating lunch.

In all fairness, everyone has at one time or another burned the roof of their mouth on a hot piece of pizza.  And you know how hot that is because sometimes the skin peels away and your tongue can’t help rubbing across those little blisters.  You KNOW what I’m talking about.

I, however, managed to burn the OUTSIDE of my mouth with flaming hot pizza napalm.  I bit into my homemade pita pizza and the sauce oozed out and missed my mouth, dripping down my chin, searing my skin like acid.  I wiped at it with my hand, screaming as my flesh sizzled and then screaming some more because now my hand is sizzling too.  The dogs start barking and jumping around because I’m screaming and jumping around and they know that pizza is theirs if I drop it.  MR comes upstairs, finds me with an inch gash of melted flesh at the corner of my mouth and runs to break off a piece of aloe.

FML.

Couple this burn with the remnants of the teen-worthy zit on the other side of my mouth and I look like a demented vampire that didn’t have enough sense to wipe his face after he ate.

I seriously need to invest in a roll of bubble wrap.

The Best Christmas Gifts Ever

I looked over my blogs from last year and I can’t believe I didn’t write about my favorite Christmas gift of 2009 (Insert Interrobang here…ha!)  I loved all my gifts, but the one that I’ve used time and time again over the past year was the one Dad got me.

This beauty:

For about 70 cents, I can make a loaf of bread with ingredients I can pronounce.  Nothing artificial goes into our bread.  The bread flour I use isn’t bleached, not that it matters, most of the family likes whole wheat bread better.  Beena gave me this fantastic book for my birthday and I’ve been working my way through the recipes.  Our favorites?  Country White, Household Loaf, Honey Whole Wheat, Hamburger and Hot Dog Buns, pretzels and of course, the Thursday night staple- pizza dough.  I tried the Quinoa bread the other night and it was absolutely scrumptious. 

When I told people I got a bread maker for Christmas, 8 out of 10 people said something along the lines of “You’re going to gain so much weight eating all that fresh bread!”  WTH?  I know I have to cut down on my carbs and all but I’ve never, NEVER been tempted to eat a whole loaf of bread, freshly baked or not.  I shake my head sometimes at the stupidity.  Fine.  No bread for you!

Last year, prior to Christmas, I posted things I coveted in my “I’ll make buying me a gift easy for you” list at the left.  In no particular order of covetedness, they were:

(Okay, did you notice that the Silhouett Cutter was bold?  I guess there was an order of covetedness…)

My wonderful family reads my blog AND takes hints.  MR got me the Silhouette Cutter (more on that in an upcoming blog post), Zombiegirl got me fuzy warm slippers (ahhh, sigh), Beena and Kansas got me the fourth season of Dexter (yay!) and Dad got me the purple Leatherman (it’s so pretty!  I’ll never have to bother MR for a screwdriver again…), the Espresso Vodka (yumminess to the 10th degree!  Gets you drunk AND buzzed at the same time…) and the Hans Christian Anderson DVD (which was as good and cheesy as I remembered as a kid.  Unfortunately, none of my children wanted to watch this classic with me.  And when I went around the house singing “Hans Christian Anderson…Anderson, that’s me!”  they groaned and left the room.)

Pure awesomness.  The gifts AND the family.

It was definitely a boozy holiday.  From my Secret Santa (BIL Eric) I got Danny DeVito’s Limoncello and a beautiful ceramic decanter to serve it in as well as Bacardi Gold.  Cuba Libres for everyone!

So now that my wish list has been cut in half and my birthday is in less than two months, I’m revising said list with more stuff I covet.  In no particular order of covetedness (Yeah.  New word.):

My needs are simple.  In fact, I would forgo any of the above for a weekend away with my husband.  Here, here or here would be fine.  I would even settle for an overnight on the Appalachian trail.  Something, anything. We haven’t been away alone since our honeymoon.  And no, Beena.  I do NOT count Riverhead because there’s always Danny…

Thank you, family, for the wonderful gifts this past Christmas! See?  Wasn’t that easy?

Next up, what I gave for Christmas.  It IS better to give than receive…

Interro-what?!

I admit it, when the girls were small, we told them a few fibs.  We convinced them we had gone on vacation to Texas, that the trip to the miniature pony farm was really to drop them off at an orphanage and that there were two new characters in the alphabet.  Yes, they may need therapy someday because of it.  It runs in the family, however.  My parents convinced me once that spaghetti grew on trees.

Remember the old Ronzoni commercial of the Italian family picking pasta off the trees in the orchard?  My parents sent me out of the room before they showed the napkin that said “Spaghetti doesn’t really grow on trees” and subsequently convinced me over time that this is where spaghetti came from.

I’m impressionable.  And apparently, stupid.  And my parents definitely had a little bit of a mean streak…

So, MR and I had convinced the girls that there were two new letters in the alphabet- CH and PH (as in “Chuck” and “Phone”)  I even made up a symbol for them.  We had them going for a little while, but (as I’m sure they will agree) they are “smarter” than we are, and figured out it was all a lie.It was fun, though, writing out words with the new alphabet.

When I came across this punctuation mark, I thought someone was pulling my leg.  I read it on another blog and it seemed too good to be true.  So I Googled it and it seems it’s been around since 1962!  Where have you been all my life, Interrobang?! 

Dammit.  I can’t illustrate the beauty of this punctuation mark in the blog because I can’t figure out the HTML.  But it is wondrous.  A marriage of exclamation and question mark, it’s like discovering a new sound or the perfect word for a fleeting feeling.    The perfect punctuation for such phrases as:

  • “You’re seriously wearing that to meet my parents (Insert Interrobang here)”
  • “You need how much money for college (Insert Interrobang here)”
  • “The dog ate what (Insert Interrobang here)”
  • This isn’t toothpaste- what the f*ck is this (Insert Interrobang here)”

I’m trying it out in Microsoft Outlook.  I can totally use this in emails  to coworkers like:

  • “How many times do I actually have to go over this with you (Insert Interrobang here)”
  • “You’ve screwed up so many times, how it is you’re still employed here (Insert Interrobang here)”
  • You’re taking off again (Insert Interrobang here)”
  • “Did you actually read the whole email (Insert Interrobang here)”

Such a useful little punctuation mark.   What would you use it for?

All Was Right in the Universe

Even though we got banged again with another winter storm, yesterday turned out to be a pretty good day.  It was one of those days where everything clicked and things ran smoothly.  At least for me.  And that usually doesn’t happen.

We’re averaging one snow storm a week this past month.  Storms severe enough to close the schools and make me throw the covers back over my head and take a sick day.  Commuting in this mess is nearly impossible- buses get stuck and the LIRR just can’t handle anything over a few pretty snowflakes.  When I see the forecast includes snow, my dread level rises.

I found out a few weeks ago that more than half my team at work can remotely log in to their desktops at work and work from home.  One guy on my team lives and commutes from the Poconos.  He’s always snowed in and always working from home.  Holy snowflakes, where can I get in on this?  I approached (threatened) my team leader about getting approval to do the same and two weeks later I’m sitting in my craft room in my jammies and slippers logging on and doing work during the latest ice storm.  School was closed for Zombiegirl and I’m answering emails.  I was able to log on for once without a glitch or a call to the Help Desk.

Technology is a wondrous thing.

I didn’t have to deal with the four hour commute, the constant distractions and the overpriced lunches.  No overcrowded third-world bus.  No annoying co-workers on their personal, long-winded phone calls.  Zombiegirl went to a friend’s house and I was able to get tons of work done.

Of course, routines have to be run to get calculations from our database.  These routines take anywhere from a few minutes to an hour.  And since my sewing machine is located right next to my laptop…

I finished so much sewing!  I was a multi-tasking whirlwind- emailing, plotting to my plotter in New York, sewing seams on little skirts, making phone calls, running updates, knotting tutus, cleaning up My Documents of eight years of drawings and pdf’s, ironing burp cloths, yadda, yadda and yadda.  I also had an additional four hours that usually gets eaten up by my commute.  I actually started work early and ended later than usual.

I finished the sewing project I was working on and got more done workwise than if I had trudged to work.  And I didn’t even put on big girl clothes!

The day flew by.  At 2:30 I excused myself to take lunch, walking all the way into the kitchen for a sandwich.  At 2:36 I was back at my desk reconfiguring one of our branch floors and making a little baby headband.  I only lost connectivity once- my wireless connection isn’t very good in the back bedroom I call my office.  Other than that little glitch, the workday was a huge success. 

Not so much for MR.  He’s really having a hard time lately.  Besides his wrist, and looking for a job, he thinks he may get a red-light ticket for making a right on red on his way to a meeting yesterday.  He was in the right, but saw the flash.  He stormed and stomped all afternoon while I was basting and formatting.  Poor baby.  We met, dated and married each other while working at the same company.  I don’t think we’d be able to do that now…

So now I eagerly await the next big snowstorm.  I have a house to clean.

I have six blog posts drafted. 

I have 23 pictures in the WordPress Media Library waiting to be written about.

I have three dreamscapes I need to get out of my head.

I have two poems 99% written.

I have 11 awesome websites I want to add to my web pals and links I love.

I have things to say, people to thank, Christmas stories yet to share. 

I can’t find the time to type.

I can’t even think of a title for this post.

What I HAVE been doing is sewing.  And sewing.  Oh, and sewing.  Several different projects all on a deadline and not finished yet

And since we’ve been averaging one snowstorm a week, I’ve been playing in said snow, making a HUGE snow dinosaur with Zombiegirl.  I can’t even finish that.

And, I’ve been taking care of MR.  Seems the more he gets in shape playing soccer, the more he hurts himself.  Since starting to play with the Owls two seasons ago, he’s had shin splints, a sprained ankle, broken ribs, groin tears, three inch blisters and other various bumps, bangs and bruises.  These guys are brutal.  Friday night he had to play goalie since RSS couldn’t make it and nobody else was crazy enough to do it.  He deflected a ball kicked at him from five feet away going 100 mph and bent his right wrist back to a position usually seen in some freaky vampire movie.  Thank goodness he didn’t break/fracture it.  He can move his fingers but can’t twist it or put pressure on it.

Unfortunately, he can’t partake in his favorite pastime.  I have to help him with that…

It did turn pretty colors, though.

The pictures don’t do it justice.

Yeah, I need to get on the ball.  The blog ball, not the soccer ball.