This is what I want...

For any of those family members who buy me gifts for my birthday... this is what I want...
Check out the you tube video of the tenor singing my absolute favorite song from a wonderful opera!
Tear producing, goose bump initiating and all around awesome.

Sound of Music | Central Station Antwerp (Belgium)

In my perfect world... this is how every single day would be.
Happy Easter Everyone. Thank You Jesus for what you did for us... for your sacrifice, for the Sound of Music, Julie Andrews, and everything else you have given us.

Wordless Wednesday

I know it's wordless and it's Wednesday, but I have two things to say.

First to Barbie:

"If you weren't a replica of a blond model who is 5'9', 110 pounds, with the following measurements, 39-18-33, I probably would have saved you, but you'll just have to think your way out of this one."

And secondly to my kids, "WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?"

RIP

Well our inadequacy as pet owners continues to shine. We have killed off yet another bearded dragon. (I kept telling the boys of this family that they needed to take better care of it... because I wasn't about to touch it... but that's another rant...)

So we discovered that the dearly loved, but nearly neglected bearded dragon, coincidentally called Beardie, died yesterday. We discovered it yesterday... but he could have been dead for weeks...like I said, he hasn't been getting a lot of attention lately.

Last time, we dug a little grave in my flower bed and had a little ceremony. We sang a few songs and said a few words.

When Beardie 1 died (yes, we named Beardie 2 the same name...in a very non-creative moment) everyone cried and sobbed over him. Jack listened to Pink Floyd's "Wish you were here" on repeat until I thought I was going to scream. Justine kept crying and crying, saying over and over, "It's all my fault." I'm not sure what she thinks she did.

With this latest death, we opted for the economy funeral because quite frankly, we are too busy, it is too cold, the ground is too hard to dig any graves, and he was beginning to stink. So Jeff gently placed him in a container in the trash. After my disgusting post with pictures of rotting food, I will spare you the picture of Beardie's last moments.

We tried to keep things a little more low key. Of course Justine kept going on and on and on about how Beardie was up in heaven with the Father above. If she said it once, she said it a million times. She even wrote a song about it.

When Jeff asked her to tell Jack where Beardie was, clearly his attempt at making him feel better... she replied, "Oh, he's in the trash can."

HIPPA violation?

All the names and most of the details of this story have been changed so as to protect those involved and to ensure that I do not violate any privacy laws. I believe to fully understand me, it's important to understand what I deal with every single weekend... and perhaps this will explain why I am somewhat cynical, sick and twisty.

I had a patient last night in the ICU who I had the pleasure of wrestling with for several hours. Earlier in the evening, this young man had come to his brother's house .... altered. Typically altered in the medical field means they have taken some substance to cause them to be altered. They live to be altered. Being altered comes before all else. Let's just say he had a tattoo of a mushroom and an eight ball...

So the very young man came to his brother's house altered. His behavior was erratic and he was borderline responsive. He passed out. The brother's girlfriend freaked out and started doing CPR. She called 911. WHILE the not needed CPR was in progress, he could hear the sirens from the ambulance and thought it was the police. Therefore he did what any rational person would do... he freaked out , interrupting the not needed CPR in progress, and jumped out of a two story window.

Funny right?

OK, for those soft hearted readers... he wasn't hurt... too bad.

Not My Not Me Mondays...

I know I haven't done Not Me! Monday for awhile, and I miss it. So today will be Not Me! Last weeks. MckMama, whose website you can access from the "praying for Stellan" picture at the top of my blog, is generally my inspiration for such posts, but her baby has been in the hospital for the past almost two weeks with SVT (supraventricular tachycardia). Please keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

I have kept some of these "Not Me!" moments to myself, and can no longer contain myself.

I did not tell Justine that she was finally tall enough to go down the slide at the Family Center... I did not celebrate with her and jump up and down all happy for her.

She did not go down that slide a million times.

The lifeguard did not appear to shake her head and look puzzled as I encouraged Jus to go again and again and again.

And at the end of the day, when I wanted a picture, just for posterity's sake, ... I did not realize there must have been a parallax error from where I was sitting. I had not been encouraging my too small child to go on a waterslide she most definitely was not tall enough to go on. OOPS.

I did not drive all over Kansas City on a wild goose chase looking for a prom dress which is definitely not made of burlap and satin for a certain girl who is absolutely a burlap and satin kind of girl...

(If any of you readers live anywhere near an Anthropologie Store anywhere other than Kansas City... give me an email... there could be a prize in it if you can find the dress we are looking for...)

I did not parallel park my Expedition in Country Club Plaza in Kansas City, going backwards up a hill into this tinsy, tiny spot...

I did not almost hit that Mercedes...

And no, I was not completely in the middle of the road.

I definitely did not get out and take a picture of my handy work.

And the people walking past my parking job did not laugh and point at me.

OK, this one is totally not for the weak stomached readers. And please do not think less of me after this confession.

Let's say somewhere around the first of the year, like maybe January, our second refrigerator in the garage died. It didn't cough or sputter or blink or make a funny noise... it just absolutely died.

Let's also say that we had not put all of our Christmas left overs in that said fridge.

Perhaps I didn't think about the tons and tons of leftovers in there, or perhaps I was feeling a bit lazy or even a little scared of what I might find.

Let's just say that I didn't open the door of that fridge for, oh let's say,... 4 months...

Well I did not "clean" that refrigerator out this week... and when I say clean, I mean throw away all the good baking dishes and call someone to come pick up the "black mold encrusted appliance."

I also did not take a picture of what 4 month old left over at room temperature sweet potato pie looks like.

I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't generally post pictures of myself.

I definitely would never post an unflattering picture of myself in an old swimsuit.

I can't even believe I'm posting this and if I get any coupons for weight watchers or whale watching, I'm never going to blog to any of you again.

But I definitely did not attempt to climb across this great abyss at the Great Wolf Lodge in Kansas City last week. I did not fall, screaming like a sissy, sucking in half that pool, and scaring the entire population of children to death.

Check out Jameson's face - it's hysterical how scared she looks.

I did not break down and get my (supposedly) 12 year old (and when I say supposedly, I mean supposedly 12, not supposedly my son) son a cell phone for his birthday. I did not actually say that I thought texting would improve his spelling skills and that having a phone would improve his social anxiety.

He was not really happy... for at least a week.

After the Ethiopian pout of today, I do not want to shove that phone where the sun doesn't shine.

Financial Aid Package....

We received the financial aid package today from the University of Chicago.

And let's just say.... woo hoo...

Jordan is Chicago bound!

For those of you wondering... Berkeley rejected her. Stupid heads. Just as well. It's easier to get to Chicago....

Ethiopian Pout...

Ahhhh.... ethiopian pout. How I have not missed you... and am not glad to see your raise your ugly head again. I pray you go away as quickly as you came back...