Drilling, Salsa, and a Sweet Card

I love my dentist because he is my uncle. I love my uncle. He was always the “cool” uncle who gave us too much candy and pushed us too fast on Grandma’s very own merry-go-round in her backyard. When he came home from his mission in Japan, he let us eat his Japanese food and play with his Japanese alarm clock.

But really. I hate going to the dentist. I’m a big baby when it comes to sitting in THE CHAIR. I went in last week to have a toothache checked. It turned out to be a sinus infection, but my uncle had me schedule an appointment to get some cavities filled. That appointment was set for next week. They called me a few days ago and bumped it up to yesterday.

As I woke up yesterday, the first thing I thought was “In a few hours I’ll be in THE CHAIR.”
I made breakfast. I dropped Lacy off at preschool. I did my visiting teaching. All the while, my little mental timer was going off.
“Four more hours!”
“Three more hours!”
“Two and a half hours!”

When the time came, I resigned myself to THE CHAIR. I admitted to my uncle that I was very nervous -that dental work always makes me nervous. I then admitted that over the years my teeth had become more and more sensitive and that I would probably need an embarrassing amount of numbing something-or-other.
I was under the impression that we were going to fill 2 cavities.
My dentist then broke the news: we were filling all of them. All FIVE to be exact.
But then my uncle came out to play and gave me laughing gas.

Ah, laughing gas. I felt a little silly, sitting there, inhaling laughing gas. I mean -I’ve pushed two babies completely OUT OF MY BODY and there I was shaking like a leaf at the thought of a teensy drill specifically designed to rid my mouth of decay.
Oh brother.
I silently wondered if there were any way to momentarily detach my head from my body, fix my mouth, and then gently reattach at the neck. I would be all for it.
The laughing gas started doing it’s job, and I smiled. I remember the last time I was given laughing gas.
It was when my dentist pulled my wisdom teeth out. He told my mother -who was keeping a diligent vigil by my side -that laughing gas often made little children fall asleep.
And then I remember closing my eyes and spinning… spinning… spinning… I could hear the soft background noise of the television -the gentle hum of the machines around me. Gradually, the noises grew softer and gave way to the sound of my breathing. My entire body relaxed. UNTIL…
I felt a strong pull. It stopped my happy spinning and tried to pull me out of it. I fought it, but it was growing stronger. My will gave in -laughing gas has a way of weakening you like that. I cracked one eye open and heard my dentist chuckle, “She fell asleep.”
It turns out there’s two types of people who fall asleep with laughing gas: little kids and sleep-deprived young mothers.

Yesterday, I’m happy to report, I didn’t fall (completely) asleep. Hooray! I’m also happy to report that my uncle numbed me up so well that I only felt a little pain a total of 3 times during 2 1/2 hours of my sitting in THE CHAIR.
He ended up filling 6 cavities, by the way.
He is a champ. It was hard to thank him, though, when he was done. It’s always hard to thank anyone when you can’t feel the lower half of your jaw.

I went home, picked up the kids from my sainted babysitter, and resigned myself to my living room floor to work on my blasted wreath for an hour or so. I knew I had piano lessons to teach that afternoon, but I couldn’t talk. How can you teach if you can’t talk?
Well, you pray. You PRAY that enough of the numbing stuff will wear off in time. As it happened, I was able to talk enough to one parent (my aunt who would never ever ever judge me for talking like a slobbering drunk) and cancel. By the time my second student came, I was able to talk enough that he only laughed at me once.
By the time Enrichment rolled around, I had made almost a complete recovery and was so hungry that I ate 3 servings my aunt’s Black Bean Salsa (recipe compliments of my brother, Steve). I should have been embarrassed about the way I shoved it into my mouth using a homemade tortilla chip (no spoons), but I didn’t even care. I mean -it had CILANTRO in it!

This morning, I’m absolutely thrilled to have that done and over with. My uncle makes my dentist look so friendly.

Quick backtrack:
When I picked Lacy up from preschool, she had a couple of crafts for me. I love them! I sat for a good 15 minutes last night just looking at the big paper card she had made. I love it so much I want to share it with you. I know you’ll appreciate it.
In one corner:
Ah, I love that. It makes me laugh every time I look at it. Why? Because I choose to believe it’s true even though it isn’t.
Snuggly really is the best. Our family is so touchy-feely with each other there oughta be a warning sign on our door.
I’m just soaking up as much as possible before they get to an age where they don’t want their mom slobbering all over them.
I submit that there is nothing cuter than this. “I love my mom” written in scrawly handwriting? That is TEXTBOOK for “cutest thing in the entire world.”
Look out, future suitors. SOMEONE likes bling. And you know what they say about diamonds? A girl’s best friend.
“You have six fingers on your [left] hand. Someone was looking for you.”

Thanks, Aunt Cat, for the sweetest Mother’s Day card I’ve ever received.
Thanks, Uncle Clarence, for the laughing gas, numbing stuff, fillings, and japanese candy.
Thanks, Aunt Julie, for the salsa. Also: thanks for not making fun of me when I tried to ask you for an aluminum pan. It’s hard to say “aluminum” when you can’t feel your jaw, but like a CHAMP -you knew what I meant.

Anyone want to weave their way into my family? I have the greatest. Just remember: anyone who marries my daughter needs to be prepared to fork out quite a bit for bling. and chocolate.

Getting in the Mood for Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day is Sunday.  I hope I’m not the only one out there who has to give my husband warnings.

“Mother’s Day is in two weeks.”
“Mother’s Day is happening during this pay period.”
“This is your one week Mother’s Day warning.”

He never gets upset about the reminding. He only thanks me profusely. I’m excited for Mother’s Day this year. Every year, I cook a Mother’s Day dinner for my grandma and mom. This year we’ll be having BBQ ribs (made with Dr. Pepper), homemade potato salad, leaf salad, and cinnamon rolls for dessert. I can’t wait for the meal to come together! I can’t wait for our families to come together! Did I mention that I was excited to give my mom her Mother’s Day gift? I AM! It was put into my hands on Sunday, and I’m absolutely hopping excited to hand it over to my mom. I even took pictures of it! But I can’t share them yet. Because I signed my mom up for email feeds from my blog, so she HAS to read my crap.

My husband got asked to speak in church on Mother’s Day. AND so did my Dad. Excitement! Yes I’ll attend an extra hour of church just to hear my dad speak. Don’t you think I won’t!

Last night, I started feeling the Mother’s Day love. After the kids got out of their bath, they came to me on the couch for lotion and PJs. My son has the cutest hooded towel, and I was surprised when he crawled up on the couch and nestled himself down for the biggest, most snuggly hug in the whole world.
Can you see his little towel-clad arms wrapped around me?
It was the sweetest thing.
And there he stayed until he’d gotten his fill. Then he moved and let his sister get her lotion and PJs. After I got her dressed, I sat on the floor.
“You might brush my hair,” my daughter said.
“Yeah,” I nodded, “sit right here…” I motioned to a spot on the floor in the front of me between my legs.
“No,” she shook her head, “You might put your legs like…” She pushed my legs together and then laid herself on top of them. It took my by completely surprise! Have you ever balanced a four-year old on your legs before? It might have been hard had she not been a perfect fit.
(see the wreath off to the right side? Remind me to tell you about THAT later.)
I looked down at our feet and it made me so happy.
We said our prayers and then told the kids to hop in bed, but they didn’t. Lacy wanted her hair brushed some more, and Trenton wanted to play with his Dad some more.
So I went on brushing completely unaware that my husband took this picture.
He bought a Droid (Thunderbolt) last month and he’s been using the heck out of it. He went a little picture happy. And he went a little effects happy too. Why is the above picture blue? I asked him.
Because it can be! He answered.
Ahhhhhh… freshly bathed babies. Nothing in the world smells as sweet.
I only wonder where my son went when all of this picture taking was going down…

And now. I’m going to tell you about the wreath. I started it on Friday night. I saw a tutorial on a website for it. The woman talked about how easy it was to make. How she saw one at a boutique for $40 and then went home and made one for $2. I was really excited about the idea of making one. I sat curled up on the floor Friday night and watched television with my husband as I cut swirls out of pages torn from a book and made little roses and glued them to a wreath.
I giggled with every new rose made and paraded the wreath in front of my husband’s face.Photobucket
“Isn’t it looking good?” I squealed.
And then came Saturday. And Sunday. And Monday. And that blasted thing STILL isn’t done! I’ve been working on it for days and hours and hours! I’ve streamed just about every classic Netflix movie that looks even remotely interesting! My husband came home from work last night and found me curled up in front of my poor page-ripped book.
“Still at it?” He asked. I aimed the glue gun at my wreath and pretended to shoot it.
He laughed at me.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You were so excited about it and now you hate it,” he laughed, “It’s cute.”

Want to know what to get me for Mother’s Day darling?
Some good sense to not start silly projects like this!
Also… dear, can you make paper roses? I need about 40 more.

Teaching, Learning. Growing?

As I made cinnamon rolls yesterday (on account of the chilly turn in the weather), my daughter played under my feet.  I wasn’t paying much attention to what she was doing until she started singing, “Follow the Prophet.”

At least, the words she was singing went to the TUNE of “Follow the Prophet.”  Technically speaking, it was totally jibberish.  I looked down at her and saw that she was leading three sock monkeys.


“Honey, are you teaching them the song Follow the Prophet?” I asked.
“NO!” She turned to look at me, shaking her head in frustration, “Just don’t bother me! I’m teaching them MY song!”
Oh, well.
Pardon the intrusion.

Tonight I’ll be teaching HER about cleaning. Little does she know -she’s about to get hit with a chore chart.
I found a fun link that lets to customize your own chore chart. I made Trent’s with a Veggie Tales theme and I made Lacy’s with a Princess theme.
I think it’s only fair my husband gets one. I wouldn’t want to leave anyone out. He likes Sponge Bob, right?

CLICK HERE to customize your own chore chart!