"Please don't pull off your brother's toenail."

long pause, then, "WOW! He didn't even CRY and it was the WHOLE THING!"

*

"The cat does NOT want to wear sandals."

(Seth-1yr was convinced otherwise.)

*

"Quit making Icky Spit Noises, please."  (i must have said this one 10 times just today.)

*

"STOP! The cat REALLY does not want to wear sandals!"

Occasionally when writing, exceptionally random bits of information are needed. I end up calling people and asking weird questions. I call these "Book Research Questions." They can be anything. For my first book i remember calling a friend's (then) teenage daughter and asking her to explain to me what a bellybutton bar was. Enlightening. 

Book Research Question:

has anyone ever had a ring sooo stuck on a finger that it had to be cut off by medical personnel?  or, are you in the medical field and have a professional opinion or experience you could relate?

if so, please email me with all the details you can remember. click the 'email me' thing over there on the left.

Thanks!

Update:

THANK YOU!!! i have all the info i could possibly need on this, and i'm blown away by the response. i was afraid no one would answer, but wow! Several of you were kind enough to give detailed accounts of your own experiences, AND a real live RN wrote with a medical perspective. Each of you who wrote contributed unique details that will be so helpful when i re-write that scene! THANK YOU!

the previous post offended someone, and has since been deleted.

(your hilarious comments were appreciated, however.)

Back in town, drawing will be held tonight, so sign in on the post below!

I'm busy writing, and am in that 'oooh, i just LOVE these characters' phase. Spending every spare minute with them, in fact, so off I go! (the last one I was trying for just didn't 'take.' i really wanted to make a mom-lit work, but it just wouldn't. i'm so glad i let i go. this one is so much fun, and seems to be writing itself. does that sound crazy?)

It's the 17th. The date each month where women the globe over do SELF BREAST EXAMS and then leave a blog comment here saying so. Isn't life good?

Here is what you do. Do that monthly breast exam. Now. Go.

Good. Then leave a comment on THIS post right here saying that you did.

You will feel better for having done your exam, AND you will be eligible for a fantastic prize which I have yet to purchase because I"m just that kind of unorganized.  AND! You get full benefits of Club 17 membership.

Full benefits of club membership include but are not limited to the following:

cool blog button! look to the left and see the cutie in the crown! that's yours after you participate any 6 times. After participating ONLY ONCE, you are eligible for the Not Yet Crowned Cutie. All details found HERE.

Also, the very best comments come on these Club 17 posts. Readers update other readers on their health, their prayers, their stories. Readers ask others to pray or spread the word about things. IT's very chatty.  It's always my favorite comment section, so don't miss it.

Friends and relatives who refuse to comment even on these important posts: email me that you did it, please. i will then assign you a quirky pseudonym for this purpose, post a comment for you saying that you did your BSE and then you will also be eligible for the not yet purchased but altogether lovely prize.  So... email me THAT YOU DID IT, and then I'll name you and enter you and you will be a real live Club 17er.

That offer also stands for my dear lurkers. I adore you, you anonymous and shy readers. You, too, can email me and request that i post a comment on your behalf with a catchy name. For you, anything.  But since you don't comment, I really don't know you well enough to give you a name. When you email me, you might give me a hint as to your hobbies or something like that. (it might take me a few days to get back to you. be patient, dear lurker, and do not think that i've rejected you. i'm just out of town briefly and may or may not have access.)

No matter. Anything for the breast health of the blogosphere, that's what I'm always sayin'.

No not really! That would be weird.

(autoposting. carry on in comments without me and i'll be back soon.)

That is me. The UN cupid...  Is there another word for the opposite of cupid?  I can't think of one, but it's after midnight and i've felt as if i were in slow motion for the last two hours. If there is such a word, my brain couldn't come up with it right now.

I write romantic Christian fiction. Funny love stories. Novels about LOVE. 

I'm a daydreamer. Lover of all things sappy and romantic. 

I just told a guy to dump his girlfriend. He wasn't even ASKING me about his girlfriend. He'd written to me about something else, but gave me enough particulars of their relationship to know - JUST KNOW - that it was doomed. Not worth saving. Irreconcilable. I stopped just short of saying that much. I think he's a great guy, based on this one email. Which means nothing. And I think his girlfriend is probably pretty great, too. But NOT A GOOD MATCH. NOT! 

That song kept running through my head as i typed "HEY HEY I DON"T LIKE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!"  Not that it fit, but it was catchy. Like I said, I think she's probably lovely. But not for him. 

If I were writing their story... they would have dated very briefly and then agreed that they just didn't fit well into each other's lives. AND THEN FOUND SOMEONE ELSE WHO DID. Because that's a happy ending, and I LIKE my happy endings.

Jeana has written a fascinating series. Start here to see how this ties in with the 'not a good match' lesson that is SO important, and then click your way all the way through to the happy ending. Or the happy 'present' I suppose. I did, and with tears in my eyes because i love a good love story.

I hope my e-mailer dumps his girlfriend and finds a good love story to star in. He's in someone else's plot right now and he really, really needs to exit stage left.

Stacey tagged me for a 7 Things Meme...

so here we go!

1.  I'm watching What Not to Wear

2.  I usually don't

3. Today I planted ageratum, petunias, geraniums, pink skull cap, and rosemary

4.  while simultaneously playing fetch with Duke

5.  and sipping a Diet Coke Plus

6. Tonight I (gasp) visited a few blogs and maybe mustered a comment or two

7. and now I'm off to THIS ONE!

Wanna help us name a boat?

it's big and orange.  sort of like:

(no, not our family. total strangers)

My suggestions, after taking it out once:

"Second Thoughts"

and "Orange Roughy"

Mike, predictably, objects to Second Thoughts, and didn't at first get the brilliant play on words that the second one demonstrates.

So. I think my suggestions are out.  Got any?

Yesterday I attempted wakeboarding. I don't know how many times I tried, all unsuccessfully. Ten?  I never even got up, and that was NOT how I had envisioned it. Realistic or not, I was going to be the Queen of the Wake. I'd read the magazines, done the online searches and practiced the stance in front of the mirror. Oh yeah. I really did.  I just hadn't yet met the Wake, for it to crown me. That was supposed to happen yesterday. The Lake did not get the memo. My right ankle got a nice bruise from a too loose binding, and my ridiculous fantasty of athletic wake style prowess? dashed to pieces.  Maybe another day. And maybe not. 

I also stink at backing a trailer into a boat slip. Actually, I stink at TRYING, because I never even came close to stinking at backing it all the way in.

Not Yet a Boat Person,

Kelsey

PS. Please throw out some boat names, y'all!

My sister says I am not capable of subtlety. She may be right.

So I have big news, but I'm kinda supposed to be subtle. At her request. Except, remember, I'm not capable of that. According to her.  I think she's right...

I'm supposed to write a random post about ME, then maybe casually, subtle-ly mention the other news. Or so she directed.  ...Knowing of course that I can't do that...

But let's try.

Random... about my life...

i have conquered Laundry Mountain by at least 70%.

i really wish lululemon gear was less expensive.

and OH YEAH! MY SISTER FINALLY STARTED HER OWN BLOG, Y'ALL!

There! I did it, LaLa! Just like you directed!

HolySister can be found at, where else? LaLa Land. wanna go welcome her to the blogosphere?

*prepare yourself so your system does not shock at the change of pace from here to there. In LaLa Land there is an abundance of large, multisyllabic words, correct pronunciation, and sgeneral smartness. I tend to throw all of that out the window, as you know, so get ready - you're in for a grammatically correct treat!

** UPDATED TO ADD: OH my GOSH! (yeah, i guess Caden-3yr gets it from me)  I managed to make it sound like HolySister asked me to plug her blog, which she didn't.  I bugged her until she agreed, and her way of agreeing was to direct me to be very subtle and casual and maybe just mention it at the end of a post instead of making a big deal of it. Yeah right.   Kinda glad she has a career that has kept her from seeing it yet.  Oops!  Now go say hi!

No, I didn't battle my laundry mountain. In fact, it's still growing in the closet. But I DID do something quite dangerous.

I went swimsuit shopping. ( Do y'all hate that as much as i do? )

WITH Caden-3yr and Seth-1yr in a double stroller too big to fit between department store swimsuit racks.

We went to the Dillard's restroom first, where Seth-1yr threw his sippie cup  -- with perfect aim --  into the toilet.

Yes. OF COURSE i had to get it out. Ew.

Made it out of there with cute swim attire and one less sippie cup.

If I weren't blogging right now, i'd be in the closet with about 19 loads of clean laundry and that is a scary, scary place. So i'm here with you out of total fear, I admit it.

Also. There are a surprising number of men who read here, and I have a question for you which you absolutely will probably not want to answer. It has to do with a car theory of mine, which is simply: It's not cool to check out another man's car if he is in it.

Mike has one of those trucks that is ridiculously captivating to other men. I like it too, and he lets me go 'mudding' in it:

(Here, Caden-3yr helpfully points out that I managed to lose a hubcap on my latest adventure)

Now. Here is my car. Just as gorgeous!  (Also great for mudding, but not as powerful as Mike's so I usually take his.)

This really isn't supposed to have anything to do with my penchant for skidding and flying through - or getting stuck in - mud, but they're the only car pictures I have. My point is that the cars are gorgeos and lovely and Mike's is... cooler I suppose.

But.

Whenever Mike drives his truck, life is normal. Whenever I drive Mike's truck, men behave like idiots. (And it has absolutely NOTHING to do with me, which I'll explain in a minute. I'm kinda cute on a good day, but that's it. I own the Mother of Four look.) 

When I drive my car, sunroof open and windows down (i LOVE that wind blowing, summer sun stuff), life is normal. All is well with men and women alike. I am minding my own business and life is good.

I CANNOT do that in Mike's truck without the following reaction from high school boys all the way up to older men: hoots, waves, honks, hollering (yes, hollering), proposals of marriage, they FOLLOW me, stare and just generally make big fools of themselves.  It's 100% Truck-Induced Male Insanity.

Again, it's not me. I'm just not so Babe-ish that men would become morons at the very sight of. I know, I know. There are some women like that, and i've NEVER been one and that's okay. No one gives me a second look when i'm in my car. And I like that!  I'm driving to the store and look! A carful of frat boys has NOT followed me across town! LOVE THAT! I like my life like that!

Ahh. But in MIke's truck all bets are off, and I am prepared to switch lanes, roll up windows and flash a wedding ring at a moment's notice. Not that it helps. Because it's really the truck they're after, even though some of them get so confused they start flirting outrageously with the woman with the stretch marks and Mother of Four attire that they'd NEVER notice in her own car.

When Mike drives his truck, he says he gets a few doubletakes, but that's all. 

SO.

WHY can the men of my town behave themselves when Mike is driving that truck and not when I am? 

I think it's not cool for them to look at another guy's truck that way. I have no other ideas or theories, and i'd love to hear any y'all have. 

*both cars have car seats   

* I don't know what they are exactly. Cadillacs of some sort.

I've been REALLY taking the easy way out on this blog thing. I mean, how simple is it to repeat just a few of the things Caden-3yr says around here? Way easy.   I'm just not feeling all that connected to my blog community, for reasons entirely on my end. (meaning, it's me, not you.  really.) And it's not just blog land. It's email. I'm not checking it really, in case you've emailed me lately.  And the phone? pfft.

Mike and I went to a couples therapist last month, as part of the ongoing intensive therapy we have to do  in order to cooperate fully with the residential treatment facility our daughter is in. That awkward sentence sums up very clearly how thrilled we were to go, can ya tell?  All of that to say that I found myself telling the therapist that yeah, i DO have social anxiety issues, but i like them and am not interested in him trying to 'fix' them. I know, I know. Some people  have great success taking  prescriptions for that and all and then they're happy. But  I'm embracing  it, as is.

And isn't that SO healthy?  If it were my butt, you'd agree. If I told you I had made total peace with an oversized backside and was NOT forcing it into the SPANX Higher Power Panty, wouldn't you be so proud?!  Of course.

(And no, i'm not SPANXING, by the way, but i just happen to know that it's quite effective, when absolutely necessary - like all the time right after having yet another sweet baby and clothes just. won't. fit.)

So. Anyway.  A few more easily repeated things heard around our house, since I am also fully embracing the easy way again:

Me: I have your credit card and I'm off to Victoria'sSecret.com  You can thank me later! 
Mike: total silence, either having not heard me at all since he was in the veeeeery back of his closet, waist deep in clothes he was sorting for donation - or, shock.  whatever. 

Caden-3yr: Oh MY gosh!   (now repeat, every five seconds, every single day. I wish it would stop!)

Caden-3yr: I CAN DO ANYTHING THROUGH CHRIST WHO STRENGTHENS ME!  (almost as often as Oh MY gosh!, and far more charming. always shouting, for some reason.)

Me: You're supposed to be in bed, what are you doing?
Caden-3yr: just watching tv
Me: No. You cannot watch that now, or... ever actually (somehow he has turned on MTV and there is much almost-nude gyrating going on.) Go to bed.
Caden-3y: (as he leaves) I CAN DO ANYTHING THROUGH CHRIST WHO STRENGTHENS ME!
He knows ONE scripture, and is totally misusing it for ill intent already. again, whatever.

Mike, speaking to one of our children: GET IN HERE YOUNG MAN! You are in Time Out! I saw the whole thing, from where you were riding Duke (the dog) like a horse, and then when you put Charlo (the cat) in the bucket! TIME OUT!

My mom, the last time I blogged and I sounded really, really chipper: Hi, CInderella, are the birds still singing? How are you doing on adjusting your antidepressant dosage, is it too high...? 

Mom, genuinely concerned and thoroughly hilarious, as only she can be.

This is a picture from about a month ago, when i went to see KIm-12yr. I like the picture, even though if you look closely you can see how awkward our embrace is. They're all like that, usually more so even than this one. She seems hesitant to hold on to me, and I clearly don't know where to look or how to sit or how to hold this child of mine. It's complicated even in this photographed moment. We'd just had a surprisingly good visit, but still don't want to be this close. I'm not ever comfortable around her, and i

know she would say the same of me.

She's been there almost a year, in another state, and is turning into Kim-13yr there. That bothers me so much, and I didn't expect it to at all. I do all sorts of things to make her birthday special (all sorts of things she never appreciated or made fun of or resented or hated me for doing.... but still! it was MY thing to try in futility to make her happy that day!) And now it isn't. And I'm not even a little bit relieved, and am completely surprised by that.

So much for the easy way of blogging. I didn't mean to get into all of that. And maybe it's all the butt talk from earlier, but i think this blog is making my butt look big. i could have Higher Powered that day if i'd known it would wind up here.

overheared at lunch today:

caden-3yr, reaching over to hold seth-1yr's hand, said, "I will give this to you."  His tone was solemn. They shared a serious nod. Then he dipped a cheeto in his macaroni and cheese and carefully offered it to his little brother.

Seth-1yr took the gift, kissed it sweetly, and ate it in one chomp.

Caden-3yr nodded in satisfaction that his little brother had properly received his offering, and then said, "no more for you. oh MY GOSH I am just not sharing. mine. all mine."