Saturday, August 6, 2011

Lamenting and Smurfing

So, the lamenting about the this and the that and the other thing over there has got to stop.  I have become a bore.  BUT - for the 3 of you who commented?  Wow!  Awesome, Long, Amazing comments.  And Mark - I know how hard it was for you to write so many words all at one time....and I even suspect you had read my entire post!  You guys were great.  Thanks for taking one for The Team!

I was going to write something all happy and inspirational - really I totally was - but then....just as our co-op meeting was starting, Camille came in saying she had fallen.  And I took one look at her and said, "What did you break?"  And she said, "Nothing. But I fell on my back."

I knew she had broken something.  She had that shocky look - big eyes - pale face - rubbery vibrating quality to her.  But obviously, it wasn't her back that was broken.  She was holding her wrist. 

I am not good with Broken Things.  If something breaks around the house I just want a new one....I am turned off completely by anything that dares to be broken.  Now if you add humans to the list of broken things I am more than turned off - I become downright disgusted, nauseous, and depending on whether or not there is blood involved - quite useless.  So it was with great trepidation that I looked at her wrist, and I had one foot halfway out the door when I did it.  That's right.  When things are Really Bad...I run.  My kids will tell you that they were often amazed when on the playground, kids would fall and get injured and their moms would run TOWARD them instead of AWAY.  If my kids really needed my assistance, they had to catch me first.  Stop bleeding and we'll talk! I'd yell.

The wrist didn't look bad.  There was no bone poking up through the skin, there was no bone sticking up almost but not quite through the skin, and nothing was bent the wrong way.  I relaxed.  But I knew it was broken - because we were literally covered in the broken bone fog - that feeling that something is not right and is, in fact, broken.  Do you feel that fog when something's wrong?  Maybe I'm just special.  Anyway - I was all Mature and Adult-Like in front of the other mamas....getting ice, settling her on my bed, etc.  I didn't rush her to the hospital right away because I really wanted to wait and see if maybe I was wrong - maybe in 30 minutes or so she'd be right back out there trying to get in the tree (that's how she fell).  After co-op, however, her wrist was swollen and she was still quite content to lie in my bed, which is very unusual for this kid.  Joel The Lifeguard looked at it and pronounced it sprained.  He asked if she needed a floatation device.

We had about 2 hours until we needed to leave for Ellie's Un-Graduation party.  Dang!  I threw her in the bus and we headed to the ER - where she was pronounced the happiest patient they'd had all day.  The idea that she had broken a bone (her first) was quite thrilling for her.  She's my little attention-hog.  We were seen quickly - it was deemed quite broken - and we see an orthopedist we keep on retainer on Monday.  (He's seen 3 of my kids in the past few months - remember Jules' broken hand that happened that weekend we tried to leave to celebrate our anniversary?  You know the weekend - the one where Ellie wrecked the car while we were gone trying to celebrate our anniversary?  Yeah - THAT WEEKEND.)

I'm sorry!  I'm still lamenting, aren't I?  You didn't come here for lamenting!  So here's some pics from Ellie's party.  It was a nice little group shot and then Jeff jumped in at the last minute.  He looks like an axe murderer who's about to start picking these kids off one by one.

These boys posed to show off their new aerodynamic looks. Between the 3 of them, I'm thinking they've recently cut over 20 inches of hair off.  Austen (middle) is missing his dreadlocks!!  They hardly recognized each other. And that's my Joel on the right - I TOLD YOU he cut his hair!!

And here's The Joels.

No pics of poor Camille - she was busy being propped up on pillows and pampered at my dad's house.  Jasper was at the party - no pics, though.  He never slowed down long enough.  But if you want to know what he looked like just imagine him drenched in sweat, covered in ice cream, and fueled up by All Natural Soda.  Got that image?  Good.

It was something like 104 when we arrived at The Cove, where we'd reserved the outdoor patio for the event.  We did that several months ago, when it was in the mere lower 90's or so...and it seemed like a good idea at the time.  Rick Perry has been praying for rain and it hasn't been working.  We've still got The Gays and a Middle Class, too.  So he's just not praying hard enough. 

That reminds me.  When we were in the ER, the doctor told Camille to put her hand on her chest like she was saying the Pledge of Allegiance.  And then he said, "Oh, that's right...they don't LET them do that in school anymore, do they?"

Now folks - I was tired.  I was cranky.  I was wondering if Jules last MRI had finally met our freaking deductible.  And so before I knew what I was doing, I had opened my mouth and said, "Did you hear that on Facebook?  Huh?  Because it's WRONG.  They not only still say the Pledge of Allegiance to the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands.....they ALSO say the Pledge of Allegiance to TEXAS and the Republicans for which IT stands."  I didn't actually say the Republicans for Which it stands...i mean...i said it right you...but not then because i didn't think of it until just now.

"Really?" he said.  "I didn't think they let them do that anymore."

Who the smurf is THEY?  I saw what was coming next....because you can't mention how they stopped the Pledge of Allegiance without going into how they won't let the kids pray in school.  So before I could stop myself, I had cut him off by saying, "And they follow all of the pledging up with a moment of silence.  So kids can PRAY if they want to."  Which most of them smurfing don't!!  I remember School Prayer.  At times, I LED School Prayer because I was on the student council or whatever.  It was a little written-down thingy that was read (badly) with no thought or emotion over the crackly intercom while 90% of the kids picked their noses....God is completely beside himself now that this tradition has been removed from public schools and replaced by a moment of reverent silence.  I mean, He's so mad about it he's apparently trying to kill us with a drought!!  But that's okay because Rick Perry and His Friends are Talking to God RIGHT NOW and trying to distance themselves from the sin and debauchery (not climate change) that has led to this punishment.  Like God is gonna fall for that!  But it's a Genius Plan because eventually - it's gonna rain - and then Perry can take the credit. 

Oh wow!  I didn't see that coming, did you?  I had no intention of talking about any of that at all.  It is just crazy how things come out when I blog.  Crazy, crazy, crazy.

Since I am obviously still lamenting instead of inspiring or informing, let me lament about how, despite Rick Perry's efforts to save us, we are all going to hell in a hand basket.  We really are.  How do I know this?  Because I saw the Smurf Movie.  You read my earlier post about how I was feeling all Lame-O, right?  This spurred me to travel to our small downtown theater with the little people and suffer through the Smurfs.  This particular movie caused all kinds of Special was really THAT in even worse than Mr. Popper's Penguins.  God, you don't have to punish us with a drought.  Really.  Mr. Popper's Penguins was enough!  Stop!  I'll stop coveting, else do I do on that list?  Oh yeah....I'll stop dishonoring my poor dad by writing a blog....I'll do just about ANYTHING if you could just stop allowing idiots to create children's movies!!  I'll even stop CURSING.  Oh!  Cursing!  That's where this was all going.  I knew it was going somewhere.

The Smurfs cursed.  A lot.  Not with Real Curse Words.  With SMURF.  And I found it unbelievably smurfing offensive.  I was like, What the smurf, Smurfs?  And then I was like,  REALLY? Did you really just say "Smurf yourself?" and "Kiss my smurf"?    I was completely stunned.  And let's face it kids, I curse like a sailor.  WHY DOES THIS BOTHER ME SO MUCH?  I mean, it really really really bothers me.  I've been known to substitute the word "freaking" for the word "fu*king" and I don't think I'm fooling anyone.  In fact, I'm sure I'm not.  When I clutch my shin and scream, "Why can't anyone in this freaking house close the freaking dishwasher door???"  I think it's pretty obvious what I'm Actually Saying. And I'm not defending myself.  But at least (here's where I defend myself) I don't use the word FREAK as a VERB.  As in, "Go freak yourself."  Or, "Freak it...I'm just gonna do what I want."  Or "Freak me."  Or "Freak you."  You know...there's just lines you don't cross when you Fake the F-Word.  Unless you're writing the script for a CHILDREN'S MOVIE using little tiny blue cutesie creatures.  OR, as I recently discovered, furry little high-pitched sounding cutesie creatures.  Wanna hear about the latest Chipmunk movie?  (I swear to God if you said yes to that you deserve to have God dry you up in a drought.)  Just go to  That's right!  Munk yourself!!  This verbiage is coming soon to a toddler's mouth year you.  "Munk you mama!"  Very cute.  Also?  For the record?  When I dropped my 16-year-old off at the pool where he works and he saw all the daycare vans parked in the lot and said, "Mother-smurfer?"  I was not amused.  And he hasn't even SEEN the Smurf movie.  There's a Winnie-the-Pooh movie out and nobody's telling anybody to go Pooh themselves.  You know why not?  Because Pooh's got class, that's why.  SOCIETY IS DOOMED.  Smurfing doomed, I tell you. 

I've worked myself up into a smurfing fit here.  I need to let off some steam.  Maybe I'll just go munk my husband. And yes, I know that was a tacky and offensive thing to say. That's my point!

I think my work here is done.
Signing off as the Smurfing Sardine Mama


  1. So how are things going with you lately?


    I didn't comment on your last post because (brace yourself) I did not know what to say.

    I still don't.

    Keeping you busy down there, huh?

  2. Well I just read this post (I really did, I commented on the other one before starting this one, so now you have to go back and read my lame comment, which I could have kept for myself, because, I did not really say anything useful, should have done like AMy and said nothing!).

    Good on you to lament and be all upset about important things and junk your husband now and then, I should do THAT more often.

    hug, jade

  3. I just laughed so hard at the end of this post that I snorted. Stuff might have flown out of my mouth. I can totally relate to substituting the real curse word for the fake one. And totally disliking most children's movies. Lament away, I say. Get it all out. We'll still be here when you're done.

  4. I'm so sorry to hear about the broken bone. Broken bones wig me out, too. The Smurfs stuff made me laugh. :)

  5. I have just laughed out loud at 4 different points in this post, all 4 times alarming my youngest with my guffaw.

    Yes, Jeff does look like an ax murderer.
    Yes, the gays and middle class are still here, although we in the middle class are just barely stuggling to hold on.
    Yes, you know Perry will take credit for rain. And by the way, I am really having a problem believing he is so religious. Really, when did this happen? I think he is PLAYING a great role, and the religious folks here in the great state of Texas are falling for it.
    And yes, that last line, well that will put an even bigger grin on Papa Sardine.
    Thanks for the laugh, and for sharing the pics.
    PS, this yankee is too lazy to sign in.

  6. Having avoided Mr Popper's Penguins because that in itself sounded like a pedophile's lure...and having succeeded in dodging the Smurf bullet all these years -- I mean really...why are they back -- they scare me. You are right -- completely inappropriate. Some poor kid will get smacked when he says kiss my Smurf. And I, too...let curse words fly... Pooh Bear, still holy...we just went and saw Pooh, dad, and three teenagers... it's our church... And nobody "poohed" anyone else or themselves -- at least not in my row!! As far as prayers in favorite is the one before sports events. You know, the one where instead of God taking care of starving children, or trying to decide if a drought is a good idea, the kids are hoping that he's really focused on what's important -- helping them kick the other teams butts...