Blush & Cringe-Nearly Took Out Driver's Ed Instructor

Oh man...if my niece "Gidge" reads this, she is SO not gonna let me live this down. She forgot her learner's permit and she had one hour until she had to be back to the school for her driver's ed class which is, as you know held in a car most of the time.

So we pull up with like thirty seconds to spare and she points out her driver's ed instructor who I suddenly realize looked strikingly similar to the man I'd nearly ran over last week leaving the parking lot. The one who not quite but nearly had to dive for cover and my car careened and bumped across potholes toward him.

Well! He was in my blind spot and I accidentally peeled out because of the gravel. Then I started laughing today and almost backed into the gym because I was backing out of a narrow alley type thing, trying not to run over pot holes because I didn't want to get my new car (new for me since my wreck) dirty.

Well, I almost scraped paint off my new car in a concentrated effort to stay out of mud holes.

And my niece was oblivious the whole time. LOL!

The instructor wasn't however. I'm pretty sure he will be giving my niece a few driving pointers to pass along to me.

But, to my credit, I DID use my blinker because I knew he might be watching.

Wrong blinker since I was backing out. But hey...at least I used my blinker.



Menace to society,

Cheryl Wyatt

Blush & Cringe-Naked Ladies in My Yard

Well, it appears that I caused quite a stir on Facebook yesterday. I had Twittered about the Spring flowers popping up all over my yard. Only, I guess some people don't realize that a certain kind of lily is also referred to as a "Naked Lady."

I have my Twitters feed directly into my Facebook account. And the problem with that is on Twitter, you only have 140 characters in which to say what you want. Uh...that's about 1 sentence, maybe two if you're succinct.

So anyway, because I only had so many characters to mention the flowers, I didn't go into great detail.

I typed something to the effect of, "I have a ton of Naked Ladies coming up in my yard! I am so glad to see signs of Spring." Or something similar.

Well apparently most people have never heard of Naked Ladies---the flower.

So you could only imagine the slew of responses I got from people. Some asking me to clarify (women), and others asking for the precise address (men) and others (avid garneners) sending links to the FLOWER I was referring to because they could see that I was drowning in the siege of a huge (but hilarious) misunderstanding.

Sigh....I have GOT to remember the REAL SCIENTIFIC name of these flowers from now on...which is Amaryllis belladona...

Although that name's not quite as fun as Naked Ladies....LOLOLOL!

Sigh.

Blonde,

Cheryl

Blush & Cringe- Editorial Assassins?

I was at a NASCAR race recently. It was during a race that an e-mail came in from one of my editors. Since there was a race going on, I couldn't use my phone to call her because the track officials jam the signals so that spotters can talk to drivers during a race.

Anyway, my e-mail wouldn't tap in on my laptop. So I was trying to type a message with my BlackBerry which is the only thing that gets a signal during a race. And we're at the races A LOT.

Anyway, I had the autocorrect function turned on with the BlackBerry and didn't realize until after I sent the message to my editor that I had mispelled "Assistant" in a cover letter. So the autocorrect changed it, unbenownst to me...until I reread the "sent" version.

I was HORRIFIED to notice that what I typed said:

Editor's Name
"Editorial Assassin"
Publishing House

Assassin?

I couldn't have been more mortified.

I really think I have a form of dyslexia that won't allow me to see typos until after they are mailed or e-mailed.

Sigh.

Thankfully, the editor has a great sense of humor and laughed off the mistake. Althouth she does very nicely kill off my unnecessary words...I don't quite think she deserved to be called an assassin.

LOL!

Cheryl Wyatt

Funny Typo Day

Okay so it's not an official holiday...except in Seekerville.

But, humor me okay? LOL!

I'm guestblogging in Seekerville today.

Zip on over to hear (and contribute to) a list of funny typos I've done and read lately. Come on y'all...don't let me be embarrassed alone.


Thanks all!

Cheryl Wyatt

BLUSH & CRINGE--Batteries and Band-Aids

I had surgery Tuesday to remove the pins from my right foot. I had general anesthesia during and pain meds afterward. I also had to have Benadryl and Narcan because of an allergic reaction. So between all those drugs, I was pretty groggy and loopy when I came out of surgery.

On the way home, I was still groggy since it was a same-day surgery.

My poor husband had to listen to me ARGUE all the way home over something so stupid. I basically kept insisting that he had to run through the pharmacy drive through and pick up the batteries for my foot.

The convo (which went on for around twelve miles) went something like this...only longer as I argued the point.

"Don't forget the batteries when you fill my subscription."
"You mean prescription?"
"Yes, yes. My pain med prescription and the batteries."
"Batteries?"
"Yes."
"For what?"
"The doctor said I need them for my foot."
"Huh?"
"So don't forget them. The big ones."
"Big what?"
"Batteries. For my foot. I need the batteries for my foot."
"You're not making sense."
"Yes, I'm telling you he said I need batteries for my foot."
Husband gives a strange look. "Why batteries?"
"Because!"
"Batteries? Like, what size?"
"Yes. Big ones. The big kind with no Latex."
"Batteries? Go back to sleep."
"No. You'll forget the batteries."
"You don't need batteries. I never heard him mention batteries and you're not making sense."
"Yes! Yes, the doctor said I have to have batteries in my foot after five days."
Husband laughs. "No. He said you have to have Band-aids after five days."

Oh....the joy of anesthesia.

Cheryl Wyatt-embarrassed but laughing

POPCORN BLUSH AND CRINGE

My hubby and I went on a date a few Saturday nights prior to my wreck in April. We normally go out to eat first then watch a movie, but we were running behind so we decided to hit the movies first.

I was so immersed in polishing my ms in prep to send it off that I forgot to eat that day. I'm serious...not until I got low-bloodsugar-shaky did I realize I hadn't eaten and here it was 4:30pm. So I munched on a raw turnip and had a few nibbles of a Pecan Spinwheel with a cup of coffee. Bad move. Not used to the sugar, eating the sweet roll WITH A TURNIP on a virtually empty stomach made me nauseaus...so I didn't eat anything else.

By the time we got to the theatre, it was nearly seven-thirty and I was HUNGRY. I saw the daughter of a couple we're friends with and went across the lobby to chat with her.

Then I rejoined my husband at the concession stand. He was at the register, so I assumed the tub of popcorn and soda sitting there was ours.

He. He. He.

I reach over, scoop a handful and toss it in my mouth then reach for the soda.

"Nuh-uh."

I turn around...and a woman with her two children (who are giving me REALLY disgusted looks) snatch the sodas....and yes...the tub of popcorn and walk off.

Whoops. They'd just come up to get a refill. And I'd taken liberty to just plow my hands into their popcorn and eat it like it's completely normal for people to eat other people's food without their permission.

Ya know...I'm REALLY glad I didn't reach for that soda first. Yuck.

Did my husband comfort me in my scorn?

Nope. He stood there, dying laughing. And so did the register clerk.

But then dear hubby bought me my very own tub of popcorn...so it's all good.

Cheryl "Popcorn-thief" Wyatt

THE FUGITIVE RETURNS

Okay, a good friend of mine accidentally reminded me that I never finished the fugitive post.

 

Well, here's what happened:

 

I was driving home from my grandmother's house late at night with my three kids in the car with me. They were in meltdown mode because of the late hour. They started screaming the instant I pulled out of my grandmother's driveway, and didn't stop until I pulled into my driveway about 20 minutes later.

 

Well, halfway through the trip, I turned my radio up kind of loud because I already had a migraine, and somehow, listening to loud rock wasn't as hard on my headache as three screeching kids right behind my ears. The music helped some, but not a lot, so I kept asking them to please stop screaming. They would NOT and because of the two lane road and late hour I didn't feel I should pull over. So I just drove through the screams, and tried to tune them out. One of the children screamed at me to turn the music down because it was loud and hurting their head. Well, wanting to use this as a teaching opportunity, I (in my stubbornness of not liking to be told what to do, especially at high volume) said, "No. Since you didn't listen to me when I asked you for the last two hundred times to please be quiet so I can concentrate on driving, then no. I am not listening to you and turning down the radio."

 

Wellll, the screaming got louder so I put one finger in my ear and started the, "La-da-da-da-da=I-can't-hearrrr-youuuuu----" thing. Ever done that?

 

Liars.

 

Anyway, so car full of children screaming, I'm wanting to get home, I have my pointer finger jabbed into my middle ear, and I'm HUMMING louder than the pretty loud radio.

 

And apparently didn't realize my speed, nor that the police officer in our town had been following me from the edge of town doing well more than 20 over.

 

EEEK.

 

 

So we pull in the driveway and I STILL have no idea about the officer until EVERYTHING in the car got pindrop quiet.

 

One child goes, "Um....moo-oomy? Are you goin to jail?"

 

I'm like, "Jail? What?" Then I see red strobes in my sideview mirror....and the not so happy town officer stalking to my car.

 

"YOU!" he said. "That was YOU back there? I clocked you going 65 in a 30. What in tarnation is going on?" Then he leans in the window, looks back to where two of the three are STILL screeching their lungs up. He raps his knuckles on the window and says, "Never mind. I think I know. Just slow down and be safe."

 

HOW EMBARRASSING. He was really nice, but ALL my neighbors saw him pull me over....IN MY DRIVEWAY.

 

The funniest part of all this is the day before this, I had just gone on a major rant to my husband for going like ten miles over the speed limit...I even said I was going to start praying God makes him get pulled over if he doesn't stop his incessant speeding. ROFL!

 

Hm....I'm wondering just whose side God's on anyway. Humpth!

 

All kidding aside, It IS scarey to me that I had NO idea I was going that fast. NO idea a police car (WITH FULL LIGHTS AND SIRENS ON!) followed me for MILES and I didn't know it until my child asked me in a fearful voice  if I was going to jail.

 

Oh, and apparently, said child didn't believe ME because she then asked the cop, "Hey, you takin' her to jail?"

 

So that's my fugitive moment.

 

I've obeyed the speed limits since. Honest.

 

Squirrel

BLUSH AND CRINGE

For those of you who aren't familiar with what a "Blush and Cringe" is....it's something I started on my blog eons ago, at its inception really, where I admit something really embarrassing to me which usually (hopefully) makes it really funny to you.

I am constantly having goof moments, so I could honestly write a Blush and Cringe every day, or even by the hour but who has time for that? LOL!

Anyway, here's the latest Blush and Cringe:

I was in the midst of a long distance phone conversation with a good friend who lives in another state. She didn't realize we'd gotten our children guinea pigs for pets. So we start having this conversation that I now refer to as a "Three's Company Convo" (Remember that old show? Three women and John Ritter? And how much of the humor there was based on misunderstanding, or on misunderstood or misheard conversation?) Anyway, this was one of those conversations. I KNEW I was talking about my guinea pigs, but my friend THOUGHT I was referring to my children when the conversation started like this:

Kelly: "What's that weird noise?"
Me: "They're squeaking for food AGAIN!" (thinking she meant the guinea pigs, which she didn't know we had.)
Kelly: "Uh, it's eleven at night."
Me: "I know. They squeak and screech every time the refrigerator cooler door gets opened."
Kelly: "It sounds so weird though." (Thinking the "They" I mentioned earlier meant my children.)
Me: "Hang on. I'll go get them some corn husks."
Kelly: Silence, then: "corn HUSKS?"
Me: "Yeah. It's good for their teeth, otherwise they get too big."
Kelly: "uh...."

Me: "Hang on. I have to open the cage door."

Kelly: "Cage? YOU HAVE THEM IN A CAGE?"

Me: "Yeah, otherwise they'll run all over the house pooping and peeing everywhere and chewing on stuff. That's why they keep sqawking, because they're trying to chew their way out."

Kelly: "Okay, now I KNOW you're not talking about your kids."

Me: I just die laughing, and when I am ABLE to speak again, I clear things up. No, I do not keep my children in cages and feed them corn husks.

And come one, anyone who knows me, knows how much I love my kids. I feed them every Thursday in fact.

Snicker.

Squirrel

--
Cheryl Wyatt Gal. 2:20 Pouring my vial of words over Him.

www.CherylWyatt.com http://www.Scrollsquirrel.blogspot.com

A SOLDIER'S PROMISE~ Steeple Hill Love Inspired~ Jan. 2008
A SOLDIER'S FAMILY~ Steeple Hill Love Inspired~ Mar. 2008

www.Steeplehill.com www.Loveinspiredauthors.com

BLUSH & CRINGE-SQUIRREL...The Fugitive

I'm so embarrassed I cannot even post ALL the details yet, but suffice it to say I was pulled over IN MY DRIVEWAY for going 62 MPH.

Don't ask. Please, just....don't...ask. LOLOL!

I'll give up the rest of the story after I've recovered from the trauma of neighborhood humiliation and relentless razzing from my husband, and distress only mortification can bring.

Fugitive-running from the law---only she didn't realize it until miles later.....Squirrel

--
Cheryl Wyatt Gal. 2:20 Pouring my vial of words over Him.

www.CherylWyatt.com www.Scrollsquirrel.blogspot.com

A SOLDIER'S PROMISE~ Steeple Hill Love Inspired~ Jan. 2008
A SOLDIER'S FAMILY~ Steeple Hill Love Inspired~ Mar. 2008

www.Steeplehill.com www.Loveinspiredauthors.com

MY DUFUS MOMENT

Okay, or call it a blonde moment or whatever but I was cutting tons from my ms for revisions and the word count kept RISING instead of falling. ROFL! Finally figured out it was because I had Track Changes on and the word count thing was reading ALL of it...even the parts I'd cut out. I thought I had to cut like 7000 words because my word count had swooned up to nearly 70000....

So when I accepted all the track changes in a copied document.....my word count dropped to 61000! ROFL!

I was freaking out because I was like WHERE are these words coming from!!!!!??? I kept cutting ENTIRE scenes...even half a chapter...and the word count STILL went up. LOLOL! I was starting to freak out a little bit there.

Sigh.

Those of you following my PLOTSTORM THREAD....please stay tuned. I had to change gears from writing book three (our plotstorm book) when I sold book 2. Since book two will release in March of 2008 (YIPEE!!!) things will move faster as far as things I have to turn in to my editors. So I promise we'll get back to the PLOTSTORM by April.

THANK YOU FOR FAITHFULLY SUPPORING MY BLOG WITH YOUR READERSHIP!

It's important to me to personally respond to every comment, but sometimes I can't track your email addresses. So if you've left a comment and haven't heard from me...don't be shy, leave your email address so I can comment back. Just be sure to leave spaces before and after the @ sign or something so internet spiders can't scoop up your addy and spam you.

If you've taken time to come to my blog, I'd like to take the time to personally thank you.

You all are important to me and I appreciate you. If you're lurking, come out and play with us! :-)

Blessings,

Squirrel

BLUSH AND CRINGE

Okay,

I haven't posted one of these in a long time but my face is STILL heated with this one.

My husband recently set up a new email account and wanted me to send him an email to check it.

Well, silly me, I sent him one....

Only it was fairly racy if you know what I mean.

I called and asked him if he got it.

No.

SO in a panic I go back to my "Sent" folder......not only had I NOT used his name in the opening, I EMAILED IT TO MY KIDS' CHRISTIAN SCHOOL OFFICE!!!!

Can my mortification get any worse than that?

Sigh.

Squirrel-at it again.

LOITERING HIPPY

My mother's helper confessed something to me this week that cracked me up. When she first came to interview for the job of our babysitter, she said she pulled up and became concerned. It seemed there was a hippie guy standing in our driveway. She thought it was terrible that a hippie guy was loitering with a baby in his arms in our driveway.

Turns out, she comes in to meet my family...and Hippie guy was my hubby. ROFL!

Here's my Hippie.

Neighborhood Fiasco

We had some excitement in the neighborhood last night. About thirty police cars from several counties surrounded our block 2/3 of the way. Apparently there was a high-speed pursuit for many, many miles which ended in front of our neighbor's house. You can't tell by the picture but there is a black car surrounded by police cars. The local police officer put his car sideways in the road, stopping the car. The two guys jumped out and fled on foot. They caught one right near the alley beside our home and dragged him across our yard in handcuffs. The other was apprehended less than a mile away. I've never seen so many police cars in one place. Our house was literally strobing blue from all the lights and it's not often that you have cops running through your yard with shotguns. LOL!

Squirrel

UGH...BUG...

My children often come up to me with bright eyes and grinning faces and say, "Close your eyes and open your mouth, Mom! We have a surprise for you!"

So I do as told because they usually set a cheese and peanut butter cracker or a candy kiss, or something really yummy in my mouth. Often I do this little game with them, too, where I'm the one putting the treat in their mouth.

Sometimes the game turns silly.

For example, as I sit awaiting my "treat" with closed eyes and open mouth, I'll often pop my eyes open when I sense them getting near with my treat and say, "Wait, you're not getting ready to feed me a bug, are ya?"

Boisterous giggles follow. This goes on and on as their hands get close to my mouth, until finally I let them stick whatever they have in my open mouth. Of course I bide by the rules and keep my eyes shut.

Especially today, when my toddler tells me, "Close your eyes and open your mouth, Mama! Gotta special treat for ya!"

I proceed to do as asked, and lo and behold I feel something really gross and prickly touch my tongue. My eyes fly open, my hand flies up to my mouth where I've spat.....

something that I think must have been a cricket.

Sigh.

The joys of motherhood....and I wouldn't trade these moments for anything.

The cricket on the other hand...I'd definitely trade for a cracker.

Squirrel

SISTAHOOD OF THE SAGGING SHELVES

Okay, there's a discussion going on at the Steeple Hill message boards www.SteepleHill.com about writers and readers who have book addictions. We're lamenting over there about how there are SOO many books and not enough shelf space.

So I'd like to know, when you run out of shelf space, what place or space do you create for you books? I'm thinking a hardback coffee table is in order here. LOL!

And here's the sad thing..I've loaned away/given away probably a thousand books in the past two years. Here are my keeper shelves which are creaking and groaning in protest because the shelves are three books deep...meaning the books you see in front? Um, yeah, there are one or two rows behind them. And I have sterilite containers of books like you see pictured below under my pool table.

Just for fun! Enjoy!

Squirrel

DISASTER! IN! THE!.....SHOE AISLE?

I was a mite grumpy yesterday so dh (dear husband on most days) took me shoe shopping this evening. So here we are zooming all over the store in a scooter and I have two of my three kids on my lap. I do not weight 200 pounds. The guy SAID it was fully charged and new and raring and ready to go.

Right.

My kids all three together don't weigh over 75 pounds. I'm well under 200, but well over 100...let's just leave it at that.

THE THING BROKE AT THE FARTHEST POINT AWAY FROM THE SCOOTER DOCK. So here I am stuck. Dh rode another to me and we switched. So he takes two kids to let them pick out a sticker book and the oldest stays with me to help. So she's on my lap and we're racing around a corner and I'm enjoying this exhilerating ride and so is she because she's yelling, "Faster Mommy! Faster!"

I'm pushing it to the max at this point, and then it happened.

I spotted the perfect pair of shoes.

I veered right...down that aisle. The scootermagig apparently doesn't turn on a dime. It apparently doesn't turn on a spot the size of a compact car because we careened into the shoes. The scooter kept going because the handlebar got stuck beneath the shelving...then I hear this monstrous creaking and the sound of metal and then a series of rapid fire thudding and clanking and clinking. We finally come to a stop beneath a thundershower of shoes. My daughter runs for cover and I turn around to survey the aftermath.

Shoes....everywhere. Shelving....everywhere. Those little metal prongs that were holding the fifty or so pair of house slippers.....everywhere.

So my daughter runs to her dad because she's mortified with embarrassment because now there are people....everywhere. And I'm stuck in the mess only I can't escape the mortification because my dh(in this instance Dratted Husband) has my walker in his cart across the store where my daughter fled as he passed by waiting for her. Of course he couldn't come help me because all three kids suddenly had to use the restroom. Stickers must have a diuretic capability to them or something.

Here I am picking up the shoes with the reacher thingy which took a solid 20 minutes. At least I didn't race another scooter shopper down the aisle like the other day when I discovered my mother and father in fact DID know I used to drag race my Iroc z and my Firebird behind the high school. But hey, when someone pulls up beside you in the suppository aisle..and says in a low voice, "Wanna race?" and revvs their scooter....battery. Do those things even have engines? I mean, WHO could resist?

Oh Lord God in Heaven, PLEASE give my children more sense than I had as a teen. Now I know what I put my parents through. Lord help me, and grant them blessings beyond measure for letting me live past my teen years.

Squirrel

Earthquake!

Did I get your attention? Tee hee. Actually it may not have measured on the National Richter scale but for the past three years an earthquake has cast tremors all over my life, shaking everything, and I mean EVERYTHING. . .except my faith.

I realized that the other day.

The earthquake? Chronic pain. I don't mean the kind of pain that's akin to a fly dive bombing your plate at a picnic either. I'm talking EXCRUCIATING pain. 9.5 on a scale of 1-10 kind of pain, with ten being the worst pain you could imagine. Childbirth was a cinch compared to this pain.

Feel sorry for me yet?

Okay then let me go on. . .see if I can evoke some more sympathy. LOL! Since January of 2004 there has not been ONE SINGLE SOLITARY NANOSECOND where I have not been in physical pain. Debilitating pain that has affected my sleep and altered my usually bubbly personality.

I turned into a whiney, moaney, witch with a capital B right before my husband's eyes. And though there were times I saw him eyeing the shovel and the basement and I knew he was thinking how long it would take authorities to find my body while he zipped off to Jaimaca with my life insurance money, he's been so faithful and kind. Most days. But yet, even my marriage has been shaken. We were a couple who laughed ourselves silly every day. Now scowling and strife defined our marriage up until recently when they realized the cause of my pain wasn't the nerve damage they'd originally thought but a hip dysplasia with an injury that occurred during delivery where my hip was dislocated and my labrum tore. Read: : Labrum. NOT labia. LOL. I do get some amusement seeing peoples faces twitch with the word because most have never heard it and probably think I'm mispeaking. Anyway, I digress, when they realized what the actual unjury was and started giving me REAL pain meds....ahh...for a few months my husband got his wife back and my daughters actually got to know me as I really am.

I'm not sure what my point is to this blog except to say that sometimes it's okay to be shaken. I thank God that He's grounded my faith so that was never affected by the tremors. So now I've had surgery to correct this problem and thank God that it was something they could fix.

So a few weeks post op I show up at church with my walker. I was astounded at the people who swarmed me, mouths agape. "What happened to you?" or "I didn't realize it was THAT bad!"

Yeah. Well, I did. And so did God. I'm pretty private with my pain, and I have an incredibly high pain tolerance. If I say I'm hurting, I'm near death. Seriously. It's the stubborn streak that runs through our family that teaches us to be tough.

But that's not God's way. And I've learned through this that it is much easier to give than to receive. It's HARD to admit we need help. Harder even to admit this has taken a toll on our family.. .our relationship as a couple. BUT, once people know they can pray for you and defeat any place where the enemy would seek to kill, steal and destroy your life or marriage or whatever his target of the time is.

Don't hang tough. Don't hide your pain. Tell SOMEONE you trust. Ask God to send you someone to talk to who will listen more than talk. Who will press in and pray for you and not stop until it's over. Someone who will praise God ahead of time for the victory. Someone who will love you as Jesus loves you and always point you to Him.

Maybe someone out there is struggling with chronic pain. It may not even be physical. Maybe you're struggling with depression. God acknowledges there is such a thing in psalms. Did you know that? He says, "I comfort the depressed." He doesn't send a priest. He doesn't send a pastor. He comes Himself to comfort you. He doesn't condemn you for your pain. His heart is full of mercy and compassion beyone what you are capable of comprehending and He loves you more than you or I could imagine. And believe me, I have a grand imagination.

Just know today that maybe no one knows how deep the pain runs or how far, or how long or how bad it hurts. It's okay. God knows. And He cares.

Blessed be the name of the Lord for His lovingkindness endures forever.

I hate crying in front of people but last night at Discipleship Community God busted me. Someone came up to ask me how I was feeling and you know how bad I wanted to say, "I'm feeling great!"

God whispered, "Why would you lie when they truly want to know?" Gulp. Okay, God.

So I said, "Actually, I'm feeling horrible."

So what happened? I cried my eyes out and a bunch of people prayed for me and though the pain wasn't less than it was when I came there, I knew even more that those people love me.

Something good will always come out of something bad when you trust God with it.

Praying for anyone out there today who's hurting.

He sees. He knows. He cares. Ask Him to show you how much in a tangible way. TELL SOMEONE! Let someone help you. Get prayer! Don't make the mistake I did. My marriage is stronger than it has been in a couple of years, but I know that's because I finally admitted our struggles to a close friends. Well. I Guess I just admitted it to the world but I really think if we as CHristians don't share our struggles we'll scare others away because we become unnapproachable.

I never want to be that.

I want to be there for my friends as they've been there for me.

Go get alone with God and let Him love on you. Just wait for Him. Be still. Be quiet. Ask Him to reveal Himself to you in an eternally lifechanging way.

Have a blessed day.

Squirrel

Confessions of a Potty Mouth Momma

Okay, so I'm just gonna say right off the bat that I acknowledge that I may be the only Christian mom out there who slipped up and said a cuss word in front of her kid. Snicker. A blog is a place where we can be real, right?

Kid number two took number three in the bathroom and locked the door. Prior to doing this, the heatherrrrrr I mean the munchkins took the tiny screwdriver out of the crack I keep it in up near the left hand side of the door frame. That screwdriver is how I unlocked the bathroom when it advertantly got locked for some reason.

So anyway, moving onward.....

I hear them in there rattling around in the medicine cabinet. I have a childproof mechanism on it but I can tell they're trying to push it in and get the door open. Panic sets in as I think of all the meds I have in there so I start knocking on the door. "Unlock the door now. Right now. RIGHT NOW! One. Two. . .if I have to say threee. . . ."

Nothing. I rattle the knob violently. "Let me in right now! No TV time. Do you hear me?" I flat hand my palm on the wood.

Profuse snickering.

Two minutes later I'm still counting to three and have counted to three enough times to hit 300. My heart is in my throat and I'm ready to splinter wood with my foot in about thirty seconds. From inside comes giggling and the ominous sound of the medicine cabinet creaking ALL the way open, AND then the sound of pills rattling around those plastic medicine containers.

You know the ones. The ones that my kids can open faster than I can though they're supposed to be childproof. Yeah.

So now I'm FUMING and scared. Being a nurse I'm terrified of them ODing on my stool softeners or something worse.

So I fist my hand and BANG-BANG! BANG. BANG. BANG! on the door in perfect time with this:

"OPEN! THE. DAMN. DOOR!"

Silence.

More silence. Then, "Uh. Oh. I tink mom's mad."

Yah think?

Click.

Four wide eyes are staring at me then my fist then my chest at which point I realize I'm heaving. I loosen my mouth because it hurts from clenching the teeth together. Think I probably lost a layer of enamel on that one.

So after explaining for the UMPTEENTH time why the med cabinet is OFF LIMITS and whoever gets in it may lose a hand...(Just kidding all you Child and Family Service people...honest) I think maybe they didn't think anything about the "D" word. . .even though my dh is staring me down with The Look. You know...the one where I know he's thinking, "Aw. Huh. And now they have one more word added to their vocabulary," kind of look.

"They'll forget about it by sunset," I told him. "Don't sweat it."

No matter that I kept them out of school the next day AND church two days after JUST to make sure.

So Tuesday of two weeks later rolls around and I'm going down the hall to get the toddler so we can go pick up her siblings from Christian school. Note: CHRISTIAN school.

Traitor baby is standing at her door. . .banging away. . .saying some such gibberish that sounds strikingly like, "Opie! Duh! Dam! Dam! Dam!"

Okay first off I never said it three times. So now guess what her favorite word is? Yah. At the grocery store. Sliding glass doors. "Opie dam door daddy." In front of the entire Wal-Mart. And he's giving me The Look again.

So back to Tuesday. . .blush. Cringe. BOTH of my daughters got a note. Well one got a note in her folder and the other lost a kangaroo out of her pocket because . . .yeah you guessed it. . .

They taught the class the NEW word. Only one of them actually demonstrated it though so it could have been worse right?
Yeah at church. . .now all of the jungle room kids know the "D" word thanks to me.

Sigh.

Baaaa-aaaad Mommy. The ONE time. . .okay okay, the *Maybe* fifth time I've said that word since I've been a Christian. . .and the ONE time I say it in front of my kids and it comes back to bite me in the da** butt.

Squirrel

HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO

Hello y'all!

Back from surgery. Major hip reconstruction. Everything went well. I'm getting all buff and stuff from carrying myself around on a walker. Going up stairs is rather interesting though. You have to hop backwards...which doesn't sound too dangerous except for the fact that the walker is two feet wide and the steps are only one foot wide. Hopefully I won't fall and break my non-surgical hip.

WRITING UPDATES
Mailed off revisions the Sunday before Monday surgery. . .which would have been July 31st. I emailed it to my agent and she snail mailed it to the editor who did email to say she got it, and was looking forward to reading it. So I could hear any day.

I haven't been entering contests as of late. I'm plotting my next novel and enjoying that. I LOVE the title. For now I'll call it TGTN. I'll tell you what it is when I send it to an editor. I'm getting to know the characters and their issues. I'm having a couple plot issues with it, but for now, I'm trying to sort out scenes so I can dive in and get the rough draft done. So that's what I'm working on now.

I plan to attend the ACFW conference, and I think I may even have a sequined skirt in the mix for my walker. LOLOL!

Thanks for all your prayers and support prior to my surgery, and during this time of recovery.

God is faithful. He brought me through, and I'm really awed by the peace He gave during the entire process. Day by day He's getting me through the pain and frustration of immobility.

Blessings,

Squirrel

MOUSE IN THE HUMMER!!!!

MOUSE IN THE HUMMER!!!!

JUST KIDDING! HA HA HA. Okay, well it was funny to me. This image came from this website: http://www.173rdairborne.com/iraq12.htm
page 5 Image 91 (Photo by Pfc. Brandon Aird, 173rd Public Affairs)

Lots of cool photos there that you can peruse to see what our servicemen and women do while away. I use most of these pictures to remind myself to pray for them, their safety, their missions, and for their loved ones back home.

Revisions for OMINOUS CODE (which I've tentatively renamed TANDEM HEARTS or HOME ON HAVEN STREET for my working title) are coming along nicely. The story is going to be much more romance focused than action-adventure focused. So I don't get to have them chasing down computer hackers with very cool high powered machine guns...but that subplot was cheezy anyway. Maybe I will toss in a paintball game between Amber and Joel and Bradley. That would be cool I think, and fun. Plus it would get the shooting out of my system. LOL! Yeah! I think I will add that now that I think about it. Hey! Maybe that could be one of their dates.

Have any of you been shot at close range with one of those things? OUCH! I mean they HURT! Not as bad as when my sister shot me in the caboose with my Daisey Pellet gun when we were little and living in the desert of New Mexico. It's not like there are many trees to hide behind. It's wide open desert, and sorry, but cactus doesn't provide much cover when pellets and BB's hail.

Living in the Midwest provides more places to hide. Tons of trees. Our back fence looks white because of all the paintgun splotches my husband and daughters have shot there. What a fun way to paint though, huh? Although my neighbors may think I've gone over the edge if I stand out there shooting the porch rail hundreds of times.....

Okay, I'm off to write that scene....

Later!

Squirrel