Naps

I miss the days when it was socially appropriate to take a nap whenever and wherever you felt like it.

*****
Where is the craziest place you or your child has fallen asleep?

It's Time to VOTE!!!

Here comes Ms. Crohn’s Disease AKA Becky AKA Miss Congeniality.

Ms. Crohn's Disease, who suffers from medication-related mood swings, bares teeth at announcer and growls.

Announcer: We are nearing the end of the competition and it is now time for the contestants to answer questions from the judges.

Judge 1: "What are the physical benefits of your disease?"

Ms. Crohn's Disease: "That's easy! I get to eat all the unhealthy crap that I want and I will still stay skinny because my body won't absorb it anyway! Now don't get me wrong! My weight does fluctuate drastically at times, so I get to have several wardrobes of clothing! It comes in three sizes: normal, flare-up, and Prednisone! Oh! And did you notice my skin? One of the side effects of one of my medications (don't ask me which one!!!) causes me to break out in hives if I spend too much time out in the sun. That--coupled with the fact that I am always anemic and have super pale skin--makes people suspect that I am a....

(but not a hot one)

Judge 2: "That is all wonderful to hear! Now tell us about the mental benefits of Crohn's Disease!"

Ms. Crohn's Disease: "Speaking of Predinose, that is one amazing drug! Because I can never sleep, my house is spotless and DON'T YOU DARE MESS IT UP!!!!!!! Oops! Sorry about my mood swings-it goes with the territory! I would like to say a special thanks to my hubby and kids for dealing with me on steroids...LOVE YOU!

Judge 3: "And the social benefits?"

Ms. Crohn's Disease sighs: "There are just too many to count. If I had to pick just one it would be the number of friends I've met at the pharmacy. I'm on 11 different meds so I'm always there!!! I also want to give a big shout out to all of the store owners who let me use their private bathrooms after I flush my self-esteem down the toilet (pun intended) by crying and jumping up and down and telling them that I can't make home without visiting the porcelain goddess!! Double LOVE YA!"

Judge 2: "Finally, what makes Crohn's Disease the sexiest autoimmune disease on the planet?"

Ms. Crohn's Disease holds up the following picture:

Ms. Crohn's Disease: "I rest my case."

***Sorry about the delay in getting our next contestant to the floor... I was experiencing some technical difficulties with my computer yesterday.******


Our next contender for the title of Ms. Chronic Disease of America is none other than

Ms. Lupus!!!!!

[today’s post was written by Ms. Lupus AKA Aimee]

Welcome Everyone to the Ms. Chronic Disease of America E-pageant - I'm Shelly, and I'm Bob and we are here to celebrate the women of Chronic Disease!

Bob: Welcome everyone, Ms. Lupus! (Everyone cheers, I walk out doing a half-a-wave because my right wrist is beginning to fuse from swelling and joint tissue damage.)

Shelly: Ms. Lupus has suffered from her autoimmune disease for approximately (wait let me add it up, the brain fog makes it hard to do simple math 33-19=14, no,yes) fourteen years. Aimee was finally correctly diagnosed with Lupus two years ago after seeing no less than two dozen doctors who misdiagnosed her with everything from Multiple Sclerosis and brain tumors to Seizure disorder and Heart Arrhythmia. Aimee is a loving wife and mother of two, count them, two miracle children. Although Ms. Lupus has suffered nearly every facet of the disease from seizures and limb dysfunction, multiple miscarriages (four), and scarring on her kidneys and lungs she says that the chronic diarrhea, daily migraines, and the loss of her voice are her favorite symptoms.

Bob: Ms. Lupus affectionately refers to her Lupus as "My Monster". "I call it 'My monster' because it is devouring my body from the inside out."says Ms. Lupus Her favorite past times include taking naps to help with the complete exhaustion and paying off her mounting medical bills.

Talent competition:

Bob: Ms. Lupus - a classically trained vocalist - was going to sing "Adele's Laughing Song" from "Die Fledermaus" but unfortunately she has lost her voice again this evening. No matter, Ms. Lupus will entertain us instead with her imitation of an actual bat - Squeak, Squeak, Squeak And big finish SQUEEEAAAK!!

Shelly: Ah, yes, Thank you Ms. Lupus.

Evening Gown Competition:

Bob: And now for the evening gown competition. As a reminder to our audience, the evening gown competition is designed to show our contestants' grace, poise, and beauty.

Shelly: Aahhh, here is Ms. Lupus dressed in a full-length figure-hugging evening gown. Perhaps not her best choice seeing those 80 lbs she has put on over the past four years, what do you think, Bob?

Bob: Yes, we can definitely see that Ms. Lupus has packed on quite a few pounds but as you know those with Lupus generally either lose a lot of weight or gain a lot of weight. I'm afraid this year's Ms. Lupus is definitely on the 'plus size' of that spectrum. Aha, Aha. No seriously though, she does walk quite beautifully and effortlessly down the isle though, and.... no. She has fallen over and it appears she cannot get up. Yes? No? It looks like she is attempting to get back up. What do you think could have made her fall, Shelly?

Shelly: Well, Bob, persons with lupus can have dizziness and sudden extreme fatigue sweep over them at any moment and it appears that this may be the case with this contestant. Either that or she has lost all feeling in her toes again. One never can tell.

Bob: Ooh, that's too bad.
And now for our final portion of tonight's pageant - The Interview Competition Bob: Ms. Lupus - Why is Lupus so dang sexy? cough cough, glug glug (as I drink two glasses of water to combat the permadry mouth)

Well, Bob, aside from the obvious air of sexiness that my horse voice creates (which sounds like something similar to smoker's hack, although I've never smoked in my life) I'd say that Lupus is dang sexy because the symptoms vary so much, it keeps me guessing, and we all know how sexy an aura of mystery can be.

Shelly: Ms. Lupus, Your final Interview Question is: If crowned with the title Ms. Chronic Disease of America what will your platform be and what will you do with your title?

Huh? I'm sorry, I can't concentrate for extended periods of time. Were you speaking to me?

I'm pleased to introduce you to the next contestant in the Ms. Chronic Disease of America Pageant...

MS. TYPE 1 DIABETES!!!!

(Still shot of Ms. Diabetes flashes across the big screen)

Uh, sadly, Ms. Diabetes can’t be here in person at the moment. Her blood sugars are “off” and she is backstage “shooting up.”

(no one chuckles at my hilarious joke)

Um, while we are waiting for her return, let’s take a look at Ms. Diabetes’ submission letter.

(the following letter, composed by Ms. Diabetes, appears on the screen)

To: The Ms. Chronic Disease Pageant Committee

Attn: Judges

August 2009

Dear Judges:

As you stated in your call for pageant entrants, there is so much more to the world of pageantry than beauty, swimsuits, and a great smile. The essay submission, is, I feel, the defining moment of a truly worthy winner. It's not just for college applications anymore! Here is a glimpse into my charmed life.....

As a young lady--age 16, to be exact--I had the fortunate experience of being diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. While other girls my age were dreaming of boys, clothes, and makeup, I was hiding in the bathroom, checking my blood sugar and giving myself insulin injections!!!!

(insert high cheer kick and spirit fingers)

Now, before you say that it wouldn’t be fair for me to win this pageant because I’ve already won the Diabetes lottery, let me tell you why my disease is so amazingly, unbelievably, and undeniably sexy.

In addition to being blessed with circulation problems that will probably cause me to lose one or more extremities during my life, I’ve also been fortunate enough to acquire several disease-related food allergies!!! My friends and family love LOVE love going out to eat with me because I’m super easy to accommodate. Included on the long list of foods that my body can’t tolerate (cookies, cakes, candy, soda, fruit juice) are super weird things like nuts, berries, and RICE. Basically, the only things I can eat without throwing my body into a diabetic coma or anaphalytic shock are cheese whiz and white bread…It’s a good thing both of those things are so healthy for you!!!!

Shortly after being diagnosed with Diabetes, I also acquired another autoimmune disease—Eczema!!! Having scaly bumps all over your body is really fun (and attractive) and what’s more, makes for good dinner party conversation.

Overhead at a recent party at my husband’s work:

“Uh…Bob, Did you see those oozing bumps on that woman’s hands?”

Leprosy rocks.

In addition to Diabetes, I also suffer from INFERTILITY! After spending several years getting my diabetes under control so that we could start trying to have a family, I went to a fertility specialist, where I got some awesome news. The doctor told me that under “no circumstances would I ever be able to conceive!!!”

I was, of course, elated to hear this news.

Infertility NEVER goes away and it is a constant thorn in my side and ache in my heart. If it’s not a chronic disease, I don't know what is!

Yours, with all the hope of winning this glorious award,

Ms. Diabetes

(AKA Rochelle)

Special Musical Performance

What would a classy e-pageant be without a classy musical act? Fresh off her show stopping performance at the Miss Universe pageant last weekend, give it up for HEIDI MONTAG lip- syncing her way to stardom!!!

watch the magic for yourself

Welcome Back to the Ms. Chronic Disease of America Pageant!

(wild cheers and catcalls)

[today’s post was written by Ms. Psoriatic Arthritis, AKA ERIN]

Look! Here come the contestants of tonight's fabulous pageant. And leading them off, wearing a stunning evening gown that possibly fit her eight years ago before she had those kids (but possibly not), comes Ms. Psoriatic Arthritis! Watch as she holds on for dear life coming down the steps in those shoes. I hope she doesn't fall off. Her gown is black, all the better to show off the flaky dead skin falling off her scalp. She's had to stop dyeing her hair because of the reaction it caused-- so you will notice the attractiveness of all that gray. To think she's pulling off this fabulous 70-year-old woman look at the age of only thirty!!!

As we continue our pageant, we move on to the swimsuit competition! You will notice how the swimsuit highlights Ms. Psoriatic Arthritis's grossly disfigured joints and her patches of nasty psoriasis! And my, aren't those stretch marks attractive? As you watch Ms. Psoriatic Arthritis pose before the judges, you will notice that one of her shoulders seems smaller than the other. This is definitely the new look for spring! It makes all her shirts with words on them appear crooked!

For tonight's talent competition, Ms. Psoriatic Arthritis has prepared a phenomenal routine called "getting ready in the morning." It is rumored to be very difficult and full of peril. Let's watch-- the first part of her routine seems to be getting out of bed. This is an extremely complex maneuver, especially when her husband isn't here to pull her up. Oh, for a minute there I thought she wouldn't make it but she has! Now let's watch as she hobbles to the bathroom-- her foot joints must be in really bad shape this morning! Watch as she attempts to lower herself onto the toilet-- always a fun task when one's knees and hips aren't in the mood to bend! And oh, my, seems her hands aren't cooperating well with her need to wipe herself! Yowza! She still has a long way to go-- turning on the sink, squeezing out the toothpaste, and buttoning her pants are all still ahead as well as changing the baby's dirty diaper and tying her son's shoes!! And I heard through the grapevine that her son has a fever this morning and she won't be able to get the medicine bottle open-- so she will have to stab it with a steak knife! Ah yes, this is turning out to be a very exciting competition!

And now finally, we are going to hear directly from the contestants in tonight's pageant.

Ms. Psoriatic Arthritis, why should you be this year's Ms. Chronic Disease of America?”

"Well, this is a great competition, and all these ladies are so awesome. We have just had the greatest time admiring each other's medical charts and sharing our overgrown joints. I have just been so impressed by all the darn sexiness present in this pageant. But honestly, I think I should win because I would use my crown for good. And by good I mean that I would use it to beat my kids over the head with when they give me a hard time about not spreading their peanut butter on their toast fast enough in the mornings. Thank you."

(standing ovation and much weeping and mascara wiping)

Welcome to the first annual

MS. CHRONIC DISEASE PAGEANT OF AMERICA!!!!!!!!!

(insert parade of contestants marching in circles on stage to a B-list cover band)

I want to thank the oodles of women and men (yes, there were several) who entered this pageant. I received buttloads (to use an appropriate IBS pun) of entries…so many in fact that I was forced to solicit the help of my best friend and fellow invalid AMY H. of Dallas, Texas to help me read through all the submissions and determine the finalists.

(applause and sighs of gratitude)

Aren’t these ladies beautiful?

(gesture to contestants, many of whom are doubled over in pain, wearing diapers, and are thirty pounds over/underweight thanks to their medications)

The women standing before you come from all over the U.S. and represent some the sexiest and most drug resilient chronic illnesses on the planet!!!!!

(more inappropriate applause and still shots of contestants who are way too cute/high-functioning to make it into the finals)

While every one of these ladies and gents clearly deserves the Crown, sadly, there can only be one Ms. Chronic Disease of America.

(fake tears)

What do you say? Shall we get on with the competition?

Each day this week, I’ll introduce you to one of the finalists. She’ll tell you in her own words why she deserves this highly coveted title. Take notes because at the end of the week, you’ll be asked to VOTE for your favorite!!!!

Without further ado, please welcome our first contestant in the interview portion of the competition to the stage….

MS. POLYCYSTIC OVARIAN SYNDROME!!!!

Thanks!

(Ms. POS (AKA Jennifer of Texas) hobbles to center stage and draws a piece of paper from a clear glass bowl).

“Congratulations! You will have the privilege of being interviewed today by the Editor-in-Chief of Sexy Disease Weekly, the most popular disease tabloid in the world.”

(contestant squeals with excitement)

[everything that follows written by Ms. POS]

SDW: So tell me Miss PCOS, you look A.MAZ.ING and our readers are clamoring to know: what’s your skin care regiment?

Ms PCOS: Okay, I confess. (whispers) Excess androgens.

SDW: Really? You mean, like elevated levels of testosterone?

Ms PCOS: Believe it or not, yes. I totally underestimated the effect testosterone could have for my skin. The excess facial hair and body hair. The acne. The skin tags. The sun spots. If Lancome ever gets hold of this patent, I’ll be a lot less interesting to the paparazzi and I may lose my job (laughs).

SDW: Speaking of the paparazzi, they seem to catch you at the gym frequently. Rumor has it that you work out 2+ hours per day, usually twice a day, every day. How is it that you can exercise so much and still maintain that voluptuous figure of yours?

Ms PCOS: Another secret of the testosterone. As my celebrity nutritionist has informed me, my body “stores fat efficiently.” I don’t even have to worry about all-purpose flour, refined sugars, desserts, white bread, chocolate, juice, anything! My body will maintain my fat reserves and increase them just by thinking of a snickerdoodle. AND, I can gain weight by eating fruit before 2 pm, unlike my unfortunate friends. They eat doughnuts for breakfast and chocolate all day long--the poor little things can’t gain a pound. They'll have to work their way up to the ranks of obesity, whereas I don't even have to try. They're victims of circumstance and it's unfair to them.

SDW: Truly. So when did you discover your own good fortune? When did you know this was your chosen path?

Ms PCOS: The turning point in my career was in college when I went from a size 3 to a 10 in less than a year. Seven sizes! I didn't even have to change my eating or exercise habits. I just sort of fell into it, ya know? Not a lot of people have that good fortune.

SDW: Wow. Incredible. With all this good luck, can you even narrow down your journey to the best experience thus far?

Ms PCOS: (enthusiastically) Yes, certainly! The most favorable part of the whole experience was the infertility. Due in part to amenorrhea and anovulation and 73 cysts on my ovaries, I didn’t have to have a child for 5 years. And even after conceiving, the labor was super-easy. The contractions weren't any worse than my usual nether-region pain. I was well-prepared for it, thanks to my body's foresight.

SDW: Everything just came together for you and I don't suspect that to end any time soon. Your future looks so bright--any plans in the works?

Ms PCOS: If I play my cards right, I have a really good shot at breaking into the diabetes scene. Possibly even hypertension, heart disease, uterine cancer, stroke, ovarian cancer...the works!!!!!!

**********

Stay tuned...Here's who is coming up after the commercial break:

Ms. Lupus!

Ms. Type 1 Diabetes!!

Ms. Psoriatic Arthritis!!!

It Started With the Floor Around the Toilet...

which never smelled quite right after potty-training the boys.


Replacing the toilet led to ripping out the the porous thirty-year-old tile floor....

which led to knocking out all the tile around the bathtub...



which led to removing the "vintage" (code for old and gross) vanity....

which led to excising the drywall damaged in the process of removing the vanity from the bathroom.

As we patted ourselves on the backs and and admired our accomplishments of the evening, my husband and I were suddenly struck with the horrific realization that our compulsive demolition of the kids' bathroom comes with a consequence: namely, that what we took apart must be put back together again.

Rest assured, our foolishness will not go unpunished. Until we fix this mess, our daily penance will be sharing a toilet with our children.

Math Test

Two weekends ago, my sister Amy came up from Washington D.C. for a visit. She arrived at our house mid morning on Saturday with three bags of gummy sharks and a new boyfriend named Warren, whom she was trying to impress.

In an attempt to help my sister put her best foot forward, my husband suggested that she and I compete in a math contest. This was a very good idea because when it comes to fractions and long division, my sister and I are both very impressive. Specifically, I hold the distinction of earning the lowest possible math score on the Graduate Record Exam (the S.A.T. for grad school). My sister is enrolled in one of the most prestigious writing programs in the country but doesn't know her multiplication tables, so we're fairly evenly matched.

Warren, who is working on his Ph.D. in Economics, wrote the first draft of the test. Several of the questions assumed (incorrectly) a working knowledge of algebra and were ultimately deemed too difficult for us and thrown out. Painfully aware of my limitations, my husband drafted the second and final version of the test.

Do you see my sister trying to cheat by peeking at my paper?!! It's a good thing I made an arm shield.

I got all of the problems right, except for numbers 1, 2, 3, 4 and 6. My sister only missed 4 1/2 problems (she got partial credit for doing the math right, but writing the wrong answer).

You can't argue with the math. According to my calculations, Amy is definitely the more impressive sister.

*****
Think you are awesomer at math than us? Take our test and tell me the results!

Caught on Tape

If I were a Neanderthal, I would be a hunter-gatherer. My heart races whenever I step foot into a store like Marshalls, where inventory changes daily, half the stuff doesn't have a price tag, and nothing is where it is supposed to be.

Last week, I found what is perhaps my greatest treasure yet: a pair of navy wedge heels for $10. I found the shoes in the shoe department of all places...and they were even in a box!!!

After purchasing the shoes and taking them home, I realized that there was a good reason why they were so cheap.

"Those shoes are really ugly," my husband observed.

A few days later, I tried to take the shoes back. After scanning the shoes and my receipt, the woman at the return counter informed me that she couldn't refund my money. The product code on the receipt didn't match the shoes I had in the bag.

After a considerable amount of head scratching, we noticed that the price tag was missing half of its bar code. Rather than hunt down the correct bar code, the cashier who rang me up probably typed in a generic code.

The manager was super understanding. "People bring in bogus receipts all the time," he told me. To give credence to his theory that I was trying to swindle $10 from the corporation, he called the supervisor of the shoe department, who confirmed that she had never seen the shoes before in her life.

The manager smiled smugly as he hung up the phone.
"There's nothing you can do?" I asked.

"The only way to verify that you bought the shoes when you did and for what you said you did," the man told me, "Is to look at the security tape at your time of purchase."

Searching 8,000 hours of security tape to verify a $10 purchase seemed like a reasonable request and a productive use of everyone's time, so I agreed.

"This is going to take at least an hour," the man warned, clearly annoyed.

I told him to page me when he found the evidence. I would be digging through the clearance section of the housewares section.

As I made my way to the shelf of unfolded towels, chipped serving platters, and ceramic Easter eggs, I began to have a change of heart. The shoes weren't that ugly. The more I looked at them, in fact, the more I started to actually like them.

Fifteen minutes later, I stopped by the return counter.

"Tell the manager that I've changed my mind," I told the woman. "I've decided to keep the shoes."

We Rock

There have been a lot of nights lately when I've put my kids to bed and asked myself, "What did I do today?"


I need days like today, when I boycotted housework and every other daily chore, to remind myself that the question that every woman should be asking herself at the end of the day is "What didn't I do today?"

In case you didn't know, girls rock.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

My husband and I took the kids to Baltimore for the weekend. The Orioles were playing our hometown team, the California Angels, and we thought it would be fun to go to a couple of the games. Kellen and Cortlen (age 5) were very interested in the activities on the field. Camber (age 6), on the other hand, was more interested in hanging on my arm, asking me incessently when we were going to leave, and rifling through the contents of my purse.

"Stay out of there!" I told her for the fifteenth time in as many minutes and swatted her hand away from my stash of breath mints.

It's hard being six, unjustly persecuted, and on the brink of starvation. Against better advice, Camber made the conscious decision to consume all of her snacks and drinks in the top of the first inning.

The whining, the wiggling, and the gnashing of teeth increased in intensity throughout the second and third innings. By the fourth inning, the people around us were beginning to wiggle and gnash their teeth. I took Camber and the baby on a trip to the restroom.

Outside the bathroom was a white tent filled with young women wearing white jeans and lots of eye makeup. Several other similarly dressed women stood at the bathroom exit, handing out perfume-scented coupons for waterproof mascara and pointing female baseball fans in the direction of the tent, where free lip gloss and a complimentary makeover awaited.

The same six-year-old who would not sit still in a stadium seat for more than two seconds waited in line patiently for forty-five minutes for a dab of blush and a free tube of blemish concealer.


We returned to our seats at the bottom of the seventh inning. Immediately after showing her father and brothers her new treasures, the six-year-old announced that she was hot, sweaty, hungry, tired, and probably allergic to the chair in which she was sitting. She scratched and writhed her way through the eighth inning, at which point we decided to call it a night.

*******
Anyone else torture their children in similar fashion? Do tell!

Off the Wagon

Yesterday, my kids fell off the wagon so to speak. Specifically, they went a whole four days--a family record--without indulging in their favorite vice. Ultimately, however, the temptation grew too strong for even the most self-disciplined to bear.

"Turn me on for just one minute," it begged whenever they passed by. "Maybe two."

"The driveway is thirsty," it pleaded a little louder after the initial invitations were ignored. "Give it just a little drink."

Over time, the commands grew more forceful and the consequences for disobeying more severe.

"Take all of your mom's Tupperware containers out of the kitchen and fill them up. Then dump them out. Then fill them up again.... If you don't, I won't be your friend."

I was making dinner last night when I heard my favorite combination of things: running water and dead silence.

When I went opened the front door to investigate, I found a roving typhoon.

"Watch out!" yelled Camber as she ran past me. The warning came just as I was hit in the face by a gush of water. Several gallons, or so it seemed, pushed past me, flooding the foyer floor.

"Oops," said Kellen. "That wasn't supposed to hit you," he explained.

I'll leave the rest of this story to your imagination.

The Slumber Party

On Friday night, my neighbor hosted a girls only slumber party at her home. Usually, I avoid situations where I am expected to hold my own in conversation, but there was a strong likelihood that one or more of the other party guests (four slightly inebriated women whose median age was 49) would spill the beans on something of interest, so I went.

The first half of the evening was spent eating salad and discussing how we all would rather be eating dessert. The second half of the night was spent eating dessert and praising ourselves for eating salad first. As the conversation drifted away from ourselves and onto our children, I was struck by the fact that the stories these women told about their college-aged children (bad manners, stolen property, urinating in places where they shouldn't) sounded eerily similar to the stories I tell about my five-year-olds and other people tell about their dogs.

Even after playing Truth or Dare and batting around the idea of 'TP'ing a neighbor's house just for fun, none of use could shake the feeling that there was something missing from our slumber party. A few minutes later, the front door swung open and a streaker--wearing only a pair of underpants--ran through the house.

I love my husband.

The Ms. Chronic Disease of America Pageant: Call for Contestants

So lately I've been getting quite a few emails from ladies who question/debate my claim that Crohn's Disease is the sexiest autoimmune disease on the planet. I don't know how the status of a disease that gives you such delights as the stoma (I miss mine soooo much) and the fistula can be questioned, but evidently there are some people who think that putting Crohn's Disease on such a high pedestal is just plain crap. Pun intended.

The way I see it, the only way to settle this dispute once and for all is to put our collective ailments up against each other, American style. I am speaking, of course, about a beauty pageant!!!!!!!

This post serves as the OFFICIAL (and everything we do around here is super official) call for contestants for the first annual

MS. CHRONIC DISEASE OF AMERICA E-PAGEANT !!!

(insert toe touches and wild cheers of jubilation)

Contestants will be judged on their poise, grace, debilitating disfigurements, and thickness of their medical charts in inches. The ability to laugh at oneself and find humor in the unfortunate is a must.


Want to know if you're eligible? Click HERE or HERE to find out!

If you have Lupus, MS, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Diabetes or something rare and hard to pronounce (Dermatomyocitis anyone?), step forward and let your diseased self shine! This pageant is for you girl!!!

Leprosy? Hypochondria? Prone to adult acne or irrational temper tantrums? We're non-discriminatory when it comes to the afflicted. We'll take you too!

If you want to be a contestant in this pageant, e-mail me at themeanestmom at gmail dot com, subject line "pageant." I'll be taking submissions through the end of the week, at which point, a committee comprised of chronically ill women in various stages of physical and emotional decay will select the finalists. Then there will be voting, tears of joy, a plastic crown, and bragging rights FOREVER.

Just think: this could be YOU, only with chubby Prednisone cheeks, a spare tire, and a weird rash on your rump. Can it get any better?

*******
For those of you who think this pageant is in bad taste, I totally agree. There is nothing more tacky than talking openly about Irritable Bowel Sydrome and its friends.


I stand corrected.

Do you want to hear something sad?

I already lost my driver's license. I have no earthly clue where it is or when in the past week it escaped me.

I am also missing a $10 merchandise credit gift card to Target, which presumably fell out of my wallet at the same time.

I can't decide which is worse.

*****

Today, one of my favorite old posts is rerunning as 5 Minutes for Mom's Daily Dose of Humor. Check it out!

*****

Today is also the last day to register for the $260 Sears Portrait package giveaway. Good luck to everyone!

R.I.P. Toys Left on the Driveway

Yesterday, Cortlen's skateboard bit the dust. He left the object outside overnight and I accidentally ran over it as I was backing out of the driveway on the way to swim lessons the next morning.

Sadly, this is not the first sacrificial offering that my children have made to a metal beast. Earlier this summer, Camber made the mistake of leaning her scooter against my bumper. A few weeks ago, Kellen left his favorite squirt gun at the base of our driveway and it was inadvertently crushed to smithereens by my husband's truck.

"You broke it!" Cortlen cried in my direction when he saw that his skateboard had two fewer wheels than it did the day before.

Things got ugly when I didn't readily agree to purchase a replacement.

I used to feel remorseful when I unintentionally ran over my kids' toys. That feeling ended several months ago when I stubbed my toe lugging two bikes, a hockey stick, and several soccer balls into the garage during a thunderstorm.

*****
Anyone else's driveway a path of destruction? Tell me what you've accidentally destroyed.

A possible reason why certain name brand products end up at the dollar store

When I was at the dollar store earlier this week, I spotted several bottles of name brand spray sunscreen. Since this stuff typically runs upwards of $9 per bottle, I swiped the whole lot into my shopping cart.

As I was applying the bargain sunscreen to myself and to my children later that afternoon, I noticed that the substance had a distinct odor which I couldn't quite place...until one of my pool friends sniffed the air around me and asked, "Do you smell ant poison?"

$260 Portrait Studio Package Giveaway

Wanna guess where this photo was taken?

I'll give you a clue: It's not where you think.

Believe it or not, these photos were taken at a Sears Portrait Studio in the mall! Armed with fancy new digital cameras and high-tech photo editing programs, your local Sears photographers are equipped to take some wonderfully gorgeous photos of your family....in a short period of time...in a convenient and familiar place...with minimal trauma to mother and child.

When we got our photographs taken last week, Cameron spit up on the photographer four times, Kellen wouldn't sit still, Cortlen wouldn't stop inquiring about the bag of candy in my purse, and Camber struggled mightily against the urge to clench her jaw into a bizarre forced smile. Despite these challenges and many others which I will not name, my team of photographers did a fabulous job of capturing my kids at their best...and silliest...and most serious.


I'm proud to be teaming up with Sears Portrait Studio to offer one lucky winner the Silver Portrait Collection worth $260!


Here's what's included:

• 10 custom mix and match portrait sheets

• 2 collage/composite portrait sheets of your choice (one of the many options is featured above)

• 1- 10x13 wall portrait

• up to 10 standard enhancements such as black & white, sepia, vignettes, and borders.

• A CD of ALL of your original images with accompanying copyrights.

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License to Drive

Last week, I got my license renewed at the DMV. In addition to lugging my four children to the state agency, I also brought along my friend Gayle who needed her license renewed too.

Before departing for our epic journey, I called the three closest DMV offices to my house.

"Generally speaking," I asked the receptionists, "When is your least busy time of the day?"

The answers I received varied from the informative "I don't know" to the specific "It depends." Armed with such valuable decision-making tools, I erred on the side of caution and went to the DMV located across the street from a Burger King.

Gayle waited in the car with the kids while I scoped out the situation. I was disheartened to discover a room packed with people. I was relieved, however, to find an efficient organizational infrastructure to manage the crowd. A large sign at the doorway instructed me to 1) take a number from a ticket dispenser and then 2) take a seat.


I took two numbers--one for me and one for Gayle--and then went outside to tell the troops to brace for a long haul. Almost immediately, Gayle decided that it would be prudent to space our numbers so that my kids wouldn't have to get out of the car. I agreed, so after a few minutes, I went inside and took another number. Unfortunately, it was an even number and I prefer odds, so I was compelled to take another ticket. When I sat down, I noticed that the woman next to me had seven numbers in her hand. This caused me to worry that I was not the only person in the room stockpiling numbers for no good reason. I remedied the situation by grabbing three more numbers. As I went to sit down for the third time in two minutes, I definitely saw the woman behind me roll her eyes. Just to prove that I am not the sort to be bullied, I got up and retrieved another number.

You will be proud to know that I waited a whole seven minutes before taking yet another number.

By the time my first number was called, I had eleven of the numbers between 60 and 97 in my purse.

After getting my license, I returned to the car where I presented Gayle with a plethora of numerical options. Strangely, she chose the ticket that was next in line.... despite the fact that it was an even number.

Shabby Apple Dress Giveaway Winner

The gorgeous Jackie O dress goes to (drumroll)......

The Pitts, who said, "Love it!! Perfect for teachers!"

Congratulations! Email me pronto to claim your prize.

Speaking of teachers...sadly, I turned down the community college teaching position yesterday. Why? The college's vending machines are stocked exclusively with Pepsi products, and I'm a loyal Coke fan. Also, try as I might, I couldn't get past the fact that gas, childcare, and my semester parking pass would cost me three quarters of my salary.