War for Breakfast

It’s The Man’s birthday and I am remembering past birthdays. I ruined his birthday two years ago. We were at The Mayo Clinic for a few weeks while I had my riskiest heart surgery. It was a scary time for both of us, for the risks we were taking, not knowing if it would work or, because of the way my heart plays coy when there’s an audience, if they’d be able to even see what the problem was. It was incredibly stressful. The trip involved 7 or 8 months of planning and everything happened to come together on/near The Man’s birthday. Though he assured me it was not the…

This story involves my husband’s hemorrhoid surgery, lots of diarrhea, Denny’s, and sex. Before I get to those highlights you’ll need some background information. •Three nurses and our pharmacist all specifically told us to take the colon-cleansing medicine two hours before the surgery. •Following their instructions was easily the most grievous surgery mistake we have ever made. (We’ve done more than twenty surgeries so that’s a significant statement.) •My husband, aka “The Man”, had to shower because the pre-op instructions said to “shampoo.” (They didn’t say what to shampoo but we figured he should shampoo both ends to be on the safe side.) •Our water heater found a farm, and…

I love The Kid. She is the kind of kid who thinks a red velour skirt with a white bow, over blue jeans, topped with a short sleeved, purple striped, mock turtleneck, is a good look for school pictures. I am the kind of mom who lets her wear things like that. She has a need for fashion, all kinds of it at the same time. She is the kind of kid who contracts E. coli because she likes dead animals, grabbing them by the scruffs of their necks so she can make them “walk” as she plays house with them. When you tell her she can’t do that anymore…

I fully advocate telling lies to your kids if it’s for their own good and the sanity of your family. As a mom? I lie. I lie a lot. The thing is, I’m not great at it, but every time I do it The Kid believes me. I remember when she was little and refused to eat almost anything but macaroni and cheese and cereal. Those are the two staples that kept her alive. We used to have horrible fights at meal time, but then we became smarter parents and changed strategies. Eating should never be a stressful event. We decided to tell her that she had to have whatever…

While The Man and I were at Mayo The Kid stayed with some of our neighbors. The very first phone call with her went like this: The Kid, incredulous-“MOM! You will *not* believe what happened at dinner tonight!” Me, anticipating quite the story as I thought about Cr and Ca with their big personalities and fun loving ways…they guarantee to entertain- “Yeah? Was it crazy?” The Kid, a bit too loud- “YES! You’ll never guess what happened! When we started to eat Ca said “Cr, these peas are overcooked.”‘ Me, a bit nonplussed- “Whoa. …That’s….unexpected…” Inside I’m thinking…You can overcook…peas…? Overcooked peas are a thing? I wonder if I’ve ever…