Monthly Archives: September 2010

One Kid Rocks

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One of the many reasons I was pregnant and delivered a baby only once in my life is because it hurt, and I am a quick learner.  One evening after I had my beautiful baby girl, I was suffering from stomach pain (go figure).  I was recovering from a c-section, a breast infection, and the wonderful experience of bursting some of my internal c-section stitches. What can I say?  Fun!  Fun!  Fun!  I went to use the bathroom (just a pee, I swear) and before I flushed noticed a LOT of blood in the toilet (don’t worry, that’s as gross as it gets).  I started panicking, because that is what I do best.  We went to the E.R., baby in tow, and got me a full-fun-filled pelvic exam and all sorts of tests.  They couldn’t find anything wrong with me.  So, after a good five hours, we went home.  After we got settled in for the remaining few hours of the night, my husband suddenly jumped out of bed with a nose bleed.

Lightbulb!!

I asked him if he’d had a nose bleed earlier that night, and if perhaps, for some weird reason he had thrown the tissue into the toilet and maybe, just maybe never flushed it down….

Yup.  A night in the E.R., blood tests, pelvic exam (my absolute FAVORITE thing), hospital bills, and (another) sleepless night with a newborn – all for a friggin’ nose bleed.  Seriously?  I am far too paranoid to have more than one baby.

See… my bubble needed to be firmed up a bit that day.  I do better with a non-permeable membrane.

What Stinks?

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Everyday I walk my dogs.  I try to think my bubble headed happy thoughts while I do this, although there are times when the poop heads get to me.  Breathe in happy, breathe out stupid.  That’s my mantra.

While in this ridiculous state of mind, you will often hear me shout (daily, at least),

LEAVE IT ALONE!!!  If it smells that good, it’s probably dead!!

If you couldn’t see me, you wouldn’t know I am typically yelling this at my 85 pound labrador, who is sweeter than sweet, but for some reason loves all things dead.  She likes to lay down on them, rub them into her previously clean fur, even try to smash them into her ears.  It is her favorite thing to do.  This can mess with my mantra a bit, because then I start thinking about dead smells, and I forget to be breathing in my “happy” and out my “stupid.”

Mantras aside, I do believe that if it smells that good, it’s probably dead.  I think I will make that my new mantra.

Why bubble head?

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When my grampa was alive, he had a load of nicknames for me, one of which was “bubble head.”  Many of the other nicknames turned out to be racist slurs, but I just figured that out in the last couple of years, because I am a bubble head.  I love bubbles.  They are shiny, happy, tasty, reflective, and they float.  What could be better?  Even my dogs love bubbles.  I love bubbles so much that I live in one.  It is my comfort bubble, and you may mock me for hiding in it sometimes, but it makes me happy.

You may see me floating along, my head in the clouds like a big bubble, trying to maintain my happy state.  Don’t pop it.  I hate it when people do that.  It’s messy.

Oh, why not.

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Blog.  Sure.  Why not.  My goal here is to ONLY BE HUMOROUS!  I write about my life, and I keep it as true as truth is to the teller of the story.  I find that if I look back and only the remember the funny stuff, my life is better.  Who wants to hear about the fights, the struggles, and the downturns?  That’s for therapy. We all have that in our lives, but we also all have the funny moments.  Maybe you’ll also be inspired to focus on your past funny moments, as well.

Just be happy.  Dammit.