BloggingDangerously

No Junk Punches

My boys are 6 and 7 and they each spend a significant portion of their day with their head locked underneath the otherone's armpit, bumping and thumping and rolling, Tasmanian Devil style from room to room.

This is all well and good until someone bumps into something sharp and painful and then goodnatured turns decidedly BAD natured and they attempt to inflict real pain on each other.

As a result my husband implemented a "NO Punches to the Junk" rule to protect the boys, their budding manhood and our future grandchildren.

On a COMPLETELY separate note: on Tuesdays my mother comes to visit the kids and take them out for lunch.  Also, I typically work out of the home on Tuesdays so this gives my SAHD husband the house all to himself so that he can either get something done or, typically, to nap.  Today I didn't leave for work until after my mother had taken the children.

I walked in to the kitchen to discuss something with my husband.  As I was talking I could tell that he was looking at my hair, at my clothing, etc.  I could tell that he was thinking about something BESIDES the VERY IMPORTANT thing I was discussing.

"You're not listening to me." I complained.

"Yes I am" he insisted.

I looked down, POINTEDLY, at his crotch where his erection was making a VERY OBVIOUS bump in his shorts.  He followed my gaze and then looked sheepish. He burst out laughing.  "I was TRYING to listen." he said.

He walked over and hugged me affectionately, TOO affectionately.

"I want to hit you right now."  I said.

"In the package." I added.

"Why do you think I made that rule?" he asked.

ER

Wednesday when I got home from work I started to get intense cramps in my lower back.  Also an achiness in my shoulders.  I decided that maybe I was getting my period even though it wasn't really the right time for that type of present.

I went to bed early and slept, as always, like a log.  I woke up in the morning relieved of back pain but instead, with terrible, terrible stomach cramps.  I started to think "flu" but didn't have any other convincing symptoms.  I called my doctor concerned that it could be appendicitis but the pain wasn't localized, it was throughout my entire lower abdomen.  She called me back to say that she couldn't diagnose appendicitis in the office so I should drink fluids, get rest and if I felt worse go to the ER.

Around 8:30 I went to the ER.  It was PACKED when I got there.  The person beside me said she'd been waiting for 3.5 HOURS.  OMG. I have never BEEN to an emergency room!  I've heard nightmares but that was my first time.  It was crazy.  There was a group of 8-10 people huddled together in a corner alternately crying and laughing inappropriately.  They were there awaiting word on a friend who had been in a car accident.  It was sad.

There was a guy beside me who was BULLSHIT that his boss made him miss 2 hours of work to go to the ER JUST BECAUSE he'd lost vision in his right EYE.

There was a woman on my other side who had been there for 3 hours with chest pains.  By the time they called her, she felt fine.  She was pissed, but she FELT fine.

The man sitting across from me had recently had his hip replaced and the two pins holding it together had apparently popped - judging from his limping and obvious agony.  I SAY obvious agony but when the ER had emptied and it was only he and I left, I was PRAYING to be called first.  There, I said it.  I'm generous in theory but not when 4 HOURS have passed.

And then, when they called him first I had a hissy fit.  I went to the desk and said, "HOW MUCH LONGER?  Can I just go home?"

They sent the nurse over to talk me down.  "It's almost your turn," she told me.

I like to think that in those extreme survival situations - that I would be a survivor but the truth is that in that moment, if someone had offered me a flat surface and a package of saltines I would have drifted off to sleep not caring if I ever woke up.  I hope I'm never in an extreme-cold situation.  I hope that for a lot of reasons.  Actually today was 100 degrees and I hope I'm never in an extreme-hot situation.

What we're learning here is that I'm a baby.

Anyway, I stuck it out in the Emergency Room and just when I thought I'd convinced the nurse to bring me a pack of crackers she came to tell me that it was shift change and that I was next.  NO SHIT I was next, the waiting room was EMPTY.

And then, just when I thought it was safe, in walked Kim.  Let me tell you about Kim.  The first thing I noticed about her was that she looked like shit. That was par for the course in the ER.  She also looked pretty pissed off.

She threw herself in a chair across from me.  "At least it's empty." she said to me.  I nodded, unwilling to tell her how long I'd been there and depress her.  At this point it was 1AM.

"Have you been here long?" she asked.  "Yes." I answered.  She couldn't hear me or didn't notice the nodding so she moved over to sit beside me.  "These people fuckin' suck." she told me.  "I was here the other day and they made me sit here for 6 hours.  They have no fucking idea what they're doing.  I'm pissing blood." she offered. "This is the third time I've been here this week," she told me. "They keep saying it's a kidney infection and sending me home with antibiotics.  It's NOT a kidney infection.  They just want to throw drugs at you and get you out of here.  The last time I was here they filled me up with morphine.  I couldn't think straight.  My friend brought me and he said I didn't even know his name!"

"Why are you here?" she asked, tossing HIPPA out the window.  I told her.

"You need to tell those fucking people to just give you a bed. Do you want me to tell them?" she asked.

"Uh, no," I stammered.  "They said just another minute."

"These people killed my brother.  He died in this hospital." she told me.  "They didn't do CPR on him.  Even if he was brain dead, that should have been our decision, the family's decision to let him live like that."

At this point I'm nodding and thinking to myself that I would rather not know how terrible the staff was that I was about to trust with my health.  It reminded me of the time when I was 23 and flying across the Atlantic beside a woman in her 30s with young children at home.  We hit turbulence and she FREAKED.  In my nerdy engineer way I tried to calm her down.  "We probably won't crash," I said. "And even if we do, we'd be dead before it had a chance to hurt."

She screamed, "I DON'T WANT TO DIE."

That's pretty much what was going through my head as I was talking to Kim.

Thank Goodness the nurse called me right then and I was shown to a room with a warm cozy bed.

I saw the doctor a few minutes later who ordered a CT scan. I drank enough Barium suspension SHIT to give me a stomach ache on top of the one I already had and then I was wheeled down to the CT room by the nicest guy named Will.

It turned out that my insides looked like they should have and they sent me home with medicine for a Urinary Tract Infection which turned my pee the color of Orange Fanta. This gave the kids QUITE a kick until they found out that I wouldn't share my cranberry juice with them.

Now they keep asking me, very sincerely, with their eyes on the disappearing bottle of EXPENSIVE, STAINING RED JUICE that they are NEVER ALLOWED TO HAVE, "Are you feeling MUCH BETTER, mama?"

"Yes" I tell them.  "But no, you can't have the juice."  They are devastated.  I have promised to buy them some next week when I go shopping - if they are very good.

As for poor Kim, sadly she skipped out of the emergency room when the nurse wasn't looking, right after they'd given her narcotics, 'for the pain.'  I hope she's better.

Muffdate: The Final Chapter

You may want to go get a snack and a drink. (Preferably alcoholic)  This could be a long one.

As you may remember, the SUPER-CHEAP Brazilian Bikini Waxing Salon is over 60 miles from my house.  However, I (conveniently) work in that town every Tuesday so it's not completely out of the way.

This past Tuesday I decided it was time for round two with the woman who had previously ripped out almost all of my pubic hair.  I called Monday morning.  They had openings all day Tuesday.  Their availability should have concerned me because the eyebrow waxing place I used to go to booked up 2 months in advance - but it didn't.

When I got there they took me right back.  An old hand now, I dropped trou in a corner of the 6x8 room.  It felt like a jail cell - a Twitter Jail cell.  The waxologist (?!?!) was a different woman today.  She spoke slightly more english than the other one - that is to say she knew how to say, "up", "down", "over", "legs" and "like a doggie."

As I was rolling my clothes up into a ball and putting them on the far side of the table (there was seriously, NO ROOM) I noticed a hand towel folded neatly on the table.  I also noticed a pubic hair embedded in it.  Um, yuck.  I should have run but I was naked from the waist down.

I climbed up on the table.

She got to work.  It hurt like hell but only half as much as last time.  My strategy of going back before all of the hair had grown back in worked like a dream.  The only glitch came when she got to the little triangle of hair I asked her to leave.  Apparently her aim with the wax spatula was pretty awful because she took off 1/3 of the triangle.  I jumped.  "Sorry," she said - another English word I would have preferred not to find out she had at her command.  Of course she had to even up the triangle on the other side.  I tensed, she pulled, I jumped.  Done.

Then she got down to the nooks and crannies.  Her aim with the wax spatula didn't get any better and as she liberally applied wax to my privatest parts all I could think of was an article I'd read on bikini waxing injuries.  Luckily I escaped with everything intact.  It took a FRACTION of the time and she SEEMED much more professional. 

I was worried that the shorter hairs wouldn't come out this time, leaving me in a constant state of hair too short to be waxed, hair just about to break through the surface and hairs just waxed - so that I would never been able to go the 2 months that some people talked about.  But when she was done it seemed as perfect as it had the first time.

I left feeling torn.  I was enjoying the results, because 1) it was minimal upkeep and 2) I was completely confident in those hard to reach places.

However, I was not enjoying adding $60/month to my beauty budget and the promised love-making results hadn't materialized (granted my sex life is pretty A-OK as it is but I was expecting my husband to be blown away - and he wasn't.)  Also, it's not like the hair all appeared on the same day and for the few days that it was growing in before I could get it waxed I felt EXTREMELY UNGLAMOROUS.

Later, when I got home and could check out her handiwork I realized that she'd actually done a terrible job.  I took off what she'd missed with a razor and felt like I was getting back to my roots - so to speak.

I wasn't sure if I would ever be going back.

(to be continued...)

Dangerous Letters, Vol 14.

I'll start by apologizing that this post was not up Friday morning.  I spent Thursday night in the Emergency Room and when I got home at 5am on Friday, blog posting was the second thing on my mind - after sleeping.  My apologies.

I want to give a HUGE shout out to all of my twitter friends who answered my questions about appendicitis early Thursday morning and then spent the next 36 hours wondering where the heck I was and asking each other if I was okay.  In the end, I turned out to be the best kind of sick and will tell you all about it tomorrow.  I sincerely appreciate the kindness of people who have never met me in person.  Next time someone asks me what the point of Twitter is, I will tell them, THAT IS THE POINT.

In happier news, I am THRILLED to tell you that BLOGGING DANGEROUSLY has been nominated for TWO Blog Competitions!  The first is the 2010 Blogger's Choice award for Best Blog of All Time!  Please vote for me here.

The second is the BLOGLUXE awards where I was nominated in FOUR categories: including Funniest, Guilty Pleasure, Most Provocative and Most Inspiring.  Thank you for voting!

And seriously, I really appreciate the nominations.  Thank you.

This weekly wrap up is tough because it seems like last week was 100 days ago instead of just 7.  It's hard enough doing this when I haven't spent part of the last week hanging out with a meth addict and a 1/2 blind guy but this week the sleep deprivation has taken it's toll.  So I'm turning the stage over to you guys (we all know that's why you're here.)  Here we go:

On the post, Summer Sexstice:

Bravo to you! I also like random-household-furnishings-sex. Ie...kitchen counter, dining room chair, back of the couch...etc! Its exciting cuz there's the naughty factor, plus the "what-if-we-get-caught" factor. I'm sure ur husband was thrilled also.

signed, red_i_jedi802

Kit: I'm taking notes.. dining room chair, back of the couch... got it.  I'll keep you posted!

Whew! Close call! My husband would never take the chance of being caught by the kids...or at least, not unless I got him a little drunk. In which case he'd be so loud he'd be guaranteed to wake the children.

signed, KLZ

Kit: My husband is never louder than I am - at least not until the charlie horse takes over his calves!

Can barely fit the pots and pans in my tiny ass kitchen, much less a nooky island. JEALOUS!
And, um, maybe Sextice is a US thing? You'll have to enlighten those of us from Down Under :)

signed, reality_chick

Kit: Sextice is not a US thing - it's something I completely made up as an excuse to have hot summer sex but Down Under you have an EVEN better reason to celebrate the Winter Sextice because you're not sweating all over each other this time of year.  Call it 4th of July Sex (since you won't be distracted by bon fires and fireworks) and have your own celebration!

I need to salute the power of Summer Sexstice! The last few days have been mind blowing -- life-altering, even -- including today's not-apocryphal-after-all morning workout. Mrs. D doesn't read your blog, so I don't know if it's coincidence, old Druid magic, or me channeling the power of your blog, but holy mother of Christ!

I LITERALLY can not thank you enough. And if you find that I'm not commenting as often as usual, then please understand that I have a very good reason.

signed, AlexanderDope

Kit: This comment thrilled me to my bits!  I'm so TRULY happy that my blog is helping other people have more sex.  Really, that is TOTALLY FREAKING AWESOME!

Read the other 19 comments on this post HERE:

On the post, Overheard:

We love men... we love them a lot. Tell your husband we love men so much we could even eat a whole one :)

signed, Paxochka

Kit: Really, he wouldn't be concerned with you eating a whole one, just the part he offered until he was done.  Of course, mentioning eating him would probably have me completely forgiven.

::dies:: best conversation EVER.

signed, Midgey

Kit: We have these conversations all the time with it usually leading to one or the other of us trying to prove to the other that we don't hate the other gender.  Thus all the sex.

Read the other 11 Comments on this post HERE.

On the post, Genetics 101:

NHL loves to sit on the couch and play with himself. We usually gently tell him to stop. (We don't want to teach him that touching himself is wrong... just that it's not something you do in public.) My wife is convinced that he's learned it from someone but I don't know who. He couldn't have learned it from her and our three year old can't play with himself through his pull-up. Who does that leave? *whistles innocently*

signed, Techydad

Kit: This reminds ME of the time I told my co-worker that my husband was a stay at home dad and that I had 2 sons (daughters had not yet arrived) and he looked at me and burst out laughing and said, "You're going to come home and they'll all be watching SportsCenter in their Underwear."  Of course, it's totally happened regardless of the addition of two daughters! (my husband just wears Champion shorts.)

Read the other 5 Comments on this post HERE.

On the post, Ten Things that have made me Laugh Lately:

I guess as long as YOU'RE not having to use the magnifying glass to find the "wenis" it's all good.

signed, thenextmartha

Kit: Oh sometimes it's fun to grab the magnifying glass and jump under the sheets to see what I can "find."

okay, #4 made me laugh so hard i shot diet dr pepper out my nose. Totally worth it! I love your stories :) I look forward to reading your blog every afternoon. Thanks again for making my day!

signed, Heather

Kit: I love it when you people snarf.  It's horribly wrong of my I know but I would rather GOOGLE Analytics tracked SNARFS than Page Views.  It seems more telling. I'm evil like that.

HAHAHAHA You have awesome kids! I especially love your 3yo!

signed, Dramaindc

Kit: She is unbelievable.  She sashays and struts and can wither you with a look.  She has that native confidence that people are SO jealous of and she's always had it.  I wish I had half her confidence.

Read the other 12 Comments on this post HERE.

On the post, Writing Assignment:

A little aside here that I am terribly terrible about giving credit where credit is due when it comes to recognizing people who have inspired me - not because I don't WANT to but because I have a terrible, terrible memory for names and faces particularly during #wineparty. But I do have to say that two weeks ago during wineparty some more-sober-than-they-should-have-been folks started haiku-ing into the #wineparty stream and completely intimidating me because Haiku has always scared me. Usually it's because it's in japanese :) but mostly because the cleverest haiku-ers tend to go sideways with the final 7 syllables and then I'm all "Huh? Could you use more words and tell me what you're trying to say?" but, of course they don't.

Anyway, the haiku during #wineparty was very fun and very simple and it seemed like a perfect writing assignment!  Apparently you agreed because we had massive audience participation. 

THANK YOU.

Let's have an orgy
the solstices got me really horny
everyone can join

-d H-Arza

Faithful friend, is she. Buzzing like a bumblebee. Brings Kit to her knees.

signed, sylvester_33

Kit: You know what, you have to read them.  If I picked the best ones I'd have to reprint them all.

Click here to read them yourselves.  They're awesome.

So thank you again for all of the well wishes.  More info on my health scare turned sitcom tomorrow - including why my pee is the color of Easter Egg Dye (or Orange Fanta, take your pick.)

Thank you again for the comment love.  It makes my day, every time I get an email alert that someone has left a comment.

Thank you for the blog award nominations. Remember, vote as often as you'd like here and here. :)

Have a great week.

Genetics 101

Last night I walked into my sons' room to check on them before I went to bed.  When I got to my 7yo's bed I realized that he was lying on top of it, completely naked.  His skinny white bum was staring up at me.  I laughed.

I walked over to my 6yo's bed.  He was lying there, tangled up in the sheets, also completely naked.

I kissed him goodnight and walked down the hall to my room, chuckling.  I prepared to tell my husband about what I had seen.  I walked into our room, turned toward our bed and saw my husband lying there buck naked.

I laughed.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing" I said.  "Now I know where they get it."