HAPPY TRANSPLANT DAY!

Today, here at TftC, we honor one of "our own," and her Merry Christmas present from her "unknown" gift-giver.

Hey, Fighter!  Today is Happy Transplant Day!

If this face doesn't say, "I'm KICKING CANCER'S BUTT!" ........

And a GIANT THANK YOU to her "Unknown Gift-Giver!"  Merry Christmas "Unknown."  And thank you for giving Marla (and her whole entire family & friends & community) healing days ahead!

GO GET 'EM, FIGHTER!

Holiday Shopping Tip #10

Where are tip #'s 1-9--you ask??  Why is tip #10 first??  10 is my favorite number.  I make it first.  Also, I have no idea what tips 1-9 are yet........so 10 has to be first.  Der.

Naturally, it's that joyous holiday time of year when we are all out in the pleasant hustle and bustle of Christmas gift shopping............

Pleasant?  Not so much.

Hustle and bustle?  Every minute!

Of course this is the point where I tell all you blog-stalkers that, when you're out and about doing your shopping, please remember how you'd want to be treated and treat others accordingly.  Do I really need to tell you that?  No.  I don't think so.  But just on the off chance you forget, here's a reminder--BE NICE!  For you, too, may need for the store security's first impression of you to be that of a "nice lady."

Holiday Shopping Tip #10:
Because time is always of the essence--especially when you're trying to cram gift-shopping for your kids in so you'll have time to drop the present by the house and hide it before you pick them up after school--I suggest making your trip through the check out faster and easier by locating your check card BEFORE you have to unload the contents of your oversized couture handbag onto the check out counter and expose your dirty little secret addiction to the yummy, white, no-calorie powder............

Apparently, Christmas is NOT the time of year to "mess with security."  I know this because they told me so.  

But, it's all good....I "look like a nice lady who should probably clean out her purse."  

Hope you look as "nice" as I this Christmas season!!

Oh.  And----IT'S JUST SPLENDA, PEOPLE!!  What's in YOUR wallet??????

The jobs must be done. Also? Hum a little tune.

We have a chore chart.

Here at Casa del Sassy, we do not have a full time staff, so as any good parent would do, we make the teenagers work.  Hence.... chore chart.

Every afternoon, I remind the teenagers about the chore chart.

"Who has dishes?"

Giant teenager comes down the hall..... "AWWW, I hate dishes."  (Seven and one half minutes of teenage whining ensues.  Mucho complaining about the chore chart.  An argument regarding fairness.  Etc...)

Then, the most delightful thing.  Giant teenager starts doing the dishes!  Only seconds into his chore, I hear something unexpected.  Giant teenage boy is humming, 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas!'


I love, LOVE to experiment with the human condition, so as soon as dishes are done (really people, about 4 dirty cups and 4 spoons)  I assign giant teenager another task.

"Will you vacuum the hallway for me?  Please?"

(Giant moans of teenage woe ensue.  A few suggestions on who else should run the vacuum.  A request for payment.  Etc....)

Then, it happens again!

Giant teenage boy is vacuuming the hallway and humming, 'Deck the Halls!'


The vacuum cleaner belt broke and instantly the holiday humming spell was broken.  He announced an urgency regarding a pirate game and that was the last of the humming.

For now.

Merry Saturday!

Off the Top of My Head. For No Good Reason.

This morning I'm busy finishing up about 900 thousand loads of laundry. I'm not exaggerating. I suddenly thought of some stuff.

 1. Dear underwire in every bra I own,

If you're not strong enough to survive a little sloshing around in a washing machine, then you certainly are not strong enough to survive real life. I'm a mother of teenagers. I go places and do things much more difficult than one brief swishy ride in a washing machine. Toughen up!  And, also? Be cheaper. I need to replace you more often.

2. Something funny happened during the mammogram.

I'm standing, completely topless, boob smashed into a machine, holding my breath and grasping the handle for dear life..... at that exact moment, the mammogram technician complemented my hair.

3.  Happy Monday after Thanksgiving!

Oh, Yeah, Santa! We went there!

Happy Thanksgiving, 2011

From all of us here at TftC!

I'm Melting!

Sometimes, stories are brief...even when they are scientifically related.

It's Science Fair time at this house.  Luckily, this year, Little already knows exactly what experiment she wants to conduct--which really isn't all that new of an occurrence...the girl usually ALWAYS knows what she wants from her life!

What I love about science fair time is that it's not my job to take the lead parenting/monitoring role.  That's not what my academic background supports.....I don't wipe noses, I don't clean up puke, and I don't do science fair.  I only make science fair "pretty."  But, I've been married to a medical professional for almost 18 years, therefore, I am a "doctor-by-proxy"...and, I can pimp out a science fair board better than a Kardashian can trash up a wedding ceremony!

With list in hand, I send my dynamic-scientific-duo to the local Walmarts (it's the only real place one should shop for authentic scientifically related stuff).

Within the hour, the two return with all necessary supplies and a haste to begin:

Little:  Where's Big? (my Big & Little can never enter a room without asking about the other)

Mr. Analytical:  Focus.  Don't worry about him.  Now, what is your question? (you know, because every good science experiment begins with "the question.")


Little (very slowly and clearly so as to be heard by the deaf dad):  Where.  Is.  Big?

Mr. Analytical:  you're fired.


......And so the experiment begins.........

My Poor Husband

The Bossman is such a good husband. For several years now, every time we would take the family on a trip in the pick up truck, I would be very scared. And weird. And mean. And, basically a giant pain the rear end for the entire trip. Especially the driving part.

Recently, I saw my little old doctor, and requested some medicine that would help me with this problem. PrissE was instrumental in helping me with this. I believe her exact words were, "Gurl, just go get a pill."

With that, a prescription was written, and then picked up at the friendly Walmarts pharmacy. I just needed a car trip to try the stuff out.

Yesterday, we went on a car trip.

The Bossman and I needed to take Jag on over to the Scottish Rite Hospital in Dallas for his annual check up. This trip would combine all my 'triggers': a long car ride, a doctor, a teenager, heavy traffic and brake lights.

We loaded up the truck and left at 3:55am. At 4:00am, only one small block from our house, the Bossman decided he forgot the GPS device and we needed to turn around. I snapped at him one time, then fished the pill from my bag and took one. Let's just see how this works.

In about 20 minutes or so, I felt relaxed. I no longer wanted to jump out the truck window and walk home to never leave my house again. It only took 20 minutes! A little further down the road, I became very sleepy. It was still dark, after all, so I reclined the seat and slept for a long time. I woke up and still felt great! I talked to the Bossman, and began a closer monitoring of the truck radio, but all was still really good.

As we got closer to Dallas, we would have an occasional conversation about the meaning of brake lights or the positioning of street signs. I think Jag and I had one brief conversation about pointing out things on the side of the road for dad to look at while he was driving in heavy traffic, but all was still going really well. I was being..... pleasant.

Instead of loud terrifying gasps from the passenger seat while I strangled the door handle and constantly checked to see if my seat belt was safely fastened, I would occasionally say, "Oh! That startled me!" And, the Bossman would laugh.

I felt so relaxed, that I found it easy to channel Dr. Phil. I would say to Jag and the Bossman something like, "You know I have this travel anxiety. Why would you (fill in the blank here of some irritating Y chromosome activity)?" Then, I would tell them that Dr. Phil would say they were working against my success. Jag thought those moments of counseling were funny at first. After a while, he put a movie on the DVR, and settled into the head phones.

I was busy trying to trick the GPS device when I asked the Bossman what he thought about the new medicine I took. He paused for a moment, then said, "Well, that pill didn't shut you up, but you're being nice and funny. I think it's worth it."

Jag decided to chime in with, "Yeah Mom, you should take them more often."

We're home.