The Ultimate Card...

the Cancer Card.

At first he refused to acknowledge it.

Then he used it timidly...very timidly and only because he had to at least acknowledge it to certain people...like you have to take 30 days off work - you might have to say just a little something about your absence kinda timidly.

Then he got more comfortable and let it flippantly fly out to strangers...I personally think this was his trial period. Testing the words out on his ears.

He got too comfortable.

He'd agonized about telling a friend at work that didn't "have to know", but who had been inquiring about his health for some time now. He was afraid she may hear through the office gossip vine once he started with surgeries...so he told her.

No let me re-phrase that.

He closed her door (first mistake. door closing to females = drama), said something along the lines of "since you keep asking me...you are a lovely person...didn't want you to hear else where...(your general female drama buttons)...(pregnant pause) I Have Kidney Cancer."

He is so male.

He was in complete and utter shock when she burst in to tears. He seemed to skip over these small facts: She is a new momma (hormones). She loves the Big Shooter dearly, counts him among her I can count on him kind of friends (they share the same sense of humor...and best of all, she's vvvery liberal which of course adds oh so much fodder to the fire!). Her own momma is battling cancer at the present time and he CLOSED HER DOOR to tell her.

He got scared off from the Card for a little while.

I'd say, "Are you going to tell Joe? He's been there for you through thick and thin..." He'd say, "I don't think so...I told Liberal Drama Queen and...she cried...I mean, she...cried." Always said with complete disbelief and amazement. Males. Push drama button. Push drama button. And push another DRAMA button and we might show a little drama. The truth is: If she knew how much it effected him...she'd get over the tears in a heartbeat and gloat! That's the kind of friendship they have. I love her. She's a straight shooter, who just happens to raz the Big Shooter to NO END. Yep. She's my kinda girl.

Slowly he gained confidence in the Card again.

Once he did. He pretty much now just tells who ever he feels might get their feelings hurt if they find out later they stood in Target and had a 20 minute conversation about Easter baskets and the Resurrection with him and he didn't "share the Big News". (That'd be the "CNN syndrome" I spoke of here.)

But now? Now he uses it liberally. In fact, too liberally. I knew this would happen sooner or later with our personalities and ultra sensibilities (ya gotta know that was said with a smirk).

Insert Spouse Perk here:
Apparently, he can share the Card with me. Like when I forgot to send in my tutoring gig attendance sheets (forlikethreeweekscauseIreallyhadawholebunchonmymind,reallyIdid) and I used the Card on the lady in the district office...if it makes anyone feel better...I really felt guilty. Until it worked. Then I was just relieved.

Anyway, this is why I think he's gotten too comfortable with the Card.

We are driving down the road last Saturday and I have lightening flash from the Heavens and ZAP my brain..."OH, MY WORD!!! TOMORROW IS EASTER?!" "Yeees. What's your deal?" "AAaarr, I don't have one thing...ONE THING for the Snatchers!" "It's okay." (I don't think I heard this because I was wailing and flailing my arms.) "AAAAwwww...what am I going to doooo?" "I'll just go to Target and pick up something quick. Stop freakin'." (Again, I didn't hear him over the gnashing of my teeth.) "I'm a horrrrible mother. Horrible... Just horr - i -ble." No comment from the seat beside me... I heard that comment. Yes, sir. Silence is deafening...and telling. With raised eyebrows I asked, "...just what kind of mother am I?" With a straight face I would have been proud of if the comment weren't directed at me he said matter-of-factly, "Horrible. The worst. In fact, I'd give your Momma Card back... if I were you."

What??????

I looked over at him calmly driving...like he hadn't just Woke the Devil.

Staring straight ahead...like he wasn't afraid.

With a demure look on his face...like he shouldn't be afraid.

Very afraid.

Thought - "What in the %$#@, I apparently have miserably failed teaching him a lesson (I mean imparting through respectful love, obedience and honor) to Never... Never Question the Wife/Mother Skills basic etiquette to my husband. Well now. He's about to get a real big lesson..."

when he looked over, shrugged his shoulder and said with all sincerity...and a smirk

"I have kidney cancer..."

Dang Cancer Card. I hate it when I have to fold.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I am not at all surprised at how well you are handling the Card you've been dealt. You are amazing. I envy your character.

Big Shooter, I Can't Help Falling In Love With You

** Before clicking play, you may wish to turn the background music off by scrolling to the bottom of this page and clicking on the stop/pause button on the music player. It is on the far left side and looks like this ll.
Love Note to my Big Shooter: It makes my heart pitter pat when I hear you humming our song...you Sweet Thang!

Just Ponderin'...

this bumper sticker Big Shooter and I saw today:

Nuttier than a Squirrel Turd

Hey, at least they are grammatically correct. Ain't they?
Unfortunately, it was not good timing for Big Shooter...crazy glued belly suture shaking and all... I've bit my tongue all day since. I'm dying for just the right moment to repeat it to him...cause he is, ya know...nuttier then...than...whatever...
Sorry Granny. I'll quit typing "turd". It's just that Nuttier than Squirrel Sign just doesn't have quite the same kick to it...
Post edit: Thanks Dad for the helpful tip...however, Nuttier than Squirrel Scat still doesn't have the kick I think they are looking for. The only other word I think would make a great alternative is not Kid Appropriate...funny as all get out...just not appropriate.
Those pesky kids...sigh.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I love you because you are (say it with my people) Nuttier than a Squirrel Turd!

Two things learned yesterday...

1. That not just Duck Tape and baling twine are handy guy tools to have around.

You can add this to the list.

Apparently, it is great in a pinch. Say a, no thread to sew up my husband's abdomen, kinda pinch! I want to know who thought, "You know instead of sewing them up tight...I think I'll just dribble the earth's most chemically induced sticky substance on this open wound and see if it will hold it together?" Who? I really do want to know... Did you read the picture? Freshness?! What does non-fresh super glue look like? Smell like? And a Whip Tip? Please don't even get me started!

2. The Crumb Snatchers and I don't have any significance to the Big Shooter compared to this...

the magnetic, irresistible, mind-consuming - Crack (oops, I meant Black) Berry.

Seconds after waking up from surgery today BS rasply whispered, "Where's...my phone...?" Not a shred of relief to waking up and finding his loving wife gazing at him, welcoming him back to planet earth. The same earth, may I just say, he recently thought he may be exiting in his understandably freaked out freak moments...I guess I could look at it as the memory space is only half full not empty? Or at least now I know where we unequivocally stand...

after, the Crack Berry.

That's okay Big Boy...I'm your Nurse for the next several days...

you know what they say about a woman scorned?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: You are so impressive. You didn't cry, wince, panic, slug anyone, call any one's momma a bad name, or pass out when they missed your vein...again...and again. At least, that's how it seemed to me...from my view on the floor.

Knock Knock

Who's there?
Apparently, the umpires checking to make sure all little boys' jewels are adequately protected before allowing the games to commence...

Cup check...

Went Cup shopping...

not the kind you drink out of. Well, I wouldn't anyway.

Here's how it went down.
#1: Mom, I need a cup.
Momma: Get one out of the cupboard.
#1: Not that kind of cup.
Momma: (confused) What other kind of cup is there?
#1: Pantomiming a bat or ball, who knows which, flying towards his crotch area. Hitting the said area. In s l o w m o t i o n he grabs said area with dire expression (how does he know the face when this male phenomenon hasn't even happened to him yet), collapses to the floor.
Momma: Oh. You mean a cup...cup.
#1: From a heap on the floor (and still clutching the said area like someone is going to reach down and steal 'em.) Yep. That kind. Can you go buy me one?
Momma: Uh, that'd be a nope. Sorry pal, that's a dad deal.

Transition: Boy child calls his father and has the same exact conversation with his father...including the dramatic fall and clutching business. Apparently, his father agreed to go shopping with him after practice tonight.
Side Note: Boy child only has one, ahem... jewel to protect. Another story. Another time.

Momma is fixing dinner and phone rings.
Momma: Hi Darlin'.
Big Shooter: Hi. We're on our way to Academy and I was wondering...do they make cups for one ballers?
Momma: Sucks all air out of kitchen. Drops phone. Then laughs hysterically at the new nick name just bestowed on #1! "ummm...let's see let me pull that kind of information out of my How the *&^%&* would I know file!"
Big Shooter: chuckle, chuckle. Just kiddin' ya. We'll be fine.

15 minutes later...
Momma: Hi Darlin'.
Big Shooter: Hi. What size do I get?
Momma: ??????? (Is he serious?)
Big Shooter: There is a 10-12 or 14-16...
Momma: (again...) ??????
Big Shooter: I'll just go with the bigger one.
Momma: Thinking - Well, of course he would go with the bigger size...he's male speaking of the nether region. Said - What ever you two think will fit/work best Sweetie I am sure will be fine.
Hang up, go back to dinner fixin'.

5 seconds later...
Big Shooter: Yes?
Momma: What if it's too big and doesn't protect the one little guy?
Big Shooter: ????? (Is she serious? Little guy...?)
Momma: Or what if it's loose and rubs him raw?
Big Shooter: silence...he must have been contemplating raw and nether regions together...
Momma: Or what if it's too tight and something happens to little guy? ...and he can't have babies...?
Big Shooter: ?????
Momma: I'm sure you'll get what's best...right?
Big Shooter: ...uh, huh. (Honestly, he didn't sound too convincing.)

15 minutes later...
Momma: Hi Darlin'.
Big Shooter: We got a cup, a new bat bag...and we are on our way home.
Momma: (Sigh) Oh, good. See you in a bit.
Hang up and ponder where life has now lead...

11 years ago - didn't want Crumb Snatchers.
9 years ago - didn't blanch or see anything wrong with scooping small crumb snatcher up in mid-stride, lifting his bum up parallel to my nose to see if the smell was him or the mall food we just passed...
1 hour ago - worrying about my son's little guy staying safe to make future Crumb Snatchers...

Where does time go? What will be next?!
Don't answer that!
...that is what is referred to as rhetorical question...

Love Note to My Big Shooter: You fulfilled another Dad Duty today. I love the kind of dad you are.

What I've learned from cancer ain't just Diddly Squat

May I first remind you of the name of my blog...Straight Shooter...


• People feel the need to tell someone, anyone the news they've been entrusted with.
• We end up comforting others b/c of Big Shooter's cancer.


• Hearing the news, being able to share the news...it's kinda like live CNN news broadcasting for some.


• Big Shooter's exterior is like Teflon. And wet, softened plaster...


• Every breath you take, every word you utter, every deed you do has a lasting effect on someone.


• The Love of My Life is never far from my thoughts...even when I think he is.


• We are never far from his thoughts.


• We have some of the most loving, caring, generous friends on the planet.
  
• God is so merciful.
  
• Big Shooter's purpose is yet unfulfilled...per #1's observation.
  
• #2 has the faith of a three adults.


• Doctor's can't help but get personally involved when it comes to a father with young children.


• There is a test for everything.


• There are no Time Outs. Life keeps coming at us no matter what.


• It cannot take our sense of humors away.
  
• "It's surely better to die then endure another colonoscopy" - Big Shooter
  
• "If you have to have a colonoscopy and endoscopy on the same day, make sure they wash the instruments between procedures..." - Big Shooter
  
• "When scheduling a prostate exam....size does matter." - Big Shooter


• If it's possible, I have become even more a Mother Hen.


• There are good days and bad days. I mean, Real Bad Days.


• I didn't think I could love my Big Shooter any more. I was so wrong. So very, very wrong.


• I never knew there were so many cancer jokes.


• I would not have thought them so funny Before.


• It is true kids are tough, resilient little whipper-snappers...but, wow. I have watched them mature right before my eyes.


• I hate that last fact.


• Cancer just flat sucks.


• There are many ways to kid about his kidneys... kidney pie, kidney beans, kid knees, and just kiddin'. To name a few...

Love Note to my Big Shooter: When you were away at college and I'd cry (which was a lot) your mom would hold my hand and say, "God sees those tears...He is going to multiple them into happiness with him one day." I don't think she had any idea how right she was...you are what makes me happiest.

Blogthings - Do You Know Your State Capitols?

Click here to find out: Blogthings - Do You Know Your State Capitols?

A Dear Sashi Letter

A sweet Momma friend sent me one of those cute chain letters recently. I couldn't help thinking how appropriate the advice is right now in our lives. When faced with the seriousness of life-threatening illness...wow, your perspective sure does under go some much needed radical changes... I changed a few of the words to fit our family better. I am absolutely sure I could write this letter to my other spouse Saucy now. So here goes...

Dear Saucy Sashi,

I'm reading more and worrying about dusting less.
I'm sitting in the yard and admiring the view without fussing at the kids stepping on flowers.
I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time planning to spend time with them.
Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experiences to savor, not to endure. So, I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event such as losing a tooth, getting the sink unstopped, or passing the timed test the first time .
I wear my church clothes to the market. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries.
I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties, but wearing it for clerks in Lowes and the librarians for our weekly pilgrimages.
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary.
If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now, not later.

I'm not sure what others would've done had they known they wouldn't be here for the tomorrow that we all take for granted. I think they would have called family members and a few close friends. They might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think they would have gone out for sushi and pie or for whatever their favorite food was.

As for me, it'd be the little things left undone that would make me regretful if I knew my hours were limited. Regretful because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write one of these days.
Sorry that I didn't tell my husband and parents often enough how much I truly love them.
I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.

And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself it's a special God-given opportunity.

Every day, every minute, every breath truly is a gift from God.

Love Note to My Big Shooter: I love all your little sayings you hear then quote to me. One of my favorites is, "It's not the amount of breaths you take in life, but the moments that take your breath away." You, B, take my breath away...

It's called Renal Cell Carcinoma...

and my beloved Big Shooter has it.

In other words, he has kidney cancer.

For those of you who we have not personally been able to get to before this - so sorry you're learning of it here. (Drs. Scheel, if you're reading this...he has about a bajillion questions just for you.)

Let me answer all the questions I hear over and over:

How long have you known? Officially March 11th. Unofficially March 6th.

How did we find out? Brian has been suffering from severe abdominal pains under his right ribs since mid December. He went to the doctor for this in mid January. They found gallstones and knew there was something else from his blood results. So .... the roller coaster ride began.

What is kidney cancer? Can it be cured? If you have to have cancer - honestly, pick your kidney. The only cure is to have it removed. If it's caught early enough, they cut it out and that's the end. No chemo or radiation...unless you're past the first couple stages...

What stage is Big Shooter's at? Honestly, we wish we could just easily say, "Why it's stage 1. Nothing to worry about." Well we can, but, we can't. The size is categorized as a 1. The scans and tests show no spreading in the nodes or metastasizing...but, they won't say it is Stage 1 b/c the tumor is growing right in the center, the cortex where all the blood from the body gets filtered...there is a possibility it has spread through microfilaments in the blood. We won't know until his kidney is removed and sent to pathology. Nothing like a little stress hangin' over your head huh?

When will that be? Remember I said what lead us down this road to begin with is his gallbladder? Well, he has to have that removed and recoop from that surgery before he can be cut in half to remove the other problem. His gallbladder will come out on Thursday, March 27th. His kidney should then be April 21st (ish).

How is everyone? For Big Shooter and me it's a wild roller coaster ride. We find if we buckle in tight together it's a little less scary. We have been riding it now for a while so like any ride we are getting used to it. The Crumb Snatchers are fine with it. Big Shooter did an awesome job telling them. (another post another time) and they are cool with it. In fact, #1 told me yesterday, "It doesn't worry me cause it's Stage 1 and he has a 95% chance of living through that..." To which #2 replied, "Huh uh! It's like 95 and a half...and a half more than that % he'll live!" Reeaallly? Where do they come up with this?

And How are you coping? Like we do with everything in our lives...with lots of inappropriate, morbid humor. For instance, tonight for Date Night we saw The Bucket List. It's about two men dying of cancer and the list they want to complete before they die...

BTW - it was a great show! We both snorted, cried, guffawed and snorted out loud with laughter again!

Do we freak? Absolutely. I cannot imagine taking a breath without my Big Shooter. He is my heart, my lifeline... Then we pull it together and start in with the morose behavior again. You'll see/read it on here sooner or later I am sure of it. You'll just have to bear with us...it's how we cope.

What do we say to him? Honestly, nothing. He truly does not really want to talk about it. I don't mean that to sound rude. He just chooses when and who randomly. When he feels the need to talk, he does. He has said to me several times, "Maybe, I should charge $50/hour for people to fulfill their need to talk to me or give me advice about my cancer." Other times he's said, "I talked to so and so today and it was good..." Got me people! I just live on the wild side and say what comes to mind when it does...that's a stretch you weren't prepared for I'm sure! Sometimes he's cool and others he is not...which is understandable.

Speaking of coping , how do you cope with stressful situations? or news? or life? Please leave your ways/advice for me in a comment.


Love Note to My Big Shooter: When you do the deep-breath, snortin', can't breathe belly laugh, it is music to my ears.

P.S. He says in order for me to post this with his permission I have to say, "If you'd like to show you care - Send Money. It's his dying wish to drive a Ferrari."

See what I mean about morbid, inappropriate behavior and humor...?

Hands

A basketball in my hands is worth about $19.

A basketball in Michael Jordan's hands is worth about $33 million.

A baseball in my hands is worth about $6.

A baseball in Roger Clemens' hands is worth $475 million.

A tennis racket is useless in my hands.

A tennis racket in Andre Agassi's hands is worth millions.

A rod in my hands will keep away an angry dog.

A rod in Moses' hands will part the mighty sea.

A slingshot in my! hands i s a kid's toy.

A slingshot in David's hand is a mighty weapon.

Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in my hands is a couple of fish sandwiches.

Two fish and 5 loaves of bread in Jesus' hands will feed thousands.

Nails in my hands might produce a birdhouse.

Nails in Jesus Christ's hands will Produce salvation for the entire world.
It depends whose hands it's in.

Put your concerns,

your worries,

your fears, your hopes,

your dreams,

your families

and your relationships in God's hands because...

It depends whose hands it's in.

Is it Happy Easter or ...

Love Note to My Big Shooter: I experience Mercy and Grace every day with you, through you, because of you.

"What happened on Good Friday?"

Since I am a momma pretty much every thought I have goes through my Momma Filter.

So after I explain it's the day Jesus is crucified I immediately think of his momma. What her thoughts about her son were that day? She bore Him knowing he was someone special. If he were to die how would he impact the world? The disbelief he would be taken from this earth must have been overwhelming. She must have gone from extreme pride of his ministry to utter disbelief and horror at witnessing what was happening to her first born son. After the sentence was handed down and she knew what was to come I wonder how she held herself together for the inevitable ending? I wonder what kind of example she was?

Until we reach Heaven we can only wonder...

Do you ever wonder how you would handle it?

I remember holding my helpless, newborn son and thinking of her...I know there is no way I could have endured what she did.

For the past two weeks I have been reading a blog by a momma in New Zealand whose son was born with a neural tube defect. His skull did not develop correctly so his brain grew outside his skull in a fluid filled sac called a cele. His parents were given the option of terminating his life b/c he was not expected to live to term...and absolutely not the birth. His mother knew he was a gift and chose to give her son every chance at life she could. Three hours after his birth he was allowed to go home with the understanding he would expire within hours... He lived 67 days and 7 hours longer than anyone thought possible...

During that time his mother began to blog about her daily activities with him. She put a counter on her sight just two weeks ago and it already registers over 92,000 visitors!

I have thought of her so often the last couple days. She faced much the same circumstances Mary did. To her, he was the most special boy in the whole world. The pride, anticipation and dreams she had for her boy were shattered with horror-filled dread of the impending outcome. The difference between her and Mary's story is: I can tell you what kind of example Susie has been. Unfaltering in her faith. Devoted to the end. Finding the blessings in the midst of terror-filled moments. A perfect example of Christ's love and sacrifice.

And Joshua. He was truly a Gift to the world. He touched more lives in his short time than 99.9% of the human race will ever dream of. He had a divine purpose.

The link below leads to the page where Joshua's momma put together a video for his Celebration Service.

Warning: Get Kleenex before clicking play...


Joshua's Lifesong


Love Note to My Big Shooter: Do you have any concept of how much you give? And never expect?

Our Niece - The Gunners Mate

That is very cool to be able to say...until I think about what she's doing.
She is, as I type this, in training to be moved to Haditha, Iraq. This is her second tour. The first one sucked. This second one is going to suck even more. I've looked Haditha up...not a good place.

It's the real deal. It a place that sees death, bombings, roadside attacks...regularly. She told her mom the last group that was sent out to this post got forgotten for 3 weeks with no food or water...nice.

She has to go through a few weeks training before she goes. Language, hidden weapons, bombs...courses along these lines. From what I understand, her job will be to search women and children entering Iraq at it's border.
Cowards use women and children to hide behind.
To blow up.
To gain more virgins.
To be gutless.

This is Jess, our niece, our hero.

She's over there for me...for my kids...for you.
Please ask God to surround her with angels everyday.

Love Note to Big Shooter: I decided to put it in both places b/c I can archive it here (that List Girl thing and all) and I can't over on the sidebar...My Granny Grunt & Grandpa Bozo said you were the one. I trusted their wisdom. I am so glad I did...

What do you think?

These new digs are courtesy of a good ole' gal over at Splat Designs! May I take a moment to recommend her if you are considering a new look for your own blog. She is completely and utterly creative, extremely easy to work with, figures out exactly what fits your style, and very (I won't say cheap Lindsay) very reasonable! Like, "you need to get over there and take advantage of her before she comes to her senses and charges you enough to buy herself a coke after she's slaved over every silly detail of your new blog for days" kinda reasonable. I am still getting used to being in my new digs so bear with me as I feel myself around.
Since I missed Wordless Wednesday I am going to do Thoughtless Thursday pics today instead. The problem is - they won't be thoughtless...

oh, you'll have thoughts alright...because

yeeess,

it REALLY is

a toilet seat...

Love Note to Big Shooter has moved to the left side of the site...

Not a Special Note to my readers...but, a note to my Special Readers

I am having a remarkably nostalgic evening I guess. I have a heart full of love for those of you very few faithful readers of my silly thoughts and appreciators of my whacked out way of seeing the world.

Why?

• Because your published comments crack me up, make me sigh, cause me to see things differently and just generally make my insides happy.


• Because your unpublished (sent via email) comments also make me sigh, snort with laughter, raise an eyebrow (which is hard to do), and make my insides happy.


• Because you care about, agree with, argue with, make fun of, giggle at and love the same things I do...

One of the most commented on posts was the 365 Reasons I Love Big Shooter. I received lots of personal email on that one as well as published comments. I was thinking on this fact a few minutes ago, that's probably why I am feeling the love for you all tonight. You all shocked me with your comments and thoughts about it being the sweetest, most thoughtful, "wow, isn't he a lucky man", gag, gag lovey-dovey idea. When in all honesty, I am just a List Girl and thought it would be nice to list the reasons I can't take a breath without him. Sorry to burst your bubbles. I wasn't trying to be romantic...ish. Just wanted him to know the facts...ma'am. But thanks for thinkin' I had that kinda bone in my body none the less!

So here's another fact: I love Big Shooter because he really digs old 80's slap-stick comedy movies and the really dorky ones like Uncle Buck, Spaceballs and Caddy Shack. He loves to watch them again and again. It's just weird and I love it. It could be worse. Instead of John Candy, it could always be Candy Does Hollywood or Candy Land...

Snippets of Crumb Conversations...

Overheard today...

??????
#2: "I am worried Jack is climbing under the house when we leave him outside..."
#1: "Me too. He could ruin the electricity if he gets under there."
#2: "No. But, he could get rabies..."
#1: "Really?"
#2: "Yeah. But, don't worry he hasn't got them...yet."
#1: "Shooo.(with extreme sigh) That's good."

??????
"Come here you little titwit!" Crumb 2 talking to her big brother...

??????
#1 to #2 right after prayers, "What do you think the little tiny babies who die and go to heaven are doing right now?"
Her answer, "...dancing. And playing with dogs...but, mostly dancing."

??????
My own questions for God: How did I ever deserve these two precious wee ones? Can you please just keep them this age forever...please? How will I bear to let them grow up? How come you designed parenthood to have ecstasy and despair in the same breath?

Love Note to Big Shooter: I love you because after spending over half our lives together, we're still discovering new things about each other. That's cool B.

Happy Birthday to YOU...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR GEEEE-ZZZZER,
HAPPY

BIRTHDAY

TO

YOU...

AND MANY MORE...ON CHANNEL 4...AND SCOOBY DOO ON CHANNEL 2.... (the "many more" is from me, the channel business is from your offspring...)

Happy Birthday Big Shooter. I love you.

Okay Here's the Deal...

I am desperately dead-dog tired and want to go to bed knowing I could make one of the two of you faithful readers laugh out loud today....so I am cheating and sending you here X and... here X. When you come back and wipe the tears of laughter and streaks of snot from your face from snortin' so hard you can read my love note below...

Love Note to Big Shooter: I knew you were the one on date #4. You asked what I'd like to do on a Friday night. When I said, "Go to my Granny Grunt and Grampa Bozo's." Without hesitation you said, "Sounds like fun." Oh, yeah baby. You didn't mind hangin' with the geezers...you were in like flinn...

Pirate & Ballet Dancer or (alternate title) Roles Reversed or (another alternate title) Daddy Freaked Out

My tomboy pirate and sensitive Nutcracker Prince.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I love, Love, LOVE, L-O-V-E the fact you are a Rock Star...in your own mind.

East to West by Casting Crowns

For you Big Shooter...

Politically Uncorrect Confession

Incorrect?...uncorrect? ...doesn't matter. What ever it is rubs the left wrong.

I came to the conclusion I must be somewhat homophobic. Here is the evidence that convinced me of the fact:

Every single time I refer to my JBF partner Saucy Sashi I always say, "My business partner....blah, blah, blah." Now, when I am making PBJs, throwing in a load of laundry, grading a phonics assignment and talking on the phone all at the same time I might slip and sometimes refer to her as just "my partner". As soon as it leaves my mouth I follow up with some comment about her and her husband or mine or her house being in another town...anything to make it clear she is not my partner-partner, but just my partner...

Confused?

My point exactly. Who wouldn't be?

Offended? Sue me.

I've had a bad day. I am grouchy. Can you tell? Sorry.

Or sue me.

Love Note to Big Shooter: #3 I love you because you told me I was beautiful today even though I had not one stitch of make-up on (I am not a vain person about make-up mind you. Except lipstick. I never leave the house w/o the lipstick on!), had on my ole momma uniform (denim and... denim) and had barely run a comb through my hair. I am trying to ignore the fact that as soon as "You're beautiful" left your lips, our son quipped, "You are?" and about fell out of his chair with laughter. Nine year old boy humor - you gotta just shake your head...or you may commit offspringicide and end up in jail where you are locked up by yourself...in the silence...with nothing to do...and have 3 squares cooked by someone else...and that would be bad. Right.....?

365 Reasons I love Big Shooter

Every year I record those funny little sayings the Crumb Snatchers utter from their sweet lips. Give detailed accounts of silly ordinary happenings in our house and lives. And generally bore the *#!j% out of friends and family come January (or February...ish) when I send out the annual New Year's Letter.

Recently, I realized how much I focus on the Snatchers.

I decided they pretty much get top billing in our lives all the time...

Well, today I am introducing a new addition to my daily posts.


It's Love Notes to My Big Shooter.
(Now before you go all weepy and soft in the knees let me explain. I had to do something to get him to read this blog regularly...making him a daily target...I mean subject will definitely get him reading...)

For one year I am going to list, at the end of each post, at least one reason I love my Big Shooter more than life itself.

You'll get to see first hand many things...

*How super thoughtful he is. *How macabre his humor is. *How much he loves his fam. *The abuse he endures from his loving wife & adoring children on a daily basis. *Why God put us together. *And many other earth-shattering observations.

I've been thinking of this for two days so I am going to list two things to start this daily gig.

Love Notes to Big Shooter:
1) 20+ years ago we shared our first Dairy Queen ice cream treat in Southern Idaho and he discovered I realllly like maraschino cherries. Not one time, not. one. time, since then has he failed to offer me "the cherry on top" before he takes a bite. Silly? No. I think Thoughtful and Unselfish.


2) Recently, on a day when he received what had to be the hardest news a man has to face he thought of only putting a smile on his children's faces when their eyes met his... by smashing his bahootchie against the car window....in the car next to us...at a red light...at a very busy intersection...in broad daylight...made the three of us SNORT and squeal with laughter. They will remember their father's derriere smashed flat for the rest of their lives...and one day I'll be able to share with them what day it was...

My favorite time...

"What's your favorite time of the week?", I asked Big Shooter. "What do you mean?" he asked back. "Well mine, with no close runner-up, is right now. Between 5-7 on a Friday night. Done with the work week...the whole weekend ahead...", I explained looking at him with expectation. He smiled and said, "Sweetie that's not called 'favorite time of the week'. It's called 'Happy Hour'."
So much for expectations...


What's your fave time of the week? Do tell me why. Purty Pleeze...

Pee Pants gets Top Billing

Okay, this is just plain ole weird to me.

I am able to look at keywords that people use to find blogs...my most often looked at post is Confessions of Miss Pee-Pee Pants! 70% of the people who are actually searching before they stumble on to my blog are looking for something to do with the golden stream, the yellow river, the chance to find true pee confessions... That is just weird. W-E-I-R-D.

What makes me feel a teeny tiny bit better about the whole thing is 95% of the freaks searching for urine related secrets are foreign. Only a very few are American. The majority are polish, french (hmmm...surprise, surprise...sorry, that's not nice...still.), dutch, Italian, German, Swedish, and Hungarian to name a few. What are they doin' over there in Europe? FYI: That was a rhetorical question. I do NOT want to know...

Just friends...

See any Similarities...?

If there are any in doubt, take a closer look...

Calvin of Calvin & Hobbes

His Mouth

I have loved this boy's mouth since the second I laid eyes on him. He and his little sister have these perfect pink rosebud lips. The similarities end there though. She uses her whole face to tell me what she's thinkin'. All I have to do with him is look at his mouth.

This means "Mischief is eminent".

"My patience are not running overeth..."

"Heee, Heeee. I can hear her squeal already...more evil heee, heees..."!

Happy concentration.

More evil heee, heees.

Yes! ...I knew she'd squeal and call for her Momma!

Ya'll know Calvin and Hobbes? Well, I live with Calvin. I take one look at that face and know he's up to no good.

Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday

Precious Girl


Happy Birthday,


to


YOU.

I love you more and more with each passing day.